THE LIBRARY 
 
 OF 
 
 THE UNIVERSITY 
 
 OF CALIFORNIA 
 RIVERSIDE
 
 CAMBRIDGE ENGLISH CLASSICS 
 
 The Writings 
 
 of 
 Matthew Prior 
 
 # #
 
 MATTHEW PRIOR 
 
 Born 1664 
 Died 1 72 1
 
 MATTHEW PRIOR 
 
 n 
 
 DIALOGUES OF THE DEAD 
 
 AND OTHER WORKS IN 
 
 PROSE AND VERSE 
 
 THE TEXT EDITED BY 
 
 A. R. WALLER, M.A. 
 
 ,. yOXKrtly 
 
 Cambridge : 
 at the University Press 
 
 1907
 
 W 3/ 
 
 j> 
 
 CAMBRIDGE UNIVERSITY PRESS WAREHOUSE, 
 
 C. F. CLAY, Manager. 
 
 ILontlon: FETTER LANE, E.C. 
 OlaaanSu: 50, WELLINGTON STREET. 
 
 ILfipjig: F. A. BROCKHAUS. 
 
 flfbi Sorb: G. P. PUTNAM'S SONS. 
 
 Jaombaj) anil Calcutta: MACMILLAN AND CO., Ltd. 
 
 [All Eights reserved]
 
 o 
 
 -3- 
 
 GO 
 
 NOTE. 
 
 THE present volume contains the whole of Prior's 
 English literary works in prose and verse, other 
 than those published in the folio of 171 8, which were 
 contained in the volume edited by me two years ago. 
 It thus completes the publication of the text of Prior's 
 writings as designed, and it is pleasant to remember 
 that this publication has been undertaken by the Press 
 for which Prior negotiated a purchase of Greek type 
 when in Paris in 1700 1 . 
 
 More than half the pages now published contain 
 additions to the known writings of Prior, and, in respect 
 of this, the thanks of all who are interested in the 
 literature of the 17th and 1 8th centuries are due to 
 the Marquess of Bath, who kindly permitted me to 
 make an examination of the whole of Prior's literary 
 papers preserved at Longleat, and who readily granted 
 leave to the Syndics of the University Press to publish 
 them. It is but rarely, now, that an addition ot this 
 bulk can be made to the works of a writer who exercised 
 an abiding influence on the form of English verse, 
 besides being a person of importance in his day. 
 
 The additions thus made are of varying importance. 
 The prose Dialogues of the Dead seem to me to be 
 among the best of their kind. They were read by 
 Pope and thought ' very good,' and they were seen and 
 praised by a few other and lesser people in the 1 8th 
 century. The Dialogue between Mr John Lock and 
 
 1 See J. E. B. Mayor, in Notes and Querits, S. ii, v. 5, p. 356. 
 
 « 3 v
 
 NOTE 
 
 Seigneur de Montaigne, especially the encounter between 
 John and Margaret, will be enjoyed by all lovers of 
 Montaigne, and the lines on Conscience, a few of which 
 have previously been printed in collected editions of 
 Prior, can now be read, in their original and unabridged 
 form, in the delightful Dialogue between 'The Vicar of 
 Bray and Sir Thomas Moor. 
 
 The poems now first printed consist of juvenile 
 lines and mature verses, further addresses to the Lady 
 Margaret, foundress of St John's — his Cambridge col- 
 lege, to which he was ever attached and to which he 
 left his library — Hudibrastic lines, political verse, songs, 
 an imperfect attempt at a theme frequently undertaken 
 in his days [A Session of the Poets), light vers de societe, 
 personal addresses, ballads, translations, fragments in- 
 tended for Alma, an Answer to the Female Phaeton, 
 prologues, essays in blank verse, portions of an am- 
 bitious work on Predestination, epigrams and, perhaps 
 finest and most characteristic of all, the three-line 
 stanzas which, adapting a phrase in the poem, I have 
 ventured to call Jinny the Just. 
 
 All these, together with a few fragments which I 
 have kept only in my notes, are printed as found in 
 the Longleat papers, where they are preserved in the 
 form of rough originals or fair transcripts, the latter 
 showing evidence here and there of correction. They 
 have been printed from photographs or from transcripts, 
 and any alterations I have made (which have been as 
 few as possible) will be found indicated in the notes. 
 
 The appearance of the present volume has been 
 considerably delayed in order to examine the anony- 
 mous poetry contained in miscellanies, collections of 
 State Poems and other anthologies of the 1 8th century. 
 It was natural to suppose that some of the Longleat 
 vi
 
 NOTE 
 
 poems would be found in these collections, for we 
 know that much of Prior's work was published 
 anonymously and much, it may be added, attributed 
 to him upon the most flimsy evidence. Two or three 
 of the Longleat poems and part of one song, as in- 
 dicated in the notes, have been found by me in these 
 anthologies or elsewhere, but nothing else has been 
 discovered, or pointed out in answer to the list of titles 
 and first lines which, by the courtesy of the editor, 
 was printed in The Athenaeum some few months ago. 
 I need hardly add that if any of the poems now 
 printed are recognised as occurring elsewhere, I shall 
 be extremely obliged if the fact be communicated to me. 
 
 In addition to this fresh material, perhaps the most 
 interesting result of the examination of the Longleat 
 papers has been the discovery of fresh evidence as to 
 the authorship of poems repudiated by Prior. In the 
 preface to the edition of the poems contained in the 
 folio, before I had had an opportunity of going through 
 the Longleat papers, the opinion was expressed, based 
 upon knowledge gained in collating Prior's earlier 
 and later versions, that his disclaimer of the Satyrs 
 might be regarded in a diplomatic sense. Both Satyrs, 
 in their printed form, are preserved among the Prior 
 papers at Longleat, and the Satire upon the Poets, in 
 Imitation of the Seventh Satire of Juvenal has a hitherto 
 unprinted and signed postscript in verse, which will be 
 found in my notes (p. 389). These facts, and the very 
 significant verse on p. 336 (11. 25-8), seem to place 
 the authorship of the poems beyond reasonable doubt. 
 
 Lastly, so far as the Longleat papers are concerned, 
 the discovery that there are a great many more Latin 
 poems by Prior than have hitherto been printed as 
 his has caused me to leave out of the present edition
 
 NOTE 
 
 the few Latin verses hitherto published with his poems. 
 Limits of space seemed to urge that the present edition 
 should be confined, as in the case of Cowley, to English 
 writings. I had collected a few published items and 
 done a certain amount of collation when I came to this 
 decision, and it may be of interest to mention one 
 slight matter. The Latin poem On the Marriage of 
 George Prince of Denmark, and the Lady Anne, . ' Con- 
 junctum Veneri Martem, Danosque Britannis,' signed 
 A. Prior, Coll. Div. Joh. Alumn., in certain editions, 
 has, usually, a note attached to it signed K ( = Kynaston) 
 to the effect that ' This copy, notwithstanding the 
 signature, is beyond a doubt the property of the 
 facetious Matthew Prior.' Had editor or annotator 
 referred to Hymenaus Cantabrigiensis, 1683, in which 
 the poem first appeared, while ' the facetious Matthew 
 Prior ' was an undergraduate at St John's, it would 
 have been seen ' beyond a doubt ' that the printed 
 signature to that poem is ' M. Prior.' 
 
 A few words seem necessary respecting the arrange- 
 ment of the miscellaneous contents of this volume. 
 
 After 'The Hind and the Panther, in the notes to 
 which will be found an interesting document, hitherto 
 unprinted, abstracted from the Longleat papers, I 
 have followed the text of Curll's Supplement. After 
 the Supplement, I have followed the text of the 
 New Collection of Poems on Several Occasions. By Mr. 
 Prior, and Others., a rare volume, published in 1725. 
 A few trifling variations between the last printed and 
 earlier appearances will be found in the notes. From 
 p. 83 to p. 152 I have followed the two-volume 
 edition of Prior's Miscellaneous Works ' Now first pub- 
 lished from His | ORIGINAL MANUSCRIPTS. | 
 Revised by Himself, and Copied fair for the | Press j 
 viii
 
 NOTE 
 
 By Mr. ADRIAN DRIFT, His Executor. ! The 
 Second Edition. LONDON: \ Printed for the 
 EDITOR, MDCCXL.' 1 have not reprinted the 
 second volume of that compilation, containing THE 
 HISTORY OF | His Own Time, because there appears 
 to be doubt as to how much might fairly be regarded 
 as Prior's ; also, because the thorough examination of 
 Prior's historical papers is, I understand, in the hands 
 of the capable editors of the Historical MSS Com- 
 mission. From p. 153 to p. 175 I have followed the 
 text of the excellent edition that usually goes by the 
 name of T. Evans, 1779. I have not been able to ob- 
 tain much corroborative evidence that all the additional 
 poems in Evans are by Prior, but, in the case of the 
 Songs, I have been fortunate enough to find in the 
 library of St John's College, Cambridge, a copy of 
 the very rare music-book in which the songs were first 
 published, and one verse is reprinted from it for the 
 first time. On p. 364, are printed a few fugitive 
 items collected by previous editors : others, which 
 seemed unsupported by sufficient testimony or which 
 rested on recollection only, have been omitted. 
 
 The Appendix of poems attributed to Prior has 
 caused some trouble. Through the kindness of 
 Mr T. J. Wise, who is always willing to place his 
 unrivalled library of first editions at the service of 
 students, I have had an opportunity of reading many 
 rare 1 8th century poems, published separately in folio, 
 quarto and octavo and attributed to Prior. There is 
 practically nothing but internal evidence on which to 
 rely, and I have not been able to persuade myself that 
 more than a few of these can safely be attributed to 
 Prior. Two are printed from rare copies in the 
 possession of Mr Wise, and I wish to thank him for 
 
 ix
 
 NOTE 
 
 his leave to do this. Others, not printed, are mentioned 
 by name in the notes. One, pointed out to me by 
 Mr Wise, I have printed from Dodsley ; five, though 
 not with any great feeling of certainty, from Lintott's 
 undated Oxford and Cambridge Miscellany Poems ; one, 
 the paraphrase, may be Dorset's. 
 
 It remains to thank other helpers for much kind 
 assistance. Mr G. A. Brown helped me in the col- 
 lation of some of the early issues, when I was not 
 able to undertake it myself; the Librarian and staff 
 of the University Library, Cambridge, facilitated in 
 every possible way the examination of the Longleat 
 papers when they were kindly deposited in the 
 Library by the Marquess of Bath for that purpose ; 
 Mr J. Bass Mullinger, Mr J. H. A. Hart and Dr J. E. 
 Sandys helped me in matters relating to St John's 
 College ; Mr G. A. Aitken, Mr Austin Dobson and 
 Dr G. F. Warner, of the British Museum, aided me in 
 various ways ; and Mr R. A. Roberts, of the Public 
 Record Office, helped me to obtain the first transcript 
 of the Dialogues^ when permission had been granted, 
 and has, I am afraid, been frequently bothered by me 
 since. 
 
 There are many questions raised by these poems, 
 published or hitherto unpublished, which I should like 
 to discuss, but this must be left until it is possible to 
 publish a commentary upon them as a whole. 
 
 A. R. WALLER. 
 
 Cambridge, 
 
 io May, 1907.
 
 CONTENTS. 
 
 Piif. Hind and the Pannier rRANSVERS'D . 
 A Supplement to Mr. Prior's Poems . 
 
 To.. .the Countess Dowager of Devonshire . 
 
 The Female Phaeton 
 
 The Judgment of Venus ..... 
 
 Song to his Mistress ...... 
 
 An Ode in Imitation of the Second Ode of the Third 
 of Horace ....... 
 
 An Epistle to Sir Fleetwood Sheppard 
 
 A Satire on the Modern Translators 
 
 A Satire upon the Poets ..... 
 
 Poems FROM THE New Collection, 1725 
 
 Epitaph Extempore ...... 
 
 The Turtle and the Sparrow 
 
 Application of the Turtle and the Sparrow . 
 
 Down-Hall 
 
 Verses Spoke to the Lady Henrietta-Cavendish Holies H 
 
 Prologue to the Orphan 
 
 The Conversation ....... 
 
 Colin's Mistakes 
 
 Miscellaneous poems, etc., from the collection of 
 
 The Examiner. 7 September 1710 
 
 Miscellaneous poems, from the collection of E\ 
 
 including Twenty-four Songs. 
 Essays and Dialogues of the Dead . 
 Poems from the Longleat mss. 
 Fragments from Prior's Letters, etc. 
 Appendix 
 
 Poems Attributed to Prior .... 
 Notes 
 
 Index of Titles 
 Index of Firm Lines 
 
 Hook 
 
 irley 
 
 Dl 111 
 
 33 
 34 
 36 
 
 36 
 45 
 47 
 
 .5 7 
 58 
 69 
 70 
 
 73 
 76 
 
 77 
 80 
 
 83 
 147 
 
 15 3 
 177 
 271 
 
 364 
 
 36j 
 
 385 
 409 
 412
 
 THE 
 
 HIND 
 
 AND THE 
 
 PANTHER 
 
 TRANSVERSA 
 
 To the Story of 
 The Country-Mouse and the City-Mouse, 
 
 Much Malice mingled with a little Wit. Hind. Pan. 
 Nee vull Panthera domari. Quae Genus. 
 
 LONDON: 
 
 Printed for W. Davis, MDCLXXXVII.
 
 PREFACE. 
 
 THE Favourers of the Hind and Panther will be apt to say in 
 its Defence, That the best things are capable of being turnd 
 to Ridicule ; that Homer has been Burlesque 'd, and Virgil 
 Travested without suffering any thing in their Reputation from 
 that Bujfoonry ; and that in like manner, the Hind and the 
 Panther may be an exaSl Poem, though 'tis the Subjecl of our 
 Raillery : But there is this difference^ that those Authors are wrested 
 from their true Sense, and this naturally falls into Ridicule ; there 
 is nothing Represented here as monstrous and unnatural, which is 
 not equally so in the Original. First as to the General Design, Is 
 it not as easie to imagine two Mice bilking Coachmen, and supping 
 at the Devil ; as to suppose a Hind entertaining the Panther at a 
 Hermits Cell, discussing the greatest Mysteries of Religion, and 
 telling you her son Rodriguez writ very good Spanish ? JVhat can 
 be more improbable and contradiclory to the Rules and Examples of 
 all Fables, and to the very design and use of them? They were first 
 begun and raised to the highest Perfection in the Eastern Countries ; 
 where they wrote in Signs and spoke in Parables, and delivered the 
 most useful Precepts in delightful stories ; which for their Aptness 
 were entertaining to the most Judicious, and led the vulgar into 
 understanding by surprizing them ivith their Novelty, and fixing 
 their Atten\tion\ All their Fables carry a double meaning; the 
 Story is one and intire ; the Characlers the same throughout, not 
 broken or changed, and ahvays conformable to the Nature of the 
 Creatures they introduce. They never tell you that the Dog which 
 sua ft at a shadozv, lost his Troop of Horse, that would be unin- 
 telligible ; a piece of Flesh is proper for him to drop, and the Reader 
 will affly it to mankind; they would not sax that the Daw who 
 was so proud of her borrowed Plumes lookt very ridiculous when 
 Rodriguez came and took aivay all the book lu' the i/th, 24//;, 
 
 A 2 2
 
 PREFACE 
 
 and 25th Chapters, which she stole from him : But this is his new 
 way of telling a story, and confounding the Moral and the Fable 
 together. 
 
 Before the Word was written, said the Hind, 
 Our Saviour Preacht the Faith to all Mankind. 
 
 What relation has the Hind to our Saviour ? or what notion 
 have we of a Panther'^ Bible ? If you say he means the Church, 
 how does the Church feed on Lawns, or range in the Forest ? Let 
 it be always a Ch\_u\rch, or always the cloven-footed Beast, for we 
 cannot bear bis shifting the scene every Line. If it is absurd [in] 
 Comedies to make a Peasant talk in the strain of a Hero, or a 
 Country Wench use the language of the Court ; how monstrous is it 
 to make a Priest of a Hind, and a Parson of a Panther ? To 
 \b~\ring ^em in disputing with all the Formalities and Terms of the 
 School ? Tho\u\gh as to the Argutnents themselves, those, we confess, 
 are suited to the Capacity of the Beasts, and if we would suppose a 
 Hind expressing her self about these Matters, she would talk at 
 that Rate. 
 
 As to the Absurdity of his expressions, there is nothing wrested 
 to make ''em ridiculous, the terms are sometimes altered to make the 
 Blunder more visible ; Knowledg misunderstood is not at all 
 better sense than Understanding misunderstood, though ''tis confest 
 the Author can play with words so well, that this and twenty such 
 will pass off at a slight reading. 
 
 There are other mistakes which could not be brought in, for they 
 
 were too gross for Bayes himself to commit. 'Tis hard to conceive 
 
 how any man could censure the Turks for Gluttony, a People that 
 
 debauch in Coffee, are voluptuous in a mess of Rice, and keep the 
 
 strictest Lent, without the Pleasures of a Carnival to encourage 
 
 them. But *tis almost impossible to think that any man who had 
 
 not renounced his Senses, should read Duncomb for Allen : He 
 
 had been told that Mr. Allen had written a Discourse of Humility ; 
 
 Difference to which he wisely answers, That that magnified Piece ^/"Duncombs 
 
 Protestani Wfl* Translated from the Spanish s/~ Rodriguez, and to set it beyond 
 
 Tiln%'(>2 dispute, makes the infallible Guide affirm the same thing. There 
 
 Page 92 are f ew mistakes, but one may imagine how a Man fell into them, 
 
 and at least what he aim 1 d at ; but what likeness is there between 
 
 Duncomb and Allen ? do they so much as Rhime ? 
 
 We may have this comfort under the severity of his Satyr, to see
 
 PREFACE 
 
 his Abilities equally lessen d with his Opinion of us ; and that he 
 
 could not be a fit Champion against the Panther //// he had laid 
 
 aside all his "Judgment. But we must applaud his Obedience to his 
 
 new Mother Hind ; she Disciplin'd him severely, she commanded 
 
 him it seems, to Sacrifice his darling Fame, and to do it effectually 
 
 he publisht this learned Piece. This is the favourable Construction Page 90. 
 
 we would put on his faults, tho he takes care to inform us, that it 
 
 was done from no Imposition, but out of a natural Propensity he has 
 
 to Malice, and a particular Inclination of doing Mischief. JVhat p re f. 
 
 else could provoke him to Libel the Court, Blaspheme Kings, abuse 
 
 the whole Scotch Nation, rail at the greatest Part of his own, and 
 
 lay all the Indignities imaginable on the only established Religion ? 
 
 And we must now Congratulate him this Felicity, that there is no Pag. 87. 
 
 Seel or Denomination of Christians, whom he has not abused. 
 
 Thus far his Arms have with Success been crown'd. 
 
 Let Turks, Jews and Infidels, look to themselves, he has already 
 begun the IV ar upon them. TV hen once a Conqueror grows thus 
 dreadful, 'tis the Interest of all his Neighbours to oppose him, for 
 there is no Alliance to be made tvith one that will face about, and 
 destroy his Friends, and like a second Almanzor, change sides meerly 
 to keep his hand in ure. This Heroick te/nper of his, has created 
 him some Enemies, that did by no means affeel Hostility ; and he 
 may observe this Candor in the Management, that none of his Works 
 are concern d in these Papers, but his last Piece ; and I believe he is 
 sensible this is a favour. I was not ambitious of Laughing at any 
 Perswasion, or making Religion the Subject of such a Trifle ; so 
 that no man is here concern d, but the Author himself, and nothing 
 tidicuVd but his way of arguing. 
 
 But, Gentlemen, if you wont take it so, you must grant my 
 Excuse is more reasonable than our Author s to the Dissenters.
 
 THE 
 
 HIND 
 
 AND THE 
 
 PANTHER, 
 
 Transvers'd to the Story of the Country and 
 the City-Mouse 
 
 H 
 
 Bayes. Johnson. Smith. 
 
 Johnson. 
 AH ! my old friend Mr. Bayes, what lucky chance has 
 thrown me upon you ? Dear Rogue, let me embrace 
 thee. 
 
 Bayes. Hold, at your peril, Sir, stand off and come not 
 within my Swords point, for if you are not come over to the 
 Pref. p. i. Royal party, I expert neither fair war, nor fair quarter from 
 you. 
 
 Johns. How, draw upon your friend ? and assault your 
 old Acquaintance ? O' my conscience my intentions were 
 Honourable. 
 
 Bayes. Conscience ! Ay, ay, I know the deceit of that 
 Pref. ib. word well enough, let me have the marks of your Conscience 
 before I trust it, for if it be not of the same stamp with mine, 
 Gad I may be knockt down for all your fair promises. 
 
 Smith. Nay, prithee Bayes, what damn'd Villany hast thou 
 been about, that thou'rt under these apprehensions ? upon my 
 Honour I'm thy friend ; yet thou lookest as sneaking and 
 frighted, as a dog that has been worrying sheep. 
 Pref. ib. Bayes. Ay Sir, The Nation is in too high a ferment for me to 
 
 expeel any mercy, or I'gad, to trust any body. 
 
 Smith. But why this to us, my old friend, who you know 
 never trouble our heads with National concerns, till the third 
 bottle has taught us as much of Politicks, as the next does of 
 Religion ?
 
 HIND AND PANTHER TRANSVERSA 
 
 Bayes. Ah Gentlemen, leave this prophaneness, I am 
 alter'd since you saw me, and cannot bear this loose talk now ; 
 Mr. Johnson, you are a man of Parts, let me desire you to read 
 the Guide of Controversy ; and Mr. Smith, I would recommend 
 to you the Considerations on the Council of Trent, and so Gentle- Page s- 
 men your humble Servant. Good life be now my Task. 
 
 Johns. Nay Faith, we wont part so : believe us we are 
 both your Friends ; let us step to the Rose for one quarter of an 
 hour, and talk over old Stories. 
 
 Bayes. I ever took you to be men of Honour, and for 
 your sakes I will transgress as far as one Pint. 
 
 Johns. Well, Mr. Bayes, many a merry bout have we had 
 in this House, and shall have again, I hope : Come, what Wine 
 are you for? 
 
 Bayes. Gentlemen, do you as you please, for my part he 
 shall bring me a single Pint of any thing. 
 
 Smith. How so, Mr. Bayes, have you lost your pallat ? 
 you have been more curious. 
 
 Bayes. True, I have so, but senses must be starvd that the 
 soul may be gratified. Men of your Kidney make the senses the Page 21. 
 supream Judg, and therefore bribe 'em high, but we have laid 
 both the use and pleasure of 'em aside. 
 
 Smith. What, is not there good eating and drinking on 
 both sides ? you make the separation greater than I thought it. 
 
 Bayes. No, no, whenever you see a fat Rosie-colour'd ibid, 
 fellow, take it from me, he is either a Protestant or a Turk. 
 
 Johns. At that rate, Mr. Bayes, one might suspect your 
 conversion ; methinks thou hast as much the face of an Heretick 
 as ever I saw. 
 
 Bayes. Such ivas I, such by nature still I am. But I hope Page 5. 
 ere long I shall have drawn this pamper d Paunch fitter for the 
 straight gate. 
 
 Smith. Sure, Sir, you are in ill hands, your Confessor 
 gives you more severe rules than he practices ; for not long 
 ago a Fat Frier was thought a true C ha racier. 
 
 Bayes. Things were misrepresented to me : I confess 
 I have been unfortunate in some of my Writings : but since 
 you have put me upon that subject, Fie show you a thing 
 I have in my Pocket shall wipe off all that, or I am mistaken. 
 
 Smith. Come, now thou art like thy self again. Here's 
 the Kings Health to thee Communicate. 
 
 7
 
 MATTHEW PRIOR 
 
 Bayes. Well, Gentlemen, here it is, and I'le be bold to 
 say, the exaclest Piece the world ever saw, a Non Pareillo 
 I'faith. But I must bespeak your pardons if it reflects any 
 thing upon your perswasion. 
 
 "Job. Use your Liberty, Sir, you know we are no Bigots. 
 
 Bayes. Why then you shall see me lay the Reformation on 
 its back, I'gad, and justifie our Religion by way of Fable. 
 
 Johns. An apt contrivance indeed ! what do you make a 
 Fable of your Religion ? 
 
 Bayes. Ay I'gad, and without Morals too ; for I tread in 
 no mans steps ; and to show you how far I can out-do any 
 thing that ever was writ in this kind, I have taken Horace's 
 design, but I'gad, have so out-done him, you shall be asham'd 
 for your old friend. You remember in him the Story of the 
 Country-Mouse, and the City-Mouse ; what a plain simple thing 
 it is, it has no more life and spirit in it, I'gad, than a Hobby- 
 horse ; and his Mice talk so meanly, such common stuff, so like 
 meer Mice, that I wonder it has pleas'd the world so long. But 
 now will I undeceive Mankind, and teach 'em to heighten, and 
 elevate a Fable. I'le bring you in the very same Mice disputing 
 the depth of Philosophy, searching into the fundamentals of 
 Religion, quoting Texts, Fathers, Councils, and all that, I'gad, as 
 you shall see either of 'em could easily make an Asse of a 
 Country Vicar. Now whereas Horace keeps to the dry naked 
 story, I have more copiousness than to do that, I'gad. Here, 
 I draw you general Characters, and describe all the beasts of the 
 Creation ; there, I launch out into long Digressions, and leave 
 my Mice for twenty Pages together ; then I fall into Raptures, 
 and make the finest Soliloquies, as would ravish you. Won't 
 this do, think you ? 
 
 Johns. Faith, Sir, I don't well conceive you ; all this 
 about two Mice ? 
 
 Bayes. Ay, why not ? is it not great and Heroical ? but 
 come, you'l understand it better when you hear it ; and pray 
 be as severe as you can, I'gad I defie all Criticks. Thus it 
 begins. 
 Pa e- *■ A milk-white Mouse immortal and unchanged, 
 
 Fed on soft Cheese, and oWe the Dairy rangd ; 
 Without, unspotted ; innocent within, 
 She feared no danger, for she knew no Ginn. 
 
 8
 
 HIND AND PANTHER TRANSVERSA 
 
 "Johns. Methinks Mr. Bayes, soft Cheese is a little too 
 coarse Diet for an immortal Mouse ; were there any necessity 
 for her eating, you should have consulted Homer for some 
 Ccelestial Provision. 
 
 Bayes. Faith, Gentlemen, I did so ; but indeed I have not 
 the Latin one, which I have marlc'd by me, and could not 
 readily find it in the Original. 
 
 Yet had She oft been scar'd by bloody Claws Pag. i. 
 
 Of winged Owls, and stern Grimalkins Paws 
 Aimd at her destin'd Head, which made her fly, Pag. 2. 
 
 Tho She was doom 7/ to Death, and fated not to dye. 
 
 Smith. How came She that feard no danger in the line 
 before, to be scar'd in this, Mr. Bayesl 
 
 Bayes. Why then you may have it chas'd if you will ; 
 for I hope a Man may run away without being afraid; 
 mayn't he ? 
 
 Johns. But pray give me leave : how was She doomd to 
 Death, if She was fated not to dye ; are not doom and fate, 
 much the same thing ? 
 
 Bayes. Nay Gentlemen, if you question my skill in the 
 Language, I'm your humble Servant ; the Rogues the Criticks, 
 that will allow me nothing else, give me that ; sure I that 
 made the Word, know best what I meant by it : I assure you, 
 doornd and. fated, are quite different things. 
 
 Smith. Faith, Mr. Bayes, if you were doornd to be hang'd, 
 whatever you were fated to, 'twould give you but small 
 comfort. 
 
 Bayes. Never trouble your head with that, Mr. Smith, 
 mind the business in hand. 
 
 Not so her young; their Linsy-woolsy line, Pag. 2. 
 
 TV as Hero's make, half humane, half Divine. 
 
 Smith. Certainly these Hero's, half Humane, half Divine, 
 have very little of the Mouse their Mother. 
 
 Bayes. Gadsokers ! Mr. Johnson, does your Friend think 
 I mean nothing but a Mouse, by all this ? I tell thee, Man, 
 I mean a Church, and these young Gentlemen her Sons, signifie 
 Priests, Martyrs and Confessors, that were hang'd in Oats's Plot. 
 There's an excellent Latin Sentence, which I had a mind to
 
 MATTHEW PRIOR 
 
 bring in, Sanguis Martyrum semen Eccles'ue, and I think I have 
 not wrong'd it in the Translation. 
 
 Of these a slaughter } d Army lay in Bloody 
 Pag. 2. Whose sanguine Seed encreas"d the sacred Brood ; 
 
 She multiplied by these, now ranged alone, 
 Pag. 3. And wandered in the Kingdoms once her own. 
 
 Smith. Was She alone when the sacred Brood was en- 
 creased ? 
 
 Bayes. Why thy Head's running on the Mouse again ; but 
 I hope a Church may be alone, tho the Members be encreased, 
 mayn't it ? 
 
 Johns. Certainly Mr. Bayes, a Church which is a diffusive 
 Body of Men, can much less be said to be alone. 
 
 Bayes. But are you really of that Opinion ? Take it from 
 me, Mr. Johnson, you are wrong ; however to oblige you, I'le 
 clap in some Simile or other, about the Children of Israel, and it 
 shall do. 
 
 Smith. Will you pardon me one word more, Mr. Bayes ? 
 What could the Mouse (for I suppose you mean her now) do 
 more then range in the Kingdoms, when they were her own ? 
 
 Bayes. Do ? why She reigrid ; had a Diadem, Scepter and 
 Ball, till they depos'd her. 
 
 Smith. Now her Sons are so encreas'd, She may try t'other 
 pull for't. 
 
 Bayes. I gad, and so She may before 1 have done with 
 Her ; it has cost me some pains to clear Her Title. Well, but 
 Mum for that, Mr. Smith. 
 
 The common Hunt, She timorously past by, 
 Pag. 3 . For they made tame, disdain d Her company ; 
 
 They grin'd, She in a fright tript o're the Green, 
 For She was lovd, whereever She was seen. 
 
 Johns. Well said little Bayes, I'faith the Critick must 
 have a great deal of leasure, that attacks those Verses. 
 
 Bayes. I gad, I'le warrant him, who ere he is, offendet 
 so lido ; but I go on. 
 
 Pag. 3 . The Independent Beast. 
 
 Smith. Who is that Mr. Bayes? 
 
 10
 
 HIND AND PANTHER TRANSVERSA 
 
 Bayes. Why a Bear : Pox, is not that obvious enough ? 
 
 In groans Her hate exprest. 
 
 Which I gad, is very natural to that Animal. Well ! there's for 
 the Independent : Now the Quaker ; what do you think I call 
 him ? 
 
 Smith. Why, A Bull, for ought I know. 
 
 Bayes. A Bull ! O Lord ! A Bull ! no, no, a Hare, a 
 
 quaking Hare. Armarillis, because She wears Armour, 'tis 
 
 the same Figure ; and I am proud to say it, Mr. Johnson, no 
 man knows how to pun in Heroics but my self. Well, you 
 shall hear. 
 
 She thought, and reason good, the quaking Hare 
 
 Her cruel Foe, because She would not swear, Pag. 3 . 
 
 And had professed neutrality. 
 
 Johns. A shrew'd Reason that, Mr. Bayes ; but what 
 Wars were there ? 
 
 Bayes. Wars ! why there had bin bloody Wars, tho they 
 were pretty well reconcil'd now. Yet to bring in two or three 
 such fine things as these, I don't tell you the Lyon's Peace was 
 proclaim'd till fifty pages after, tho 'twas really done before 
 I had finish'd my Poem. 
 
 Next Her, the Buffoon Ape his body bent, Pa e- 3- 
 
 And paid at Church a Courtier's complement. 
 
 That Gauls somewhere ; I gad I can't leave it oft', tho 
 I were cudgel'd every day for it. 
 
 The brisFd Baptist Boar, impure as he. Pa s- *• 
 
 Smith. As who ? 
 
 Bays. As the Courtier, let 'em e'n take it as they will, Pag. 86. 
 I gad, I seldom come amongst 'em. 
 
 Was whiten d with the foam of Sanctity. Pag. 10. 
 
 The JVolf with Belly-gaunt his rough crest rears, 
 
 And pricks up. Now in one word will I abuse the 
 
 whole Party most damnably and pricks up. 1 gad, 
 
 I am sure you'l Laugh his predestinating Ears. Prethee 
 
 Mr. Johnson, remember little Bays, when next you sec a Pres- 
 
 1 1
 
 MATTHEW PRIOR 
 
 byterian, and take notice if he has not Predestination in the 
 shape of his Ear : I have studied men so long. I'le undertake 
 to know an Arminian, by the setting of his Wig. 
 
 His predestinating Ears. I gad there's ne're a Pres- 
 byterian shall dare to show his Head without a Border : I'le 
 put 'em to that expence. 
 
 Smith. Pray Mr. Bays, if any of 'em should come over to 
 the Ro\al Party, would their Ears alter ? 
 
 Bayes. Would they ? Ay, I gad, they would shed their 
 Fanatical Lugs, and have just such well-turn'd Ears as I have; 
 mind this Ear, this is a true Roman Ear, mine are much 
 chang'd for the better within this two years. 
 
 Smith. Then if ever the Party should chance to fail, you 
 might lose 'em, for what may change, may fall. 
 
 Bayes. Mind, mind 
 
 Pag. ii. These fiery Zuinglius, meagre Calvin bred. 
 
 Smith. Those I suppose are some Out-Landish Beasts, 
 Mr. Bayes. 
 
 Bayes. Beasts ; a good Mistake ! Why they were the 
 chief Reformers, but here I put 'em in so bad Company because 
 they were Enemies to my Mouse, and anon when I am warm'd, 
 I'gad you shall hear me call 'em Doclors, Captains, Horses and 
 Pag. 39. Horsemen in the very same Breath. You shall hear how I go 
 on now, 
 
 Or else reforming Corah spawn'd this Class, 
 Pag. 11. When opening Earth made way for all to pass. 
 
 "John. For all, Mr. Bayes ? 
 
 Bayes. Yes, They were all lost there, but some of 'em 
 were thrown up again at the Leman-Lake : as a Catholick 
 Queen sunk at Charing-Cross, and rose again at Shieenhith. 
 
 The Fox and he came shuffled in the dark, 
 Pag. 11. If ever they were stowed in Noah'j Ark. 
 
 Here I put a Quaere, Whether there were any Socinians before 
 the Flood, which I'm not very well satisfied in ? I have been 
 lately apt to believe that the World was drown'd for that 
 Heresy ; which among Friends made me leave it. 
 
 Quickned with Fire below, these Monsters breed 
 Pag. 12. In Fenny Holland, and in Fruitful Tweed. 
 
 12
 
 HIND AND PANTHER TRANSVERS'D 
 
 Now to write something new and out of the way, to elevate 
 and surprize, and all that, I fetch, you see this Quickning Fire 
 from the Bottom of Boggs and Rivers. 
 
 John. Why, Faith, that's as ingenious a Contrivance as 
 the Virtuoso 1 % making a Burning-Glass of Ice. 
 
 Bayes. Why was there ever any such thing ? Let me 
 perish if ever I heard of it. The Fancy was sheer new to me ; 
 and I thought no Man had reconcil'd those Elements but my 
 self. Well Gentlemen ! Thus far I have followed Antiquity, 
 and as Homer has numbred his Ships, so I have rang'd my 
 Beasts. Here is my Boar and my Bear, and my Fox, and my 
 IVolf, and the rest of 'em all against my poor Mouse. Now 
 what do you think I do with all these ? 
 
 Smith. Faith I do'nt know, I suppose you make 'em fight. 
 
 Bayes. Fight ! I'gad I'd as soon make 'em Dance. No, 
 I do no earthly thing with 'em, nothing at all, I'gad : I think 
 they have play'd their Parts sufficiently already ; I have walk'd 
 'em out, show'd 'em to the Company, and rais'd your Ex- 
 pectation. And now whilst you hope to see 'em bated, and are 
 dreaming of Blood and Battels, they sculk off, and you hear no 
 more of 'em. 
 
 Smith. Why, Faith, Mr. Bayes, now you have been at 
 such expence in setting forth their Characters, it had been too 
 much to have gone through with 'em. 
 
 Bayes. I'gad so it had : And then I'le tell you another 
 thing, 'tis not every one that reads a Poem through. And 
 therefore I fill the first part with Flowers, Figures, fine 
 Language, and all that ; and then I'gad sink by degrees, till 
 at last I write but little better than other People. And whereas 
 most Authors creep servilely after the Old Fellows, and strive to 
 grow upon their Readers ; I take another Course, I bring in all 
 my Characters together, and let 'em see I could go on with 
 'em ; but I'gad, I wo'nt. 
 
 "John. Could go on with 'em Mr. Bayes ! there's no 
 Body doubts that ; You have a most particular Genius that way. 
 
 Bayes. Oh ! Dear Sir, You are mighty obliging : But 
 I must needs say, at a Fable or an Emblem, I think no Man 
 comes near me, indeed I have studied it more than any Man. 
 Did you ever take notice, Mr. "Johnson, of a little thing that 
 has taken mightily about Town, a dit with a Top-knot ? 
 
 *3
 
 MATTHEW PRIOR 
 
 "John. Faith, Sir, 'tis mighty pretty, I saw it at the 
 Coffee-House. 
 
 Ba\es. 'Tis a Trifle hardly worth owning ; I was t'other 
 Day at Will's throwing out something of that Nature ; and 
 I'gad, the hint was taken, and out came that Piclure ; indeed 
 the poor Fellow was so civil to present me with a dozen of 'em 
 for my Friends, I think I have one here in my Pocket ; would 
 you please to accept it Mr "Johnson ? 
 
 "John. Really 'tis very ingenious. 
 
 Bayes. Oh Lord ! Nothing at all, I could design twenty 
 of 'em in an Hour, if I had but witty Fellows about me to 
 draw 'em. I was proffer'd a Pension to go into Holland, and 
 contrive their Emblems. But hang 'em they are dull Rogues, 
 and would spoil my Invention. But come, Gentlemen, let us 
 return to our Business, and here I'le give you a delicate de- 
 scription of a Man. 
 
 Smith. But how does that come in ? 
 
 Bayes. Come in ? very naturally. I was talking of a 
 Wolf, and that supposes a Wood, and then I clap an Epithet 
 to't, and call it a Celtic Wood : Now when I was there, I could 
 not help thinking of the French Persecution, and I'gad from all 
 these Thoughts I took occasion to rail at the French King, and 
 show that he was not of the same make with other Men, 
 which thus I prove. 
 
 The Divine Blacksmith in tb > Abyss of Light, 
 Pag. i S . Yawning and lolling with a careless beat, 
 
 Struck out the mute Creation at a Heat. 
 But he work'd hard to Hammer out our Souls, 
 He blew the Bellows, and stir'd up the Coals ; 
 Long time he thought, and could not on a sudden 
 Par I9 Knead up with unskim'd Milk this Reas'ning Pudding: 
 
 Tender, and mild within its Bag it lay 
 Confessing still the softness of its Clay, f 
 
 And kind as Milk-Maids on their Wedding-Day. i 
 Till Pride of Empire, Lust, and hot Desire 
 Did over-boile him, like too great a Fire, 
 And understanding grown, misunderstood, 
 Burn'd Him to th' Pot, and sour'd his curdled Blood. 
 
 John. But sure this is a little prophane, Mr. Bayes. 
 
 H
 
 HIND AND PANTHER TRANSVERSA 
 
 Ba\fS. Not at all : do's not Virgil bring in his God Vulcan 
 working at the Anvil? 
 
 "John. Ay Sir, but never thought his Hands the fittest to 
 make a Pudding. 
 
 Bayes. Why do you imagin Him an Earthly dirty Black- 
 smith ? 'Gad you make it prophane indeed. Tic tell you, 
 there's as much difference betwixt 'em, I'gad as betwixt my 
 Man and Milton's. But now, Gentlemen, the Plot thickens, 
 here comes my t'other Mouse, the City Mouse. 
 
 A spotted Mouse, the prettiest next the White, 
 
 Ah ! were her Spots wash'd out, as pretty quite, p ag . 16. 
 
 With Phylacteries on her Forehead spred, 
 
 Crozier in Hand, and Miter on her Head. £ a g- 2 s- 
 
 Three Steeples Argent on her Sable Shield, Pag! 84! 
 
 Liv'd in the City, and disdain'd the Field. 
 
 "John. This is a glorious Mouse indeed ! but, as you have 
 dress'd her, we do'nt know whether she be Jeiv, Papist or 
 Protestant. 
 
 Bayes. Let me embrace you, Mr. Johnson, for that ; you 
 take it right. She is a meer Babel of Religions, and therefore 
 she's a spotted Mouse here, and will be a Mule presently. But 
 to go on. 
 
 This Princess 
 
 Smith. What Princess, Mr. Bayes ? 
 
 Bayes. Why this Mouse, for I forgot to tell you, an Old 
 Lyon made a left Hand Marriage with her Mother, and begot Pag. 20. 
 on her Body Elizabeth Schism, who was married to Timothy 
 Sacriledg, and had Issue Graceless Heresy. Who all give the 
 same Coat with their Mother, Three Steeples Argent, as I told 
 you before. 
 
 This Princess, tho estranged from what was best, 
 
 Was least Deform' d, because Reforrnd the least. Pag. 23. 
 
 There's De and Re as good I'gad as ever was. 
 
 She in a Masquerade of Mirth and Love, Pag - ■*• 
 
 Mistook the Bliss of Heaven for Bacchanals above, 
 And gruFd the Thorns beneath our tender Feet, 
 To make the Paths of Paradise, mqrt <:vret. 
 
 15
 
 MATTHEW PRIOR 
 
 There's a Jolly Mouse for you, let me see any Body else that 
 can shew you such another. Here now have I one damnable 
 severe, reflecting Line, but I want a Rhime to it, can you help 
 me Mr. "Johnson. 
 
 She 
 
 Humbly content to be despised at Home, 
 
 John. Which is too narrow Infamy for some. 
 Bayes. Sir, I thank you, now I can go on with it. 
 
 Pag. 63. JVhose Merits are diffused from Pole to Pole, 
 
 Where Winds can carry, and where Waves can rowl. 
 
 John. But does not this reflect upon some of your Friends, 
 Mr. Bayes ? 
 
 Bayes. 'Tis no matter for that, let me alone to bring my 
 self off. I'le tell you, lately I writ a damn'd Libel on a whole 
 Party, sheer Point and Satyr all through, I'gad. Call'd 'em 
 Rogues, Dogs, and all the Names I could think of, but with 
 an exceeding deal of Wit ; that I must needs say. Now it 
 happen'd before I could finish this Peice, the Scheme of Affairs 
 was altered, and those People were no longer Beasts : Here 
 was a Plunge now : Should I lose my Labour, or Libel my 
 Friends ? 'Tis not every Body's Talent to find a Salvo for 
 this : But what do me I, but write a smooth delicate Preface, 
 wherein I tell them that the Satyr was not intended to them, and 
 this did the Business. 
 
 Smith. But if it was not intended to them against whom 
 it was writ, certainly it had no meaning at all. 
 
 Bayes. Poh ! There's the Trick on't. Poor Fools, they 
 took it, and were satisfied : And yet it maul'd 'em damnably 
 I'gad. 
 
 Smith. Why Faith, Mr. Bayes, there's this very Con- 
 trivance in the Preface to Dear Joys Jests. 
 
 Bayes. What a Devil do you think that I'd steal from such 
 an Author? Or ever read it? 
 
 Smith. I can't tell, but you sometimes read as bad. I have 
 heard you quote Reynard the Fox. 
 
 Bayes. Why there's it now ; take it from me, Mr. Smith, 
 there is as good Morality, and as sound Precepts, in the deleg- 
 able History of Reynard the Fox, as in any Book I know, except 
 
 16
 
 HIND AND PANTHER TRANSVERSA 
 
 Seneca. Pray tell me where in any other Author could I have 
 found so pretty a Name for a Wolf as Isgrim ? But prithee, 
 Mr. Smithy give me no more trouble, and let me go on with my 
 Mouse. 
 
 One Evenings when she went away from Court, Pag. 29. 
 
 Levee's and Couchee 's past without resort. 
 
 There's Court Language for you ; nothing gives a Verse so 
 fine a turn as an Air of good Breeding. 
 
 Smith. But methinks the Levee's and Couchee's of a Mouse 
 are too great, especially when she is walking from Court to the 
 cooler Shades. 
 
 Bayes. I'gad now have you forgot what I told you, that 
 she was a Princess. But pray mind ; here the two Mice 
 meet. 
 
 She met the Country Mouse, whose fearful Face 
 
 Beheld from far the common watering Place, Pag. 29. 
 
 Nor durst approach 
 
 Smith. Methinks, Mr. Bayes, this Mouse is strangely 
 alter'd, since she fear'd no Danger. 
 
 Bayes. Godsokers ! Why no more she does not yet, fear 
 either Man or Beast : But, poor Creature, she's afraid of the 
 Water, for she could not swim, as you see by this. 
 
 Nor durst approach, till tuith an awful Roar 
 
 'The Soveraign Lyon bad her fear no more. Pag. 30. 
 
 But besides, 'tis above thirty Pages off that I told you she 
 fear'd no Danger ; and I'gad if you will have no variation of 
 the Character, you must have the same thing over and over 
 again ; 'tis the Beauty of Writing to strike you still with 
 something new. Well, but to proceed. 
 
 But when she had this sweetest Mouse in view, 
 
 Good Lord, how she admir d her Heavenly Hiew ! p a g. jo. 
 
 Here now to show you I am Master of all Stiles, I let my self 
 down from the Majesty of Virgil, to the Sweetness of Ovid. 
 
 Good Lord, how she admir' d her Heavenly Hieiu ! 
 
 What more easy and familiar ! I writ this Line for the Ladies : 
 The little Rogues will be so fond of me to find I can yet be so 
 
 P. 11. B 17
 
 MATTHEW PRIOR 
 
 tender. I hate such a rough unhewen Fellow as Milton, that a 
 Man must sweat to read Him ; I'gad you may run over this and 
 be almost asleep. 
 
 Th' Immortal Mouse, who saw the Viceroy come 
 So far to see Her, did invite her Home. 
 
 There's a pretty Name now for the Spotted Mouse, the 
 Viceroy ! 
 
 Smith. But pray why d'e call her so ? 
 
 Bayes. Why ! Because it sounds prettily : I'le call her the 
 Pag. ss- Crown-General presently if I've a mind to it. Well. 
 
 did invite her Home 
 
 To smoak a Pipe, and o're a sober Pot 
 Discourse of Oates and Bedloe, and the Plot. 
 Pag. 31. She made a Court'sy, like a Civil Dame, 
 
 And, being much a Gentlewoman, came. 
 
 Pag. 32. Well, Gentlemen, here's my first part finish'd, and I think 
 I have kept my Word with you, and given it the Majestick 
 turn of Heroic k Poesy. The rest being ?natter of Dispute, I had 
 not such frequent occasion for the magnificence of Verse, tho I'gad 
 they speak very well. And I have heard Men, and considerable 
 Men too, talk the very same things, a great deal worse. 
 
 fohn. Nay, without doubt, Mr. Bayes, they have received 
 no small advantage from the smoothness of your numbers. 
 
 Bayes. Ay, ay, I can do't, if I list : though you must not 
 think I have been so dull as to mind these things myself, but 'tis the 
 advantage of our Coffee-house, that from their talk one may write 
 a very good polemical discourse, without ever troubling ones head 
 with the Books of Controversie. For I can take the slightest of 
 their Arguments, and clap 'em pertly into four Verses, which 
 shall stare any London Divine in the face. Indeed your knotty 
 Reasonings with a long train of Majors and Minors, and the 
 Devil and all, are too barbarous for my stile ; but 'i gad I can 
 flourish better with one of these twinkling Arguments, than the 
 best of 'em can fight with t'other. But we return to our Mouse, 
 and now I've brought 'em together, let 'em 'en speak for them- 
 selves, which they will do extreamly well, or I'm mistaken : 
 and pray observe, Gentlemen, if in one you don't find all the 
 
 18
 
 HIND AND PANTHER TRANSVERSA 
 
 delicacy of a luxurious City-Mouse, and in the other all the 
 plain simplicity of a sober serious Matron. 
 
 Dame, said the Lady of the Spotted Muff, Pag. 32. 
 
 Methinlcs your Tiff is sour, your Cates meer stuff. 
 
 There did not I tell you she'd be nice ? 
 
 Your Pipe's so foul, that I disdain to smoak ; 
 And the Weed worse than e're Tom. I — s took. 
 
 Smith. I did not hear she had a Spotted Muff before. 
 
 Bayes. Why no more she has not now : but she has a 
 Skin that might make a Spotted Muff There's a pretty Figure 
 now, unknown to the Ancients. 
 
 Leave, leave (f she's earnest you see) this hoary Shed and t Poeta 
 
 I 1 TT-ii Loquitur. 
 
 lonely Hills, 
 And eat with me at Groleau's, smoak at Will's. 
 What Wretch would nibble on a Hanging-shelf, 
 When at Pontack's he may Regale himself? 
 Or to the House of cleanly Renish go ; 
 Or that at C ha ring-Cross, or that in Channel-Row ? 
 
 Do you mark me now ? I would by this represent the 
 vanity of a Town-Fop, who pretends to be acquainted at all 
 those good Houses, though perhaps he nere was in 'em. But 
 heark ! she goes on. 
 
 Come, at a Crown a Head our selves we'll treat, 
 
 Champain our Liquor, and Ragousts our Meat. 
 
 Then hand in hand we'll go to Court, dear Cuz, 
 
 To visit Bishop Martin, and King Buz. 
 
 With Evening Wheels we'll drive about the Park, 
 
 Finish at Locket's, and reel home i'th' Dark. 
 
 Break clattering Windows, and demolish Doors 
 
 Of English Manufactures — Pimps, and Whores. Pag 63. 
 
 John. Methinks a Pimp or a Whore, is an odd sort of, a 
 Manufacture, Mr. Bayes. 
 
 Bayes. I call 'em so, to give the Parliame?it a hint not to 
 suffer so many of 'em to be exported, to the decay of Trade at home. 
 
 With these Allurements Spotted did invite 
 
 From Hermits Cell, the Female Proselyte. 
 
 Oh ! with what ease we follozu such a Guide, 
 
 Where Souls are starv'd, and Senses gratifi'd. 
 
 B 2 19
 
 MATTHEW PRIOR 
 
 Now would not you think she's going ? but I gad, you're 
 mistaken ; you shall hear a long Argument about Infallibility, 
 before she stirs yet. 
 
 Pag. 69. But here the White, by observation wise, 
 
 Who long on Heaven had fixt her prying Eyes, 
 With thoughtful Countenance, and grave Remark, 
 Said, or my Judgment fails me, or 'tis dark. 
 Lest therefore we should stray, and not go right, 
 Through the brown horrour of the starless Night. 
 
 Pag. 37. Hast thou Infallibility, that Wight P 
 
 Sternly the Savage grin'd, and thus reply' 'd : 
 That Mice may err, was never yet dentfd. 
 That I deny, said the immortal Dame, 
 
 Pag. S7- There is a Guide — Gad I've forgot his Name, 
 
 Who lives in Heaven or Rome, the Lord knows where, 
 Had we but him, Sweet-heart, we could not err. 
 
 spotted But heark you, Sister, this is but a Whim ; 
 
 Loquitur. For still we want a Guide to find out Him. 
 
 Here you see I don't trouble my self to keep on the 
 Narration, but write white Speaks or dapple Speaks by the 
 side. But when I get any noble thought which I envy a 
 Mouse should say, I clap it down in my own Person with a 
 Pag. 69. Poeta Loquitur; which, take notice, is a surer sign of a fine 
 thing in my Writings, than a Hand in the Margent any-where 
 else. Well now says White, 
 
 What need we find Him ? we have certain proof 
 That he is somewhere, Dame, and that's enough : 
 For if there is a Guide that knows the way, 
 Although we know not him, we cannot stray. 
 
 That's true, I Gad : Well said White. You see her 
 Adversary has nothing to say for her self, and therefore to 
 confirm the Victory, she shall make a Simile. 
 
 Smith. Why then I find Similes are as good after Victory, 
 as after a Surprize. 
 
 Bayes. Every Jot, I Gad, or rather better. Well, she can 
 Pag. 37. do it two ways, either about Emission or Reception of Light, or 
 
 20
 
 HIND AND PANTHER TRANSVERSA 
 
 else about Epsom-waters ; but I think the last is most familiar ; 
 therefore speak, my pretty one. 
 
 As though 'tis controverted in the School, 
 
 If Waters pass by Urine or by Stool. 
 
 Shall we who are Philosophers, thence gather 
 
 From this dissention that they work by neither. 
 
 And I Gad, she's in the right on't ; but mind now, she 
 comes upon her swop ! 
 
 All this I did, your Arguments to try. 
 
 And I Gad, if they had been never so good, this next Line 
 confutes 'em. 
 
 Hear, and be dumb, thou Wretch, that Guide am I. p a g. 54. 
 
 There's a Surprize for you now ! How sneakingly t'other 
 looks ? Was not that pretty now, to make her ask for a Guide 
 first, and then tell her she was one ? Who could have thought 
 that this little Mouse had the Pope and a whole General Council 
 in her Belly? Now Dapple had nothing to say to this ; and 
 therefore you'll see she grows peevish. 
 
 Come leave your Cracking tricks, and as they say, 
 Use not, that Barber that trims time, delay [_ Pag. 101. 
 
 Which I gad is new, and my own. 
 
 I've Eyes as well as you to find the way. 
 
 Then on they jogg'd, and since an hour of talk 
 
 Might cut a Banter on the tedious zoalk ; 
 
 As I remember said the sober Mouse, 
 
 I've heard much talk of the IVits Coffee-House. 
 
 Thither, says Brindlc, thou shalt go, and see 
 
 Priests sipping Coffee, Sparks and Poets Tea 5 
 
 Here rugged Freeze, there Quality well drest, 
 
 These barling the Grand-Seigniour ; those the Test. 
 
 And hear shrew'd guesses made, and reasons given, 
 
 That humane Laws were never made in Heaven. Pa g . m. 
 
 But above all, what shall oblige thy sight, 
 
 And fill thy Eye-Balls with a vast delight ; 
 
 Is the Poetic Judge of sacred Wit, 
 
 Who do's i' th' Darkness of his Glory sit. 
 
 21
 
 MATTHEW PRIOR 
 
 Pag. 28. And as the Moon who first receives the light , 
 
 With which she makes these neither Regions bright ; 
 
 So does he shine, reflecting from a far, 
 
 The Rayes he borroiv'd from a better Star : 
 
 For rules which from Corneille and Rapin flow, 
 
 Admir'd by all the scribling Herd below. 
 
 From French Tradition while he does dispence, \ 
 
 Unerring Truths, 'tis Schism, a damn'd offence, I 
 
 To question his, or trust your private sense. ) 
 
 Hah ! Is not that right, Mr. "Johnson ? Gad forgive me he 
 is fast a sleep ! Oh the damn'd stupidity of this Age ! a sleep ! 
 Well, Sir, Since you're so drousy, your humble Servant. 
 
 "Johns. Nay, Pray Mr. Bayes, Faith I heard you all the 
 while. The white Mouse. 
 
 Bayes. The white Mouse ! ay, ay, I thought how you 
 heard me. Your Servant, Sir, your Servant. 
 
 John. Nay, Dear Bayes, Faith I beg thy Pardon, I was up 
 late last Night, Prithee lend me a little Snuff, and go on. 
 
 Bayes. Go on ! Pox I don't know where I was, well I'll 
 begin here ; mind, now they are both come to Town. 
 
 But now at Peccadille they arrive, 
 
 And talcing Coach, t'wards Temple-Bar they drive ; 
 
 But at St. Clement's Church, eat out the Back ; 
 
 And slipping through the Palsgrave, bilkt poor Hack. 
 
 There's the Utile, which ought to be in all Poetry, Many a 
 young Templer will save his shilling by this Stratagem of my 
 Mice. 
 
 Smith. Why, will any young Templer eat out the back of a 
 Coach ? 
 
 Bayes. No, I gad, but you'll grant it is mighty natural for 
 a Mouse. 
 
 Thence to the Devil, and ask'd if Chanticleer, 
 Pag. 133. Of Clergy kind, or Councellour Chough was there j 
 
 Or Mr. Dove, a Pigeon of Renown, 
 Pag. 126. By his high crop, and corny Gizzard known, 
 
 p»g. 130. Or Sister Partlet, with the Hooded head; 
 
 No, Sir. She's hooted hence, said JVill, and fled. 
 
 Why so? Because she would not pray a-Bed. 
 
 22
 
 HIND AND PANTHER TRANSVERSA 
 
 'John, aside. 'Sdeath ! Who can keep awake at such stuff? 
 Pray, Mr. Bayes, lend me your Box again. 
 
 Bayes. Mr. Johnson, How d'e like that Box ? Pray take 
 notice of it, 'twas given me by a person of Honour for looking 
 over a Paper of Verses ; and indeed I put in all the lines that 
 were worth any thing in the whole Poem. Well, but where 
 were we ? Oh! Here they are, just going up stairs into the 
 Apollo ; from whence my White takes occasion to talk very 
 well of Tradition. 
 
 Thus to the place where Johnson sat we climb, 
 
 Leaning on the same Rail that guided him ; 
 
 And whilst we thus on equal helps rely, 
 
 Our Wit must be as true, our thoughts as high. 
 
 For as an Author happily compares Pag. 45. 
 
 Tradition to a well-fixt pair of Stairs, 
 
 So this the Sea la Sancta we believe, 
 
 By which his Traditive Genius we receive. 
 
 Thus every step I take my Spirits soar, 
 
 And I grow more a Wit, and more, and more. 
 
 There's humour ! Is not that the liveliest Image in the 
 World of a Mouses going up a pair of Stairs. More a JVit, 
 and more and more ? 
 
 Smith. Mr. Bayes, I beg your Pardon heartily, I must be 
 rude, I have a particular Engagement at this time, and I see 
 you are not near an end yet. 
 
 Bayes. Godsokers ! Sure you won't serve me so : All my 
 finest Discriptions and best Discourse is yet to come. 
 
 Smith. Troth, Sir, if 'twere not an Extraordinary concern 
 I could not leave you. 
 
 Bayes. Well ; but you shall take a little more ; and here 
 I'll pass over two dainty Episodes of Sivallows, Swifts, Chickens, 
 and Buzzards. 
 
 Johns. I know not why they should come in, except to 
 make yours the longest Fable that ever was told. 
 
 Bayes. Why, the excellence of a Fable is in the length of 
 it. Msop indeed, like a Slave as he was, made little, short, 
 simple stories, with a dry Moral at the end of 'em ; and could 
 not form any noble design. But here I give you Fable upon 
 Fable; and after you are satisfied with Beasts in the first course, 
 
 2 3
 
 MATTHEW PRIOR 
 
 serve you up a delicate Dish of Fowl for the second ; now I was 
 at all this pains to abuse one particular person ; for I gad I'll 
 tell you what a trick he serv'd me. I was once translating a 
 VarUUu. very good French Author, but being something long about it, as 
 you know a Man is not always in the Humour ; What does 
 this Jack do, but put's out an Answer to my Friend before I had 
 half finished the Translation : so there was three whole Months 
 lost upon his Account. But I think I have my revenge on him 
 sufficiently, for I let all the World know, that he is a tall, 
 Pag. 137. broad-back d, lusty fellow, of a brown Complexion, fair Behaviour, 
 a Fluent Tongue, and taking amongst the JVomen ; and to top it 
 all, that he's much a Scholar, more a Wit, and owns but two 
 Sacraments. Don't you think this Fellow will hang himself? 
 But besides, I have so nickt his Character in a Name as will 
 make you split. I call him — I gad I won't tell you unless you 
 remember what I said of him. 
 
 Smith. Why that he was much a Scholar, and more a 
 Wit— 
 
 Bayes. Right ; and his name is Buzzard, ha ! ha ! ha ! 
 
 Johns. Very proper indeed, Sir. 
 
 Bayes. Nay, I have a farther fetch in it yet than perhaps 
 you imagine ; for his true name begins with a B, which makes 
 me slily contrive him this, to begin with the same Letter : 
 There's a pretty device, Mr. Johnson ; I learn'd it, I must 
 needs confess, from that ingenious sport, I love my Love with 
 an A, because she's Amiable ; and if you could but get a knot of 
 merry Fellows together, you should see how little Bayes would 
 top 'em all at it, I gad. 
 
 Smith. Well, but good Faith, Mr. Bayes, I must leave you, 
 I am half an hour past my time. 
 
 Bayes. Well, I've done, I've done. Here are eight hundred 
 Verses upon a rainy Night, and a Birds-Nest; and here's three 
 hundred more, Translated from two Paris Gazets, in which the 
 Spotted Mouse gives an account of the Treaty of Peace between 
 the Czars of Muscovy, and the Emperour, which is a piece of 
 News, White does not believe, and this is her Answer. I am 
 resolv'd you shall hear it, for in it I have taken occasion to 
 prove Oral Tradition better than Scripture. Now you must 
 know, 'tis sincerely my Opinion, that it had been better for the 
 World, if we nere had any Bibles at all. 
 
 24 

 
 HIND AND PANTHER TRANSVERSA 
 
 E're that Gazet was printed, said the IV hit c, P g 
 
 Our Robin told another story quite ; 
 
 This Oral Truth more safely I believ'd, 
 
 My Ears cannot, your Eyes may be deceiv'd. 
 
 By word of Mouth unerring Maxims flow, 
 
 And Preachings best, if understood, or no. 
 
 Words I confess bound by, and trip so light, p ag . 3 . 
 
 JVe have not time to take a steady sight; 
 
 Yet fleeting thus are plainer then when Writ, 
 
 To long Examination they submit. 
 
 Hard things — Mr. Smith, if these two lines don't recom- 
 pence your stay, ne'r trust John Bayes again. 
 
 Hard things at the first Blush are clear and full, 
 
 God mends on second thoughts, but Man grows dull. Pag. i 5 . 
 
 I gad I judge of all Men by my self, 'tis so with me, 
 I never strove to be very exadl in any thing but I spoil'd it. 
 
 Smith. But allowing your Character to be true, is it not a 
 little too severe ? 
 
 Bayes. 'Tis no matter for that, these general reflections 
 are daring, and savour most of a noble Genius, that spares neither 
 Friend nor Foe. 
 
 "John. Are you never afraid of a drubbing for that daring 
 of your noble Genius ? 
 
 Bayes. Afraid ! Why Lord you make so much of a beating, 
 I' gad 'tis no more to me than a Flea biting. No, No, if I can 
 but be witty upon 'em, let 'em en lay on, I Faith, I'll ne'r 
 baulk my fancy to save my Carkass. Well, but we must 
 dispatch, Mr. Smith. 
 
 Thus did they merrily carouse all day, | 
 
 And, like the gaudy fly, their Wings display ; I 
 
 And sip the sweets, and bask in great Apollo'* ray. 
 
 Well there's an end of the Entertainment ; and Mr. Smith, 
 if your affairs would have permitted, you would have heard the 
 best Bill of Fare that ever was serv'd up in Heroicks : but here 
 follows a dispute shall recommend it self, I'll say nothing for it. 
 For Dapple, who you must know was a Protestant, all this 
 while, trusts her own Judgment, and foolishly dislikes the 
 Wine ; upon which our Innocent does so run her down, that 
 
 25
 
 MATTHEW PRIOR 
 
 she has not one word to say for her self, but what I put in her 
 Mouth ; and I gad, you may imagine they won't be very good 
 ones, for she has disoblig'd me, like an Ingrate. 
 
 Sirrah, says Brindle, Thou hast brought us Wine, 
 Sour to my tast, and to my Eyes unfine. 
 Says Will) all Gentlemen like it ; ah ! says White, 
 What is approv'd by them, must needs be right. 
 Pag. 38. 'Tis true, I thought it bad, but if the House 
 
 Commend it, I submit, a private Mouse. 
 
 Mind that, mind the Decorum, and Deference, which our 
 Mouse pays to the Company. 
 
 Nor to their Catholic consent oppose 
 
 My erring Judgment, and reforming Nose. 
 
 Ah ! ah ! there she has nick't her, that's up to the Hilts, 
 I gad, and you shall see Dapple resents it. 
 
 Why, what a Devil, shan't I trust my Eyes ? 
 Must I drink Stum because the Rascal lyes ? 
 And palms upon us Catholic consent, 
 To give sophisticated Brewings vent. 
 Pag. 5. Says White, What ancient Evidence can sway, 
 
 If you must Argue thus and not obey? 
 Drawers must be trusted, through whose hands convey'd, 
 You take the Liquor, or you spoil the Trade. 
 For sure those Honest Fellows have no knack, 
 Of putting off stum\l Claret for Pontack. 
 How long, alas ! would the poor Vintner last, ) 
 
 If all that drink must judge, and every Guest \ 
 
 Be allowed to have an understanding Tast ? 
 Thus she : Nor could the Panther well inlarge, 
 With weak defence, against so strong a Charge. 
 
 There I call her a Panther, because she's spotted, which is 
 such a blot to the Reformation, as I warrant 'em they will 
 never claw off, I Gad. 
 
 But with a weary Yawn that shew'd her pride, 
 Said, Spotless was a Villain, and she lyed. 
 
 26
 
 HIND AND PANTHER TRANSVERSA 
 
 White saw her canker 7/ Malice at that word, 
 And said her Prayers, and drew her Delphic Sword. 
 T'other cry'd Murther, and her Rage restrain d: 
 And thus her passive Char after maintain d. 
 But now alas 
 
 Mr. fohnson, pray mind me this ; Mr. Smith, I'll ask you 
 to stay no longer, for this that follows is so engaging ; hear me 
 but two Lines, I Gad, and go away afterwards if you can. 
 
 But now, alas, I grieve, I grieve to tell 
 What sad mischance these pretty things befel 
 These Birds of Beasts 
 
 There's a tender Expression, Birds of Beasts : 'tis the 
 greatest Affront that you can put upon any Bird, to call it, 
 Beast of a Bird : and a Beast is so fond of being call'd a Pag. 129. 
 Bird, as you can't imagine. 
 
 These Birds of Beasts, these learned Reas'ning Mice, 
 
 Were separated, banish'd in a trice. 
 
 Who would be learned for their sakes, who wise ? 
 
 Ay, who indeed ? There's a Pathos, I Gad, Gentlemen, if 
 that won't move you, nothing will, I can assure you : But 
 here's the sad thing I was afraid of. 
 
 The Constable alarm'd by this noise, 
 
 Enter'd the Room, directed by the voice, 
 
 And speaking to the Watch, with head aside, Pag. 135. 
 
 Said, Desperate Cures must be to desperate Ills appl-fd. 
 
 These Gentlemen, for so their Fate decrees, 
 
 Can n'ere enjoy at once the But and Peace. p ag . n 5 . 
 
 JVhen each have separate Interests of their ozvn, p ag . M4 . 
 
 Two Mice are one too many for a Town. 
 
 By Schism they are torn ; and therefore, Brother, 
 
 Look you to one, and I'll secure the t'other. 
 
 Now whither Dapple did to Bridewell go, ] 
 
 Or in the Stocks all night her Fingers blow, I Pag. 98. 
 
 Or in the Compter lay, concerns not us to know. ) 
 
 But the immortal Matron, spotless White, \ 
 
 Forgetting Dapple's Rudeness, Malice, Spight, '. 
 
 Look'd kindly back, and wept, and said, Good Night. ) 
 
 27
 
 MATTHEW PRIOR 
 
 Pag. 145. Ten thousand JVatchmen waited on this Mouse, 
 
 With Bills, and Halberds, to her Country-House. 
 
 This last Contrivance I had from a judicious Author, that 
 makes Ten thousand Angels wait upon his Hind^ and she asleep 
 too, I Gad. — 
 
 "John. Come, let's see what we have to pay. 
 
 Bayes. What a Pox, are you in such hast ? You han't 
 told me how you like it. 
 
 "John. Oh, extreamly well. Here, Drawer. 
 
 FINIS. 
 
 28
 
 A 
 
 SUPPLEMENT 
 
 TO 
 
 Mr. Prior's POEMS. 
 
 Consisting 
 
 Of such Pieces as are Omitted in the late Col- 
 lection of his Works, and Others, now first 
 Published, from his Original Manuscripts, 
 in the Custody of his Friends. 
 
 Vain Monuments may Gild Precarious Fame, 
 A Prior bears a Statue in his Name. 
 
 Beckingham. 
 
 LONDON: 
 
 Printed for E. Curll, at the Dial and Bible, over-against 
 Cathenne-Strc-t in the Strand. MDCCXXII. 
 
 (Price is. 6d.)
 
 To the Right Honourable the 
 
 Countess Dowager of DEVONSHIRE, 
 
 ON A 
 
 Piece of Wissin's; 
 Whereon were all her Grandsons Painted. 
 
 By Mr. PRIOR. 
 
 WISSIN and Nature held a long Contest, 
 If She Created, or He Painted best ; 
 With pleasing Thought the wond'rous Combat grew, 
 She still form'd Fairer, He still Liker drew. 
 In these Seven Brethren, they contended last, 
 
 With Art increas'd their utmost Skill they try'd, 
 And Both well pleas'd, they had Themselves, surpass'd, 
 
 The Goddess Triumpb'd, and the Painter Dyd. 
 That Both, their Skill to this vast Height did raise, 
 Be ours the Wonder, and be yours the Praise : 
 For here as in some Glass is well discry'd, 
 Only your self thus often multiply'd. 
 
 When Heaven had You and Gracious Anna* made, 
 What more exalted Beauty could it add ? 
 Having no nobler Images in Store, 
 It but kept up to these, nor could do more 
 Than Copy well, what it well fram'd before. 
 If in dear Burleigh's generous Face we see 
 Obliging Truth, and Handsom Honesty; 
 With all that World of Charms, which soon will move 
 Reverence in Men, and in the Fair-Ones love: 
 His every Grace, his fair Descent assures, 
 He has his Mother's Beauty, She has yours. 
 
 * Eldest Daughter of the Countess. 
 
 3 1
 
 MATTHEW PRIOR 
 
 If ever CecilFs Face had every Charm 
 
 That Thought can Fancy, or that Heaven can Form; 
 
 Their Beauties all become your Beauty's Due, 
 
 They are all Fair, because they're all like You : 
 
 If every Candisb great and charming Look, 
 
 From You that Air, from You the Charms they took. 
 
 In their each Limb your Image is exprest, 
 
 But on their Brow firm Courage stands confest; 
 
 There, their great Father by a strong Increase, 
 
 Adds Strength to Beauty, and compleats the Piece. 
 
 Thus still your Beauty in your Sons we view, 
 
 Whiin Seven-Times one great Perfection drew, 
 
 Whoever sate, the Picture still is You. 
 
 So when the Parent Sun with genial Beams, 
 
 Has Animated many goodly Gems; 
 
 He sees himself improv'd, while every Stone, 
 
 With a resembling Light, reflects a Sun. 
 
 So when great Rhea many Births had given, 
 
 Such as might govern Earth, and People Heaven ; 
 
 Her Glory grew diffus'd, and fuller known, 
 
 She saw the Deity in every Son : 
 
 And to what God soe'er Men Altars rais'd, 
 
 Honouring the Off-spring, they the Mother prais'd. 
 
 In short-liv'd Charms let others place their Joys 
 
 Which Sickness blasts, and certain Age destroys : 
 
 Your stronger Beauty, Time can ne'er deface, 
 
 'Tis still renew'd, and stamp'd in all your Race. 
 
 Ah ! IVissin^ had thy Art been so refin'd, 
 
 As with their Beauty to have drawn their Mind, 
 
 Thro' circling Years thy Labours would survive, \ 
 
 And living Rules to fairest Virtue give 
 
 To Men unborn, and Ages yet to live ; j 
 
 'Twould still be wonderful, and still be new, 
 
 Against what Time, or Spight, or Fate could do, 
 
 'Till Thine confus'd with Nature's Pieces lie, 
 
 And Cavendish's Name, and CeciWs Honour Die. 
 
 32
 
 A SUPPLEMENT, ETC. 
 
 Tbe Female PHAETON. 
 I. 
 
 THUS Kitty*, Beautiful and Young, 
 And wild as Colt untam'd ; 
 Bespoke the Fair from whom she sprung, 
 With little Rage inflam'd. 
 
 II. 
 
 Inflam'd with Rage at sad Restraint, 
 
 Which wise Mamma ordain'd ; 
 And sorely vex'd to play the Saint, 
 
 Whilst Wit and Beauty reign'd. 
 
 III. 
 
 Shall I thumb Holy Books, confin'd 
 
 With Abigails forsaken ? 
 Kitty's for other Things design'd, 
 
 Or I am much mistaken. 
 
 IV. 
 
 Must Lady jfenny frisk about, 
 
 And Visit with her Cozens ? 
 At Balls must She make all the Rout, 
 
 And bring Home Hearts by Dozens ? 
 
 V. 
 
 What has she Better, pray, than I ? 
 
 What hidden Charms to boast, 
 That all Mankind for her should Die, 
 
 Whilst I am scarce a Toast ? 
 
 VI. 
 
 Dearest Mamma, for once let mc, 
 
 Unchain'd, my Fortune try ; 
 I'll have my Earl, as well as She, 
 
 Or know the Reason why. 
 
 * Lady Katiif.kine Hyde: To whom, this, and the following Copy 
 was sent, by the late Honourable Simon Harcourt, Esq; 
 
 p. "• c 33
 
 MATTHEW PRIOR 
 VII. 
 
 I'll soon with Jennys Pride quit score, 
 
 Make all her Lovers fall ; 
 They'll grieve I was not loos'd before, 
 
 She, I was loos'd at all. 
 
 VIII. 
 
 Fondness prevail'd, Mamma gave way ; 
 
 Kitty at Heart's Desire, 
 Obtain'd the Chariot for a Day, 
 
 And set the World on Fire. 
 
 The Judgment of VENUS. 
 
 I. 
 
 WHEN Kneller's Works of various Grace, 
 Were to fair Venus shown, 
 The Goddess spy'd in every Face 
 Some Features of Her own. 
 
 II. 
 
 Just so, (and pointing with her Hand)* 
 
 So shone, says she, my Eyes, 
 When from Two Goddesses I gain'd 
 
 An Apple for a Prize. 
 
 III. 
 
 When in the Glass and River too, 
 
 My Face I lately view'd, 
 Such was I, if the Glass be true, 
 
 If true the Chrystal Flood. 
 
 IV. 
 
 In Colours of this glorious kindf 
 
 Apelles painted me ; 
 My Hair thus flowing with the Wind, 
 
 Sprung from my Native Sea. 
 
 * To the Picture of Lady RANELAUGH. 
 + Picture of the Lady SALISBURY. 
 
 34
 
 A SUPPLEMENT, ETC. 
 
 v. 
 
 Like this, disorder'd, wild, forlorn*, 
 
 Big with Ten Thousand Fears, 
 Thee, my Adonis, did I mourn, 
 
 Ev'n Beautiful in Tears. 
 
 VI. 
 
 But viewing Myra plac'd apart, 
 
 I fear, says she, I fear 
 Apelles, that Sir Godfrey's Art 
 
 Has far surpass'd Thine here. 
 
 VII. 
 
 Or I, a Goddess of the Skies, 
 
 By Myra am outdone, 
 And must resign to her the Prize, 
 
 The Apple, which I won. 
 
 VIII. 
 
 But soon as she had Myra seen 
 
 Majestically Fair, 
 The sparkling Eye, the Look serene, 
 
 The gay and easy Air. 
 
 [IX.] 
 
 With Fiery Emulation fill'd, 
 
 The wond'ring Goddess cry'd, 
 Apelles, must to Kneller yield, 
 
 Or Venus, must to HYDE. 
 
 * Lady Jane Douglas, Sister to the Duke of Douglas. 
 
 c2 35
 
 MATTHEW PRIOR 
 
 SONG 
 
 To his Mistress. 
 I. 
 
 WHILST I am scorch'd with hot Desire, 
 In vain, cold Friendship you return ; 
 Your Drops of Pity on my Fire, 
 Alas ! but make it fiercer burn. 
 
 II. 
 
 Ah ! wou'd you have the Flame supprest 
 That kills the Heart it heals too fast, 
 
 Take half my Passion to your Breast, 
 The rest in Mine shall ever last. 
 
 AN 
 
 ODE, 
 
 In Imitation of the Second Ode of the 
 Third Book of Horace. 
 
 Written in the Year 1692. 
 
 HOW long, deluded Jlbion, wilt thou lie* 
 In the Lethargic Sleep, the sad Repose, 
 By which thy close thy constant Enemy, 
 Has softly lull'd Thee to Thy Woes ; 
 
 Angustam, amici, Pauperiem pati 
 Robustus acri Militia Piter 
 
 Condiscat, & Parthos feroces 
 
 Vexet eques metuendus bastd. 
 
 36
 
 A SUPPLEMENT, ETC. 
 
 Or Wake degenerate Isle, or cease to own 
 
 What thy old Kings in Gallic Camps have done; 
 
 The Spoils They brought Thee back, the Crowns They won. 
 
 William, (so Fate requires) again is Arm'd ; 
 
 Thy Father to the Field is gone : 
 Again Maria Weeps Her absent Lord ; 
 For thy Repose content to rule alone. 
 Are Thy Enervare Sons not yet Alarm 'd ? 
 When William Fights dare they look tamely on, 
 So slow to get their Ancient Fame restor'd, 
 As nor to melt at Beauties Tears, nor follow Valour's Sword ? 
 
 II. 
 
 See the Repenting Isle Awakes, 
 Her Vicious Chains the generous Goddess breaks : 
 The Fogs around Her Temples are Dispell'd ; 
 Abroad She Looks, and Sees Arm'd Belgia stand 
 Prepar'd to meet their common Lords Command ; 
 Her Lions Roaring by Her Side, Her Arrows in Her Hand ; 
 And Blushing to have been so long withheld, 
 Weeps off her Crime, and hastens to the Field : 
 *Hen[ce]forth her Youth shall be inur'd to bear 
 
 Hazardous Toil and Active War : 
 To march beneath the Dog-Star's raging Heat, 
 Patient of Summer's Drought, and Martial Sweat ; 
 And only Grieve in Winter's Camps to find, 
 Its Days too short for Labours They design'd : 
 All Night beneath hard heavy Arms to Watch ; 
 All Day to Mount the Trench, to Storm the Breach ; 
 And all the rugged Paths to tread, 
 
 Where William and His Virtue lead. 
 
 III. 
 j- Silence is the Soul of War; 
 
 Deliberate Counsel must prepare 
 The Mighty Work which Valour must compleat : 
 Thus William Rescu'd, thus Preserves the State ; 
 
 * Vttamque sub Dio & trepidis agat 
 
 In rebus. 
 •f Est <&>' fideli tuta silentio 
 
 Mtrces, <&*c. 
 
 37
 
 MATTHEW PRIOR 
 
 Thus Teaches Us to Think and Dare ; 
 
 As whilst his Cannon just prepar'd to Breathe 
 
 Avenging Anger and Swift Death, 
 In the try'd Metal the close Dangers glow, 
 
 And now too late the Dying Foe 
 Perceives the Flame, yet cannot ward the Blow ; 
 So whilst in William's Breast ripe Counsels lie, 
 Secret and sure as Brooding Fate, 
 No more of His Design appears 
 Than what Awakens Gallia 's Fears ; 
 And (tho' Guilt's Eye can sharply penetrate) 
 
 Distracted Lewis can descry 
 Only a long unmeasur'd Ruin nigh. 
 
 IV. 
 
 On Norman Coasts and Banks of frighted Seine, 
 Lo ! the Impending Storms begin : 
 Britannia safely thro' her Master's Sea 
 Plows up her Vi£torious Way. 
 
 The French Salmoneus throws his Bolts in vain, 
 Whilst the true Thunderer asserts the Main : 
 'Tis done ! to Shelves and Rocks his Fleets retire, 
 
 Swift Victory in vengeful Flames 
 Burns down the Pride of their Presumptuous Names. 
 They run to Shipwreck to avoid our Fire, 
 And the torn Vessels that regain their Coast 
 Are but sad Marks to shew the rest are lost : 
 All this the Mild, the Beauteous Queen has done, 
 And William's softer Half shakes Lewis' Throne : 
 
 Maria does the Sea command, 
 Whilst Gallia flies her Husbands Arms by Land, 
 So, the Sun absent, with full sway the Moon 
 Governs the Isles, and rules the Waves alone ; 
 So Juno thunders when her Jove is gone. 
 Is Britannia ! loose thy Ocean's Chains, 
 Whilst Russel strikes the Blow Thy Queen ordains : 
 Thus Rescu'd, thus Rever'd, for ever stand, 
 And Bless the Counsel, and Reward the Hand, 
 Is Britannia ! thy Maria Reigns. 
 
 38
 
 A SUPPLEMENT, ETC. 
 
 *From Mary's Conquests, and the Rescu'd Main, 
 Let France look forth to Sambre's armed Shore, 
 And boast her Joy for William's Death no more. 
 He lives ; let France confess, the Victor lives : 
 Her Triumphs for his Death were vain, 
 And spoke her Terror of his Life too plain. 
 The mighty Years begin, the Day draws nigh, 
 In which That One of Lewis' many Wives, 
 Who by the baleful force of guilty Charms, 
 Has long enthrall'd Him in Her wither'd Arms, 
 Shall o'er the Plains from distant Tow'rs on high 
 
 Cast around her mournful Eye, 
 And with Prophetick Sorrow cry : 
 Why does my ruin'd Lord retard his Flight ? 
 Why does despair provoke his Age to fight ? 
 As well the Wolf may venture to engage 
 The angry Lyon's gen'rous Rage ; 
 The rav'nous Vultur, and the Bird of Night, 
 As safely tempt the stooping Eagle's flight, 
 As Lewis to unequal Arms defy 
 Yon' Hero, crown'd with blooming Viclory, 
 Just triumphing o'er Rebel rage restrain'd, 
 
 And yet unbreath'd from Battles gain'd. 
 See ! all yon' dusty Fields quite cover'd o're 
 With Hostil Troops, and Orange at their Head, 
 
 Orange destin'd to compleat 
 
 The great Designs of lab'ring Fate, 
 
 Orange, the Name that Tyrants dread : 
 He comes, our ruin'd Empire is no more : 
 Down, like the Persian, goes the Gallick Throne, 
 Darius flies, young Amnion urges on. 
 
 Ilium ex nu-nibus bosticis 
 
 Matrona bellantis 'Tyranni 
 Prospic/euj, &' adulta -virgo 
 
 Suspiret, ebeu! tie rudis agminum 
 Sponsus lacessat regius asperam 
 Tit.iu leonem quern cruenta 
 Per medias rapit ira Cades. 
 
 39
 
 MATTHEW PRIOR 
 VI. 
 
 Now from the dubious Battel's mingl'd Heat, 
 
 Let Fear look back, and stretch her hasty Wing*, 
 
 Impatient to secure a base Retreat : 
 
 Let the pale Coward leave his wounded King, 
 
 For the vile privilege to breathe, 
 To live with shame in dread of glorious Death. 
 In vain : for Fate has swifter Wings than Fear, 
 She follows hard, and strikes Him in the Rear, 
 Dying and Mad the Traytor bites the Ground, 
 His Back transfix'd with a dishonest Wound ; 
 Whilst thro' the fiercest Troops, and thickest Press 
 
 Virtue carries on Success ; 
 Whilst equal Heav'n guards the distinguish Brave, 
 And Armies cannot hurt, whom Angels save. 
 
 VII. 
 
 Virtue to Verse immortal Lustre givesf, 
 Each by the other's mutual Friendship lives : 
 /Eneas suffer'd, and Achilles fought, 
 The Hero's Ads enlarg'd the Poet's Thought, 
 Or Virgil's Majesty, and Homers Rage, 
 
 Had ne'er like lasting Nature vanquish'd Age : 
 Whilst Lewis then his "rising Terror drowns 
 
 With Drum's Alarms, and Trumpet's Sounds, 
 Whilst hid in arm'd Retreats and guarded Towns, 
 
 From Danger as from Honour far, 
 He bribes close Murder against open War : 
 
 In vain you Gallic Muses strive 
 With labour'd Verse to keep his Fame alive ; 
 Your mould'ring Monuments in vain ye raise 
 On the weak Basis of the Tyrant's Praise : 
 
 * Duke <& decorum est pro patrid mori, 
 
 Mors <&>' fugacem prosequitur Virum 
 
 Nee parcit imbellis Jwuenta 
 
 Poplitibus timidoque tergo. 
 + . Virtus repulse nescia sordidie 
 
 Intaminatis fulget honoribus 
 
 Nee ponit out sumit secures 
 
 Arbitrio popularis aura. 
 
 4
 
 A SUPPLEMENT, ETC. 
 
 Your Songs are sold, your Numbers are Prophane, 
 
 'Tis Incense to an Idol giv'n, 
 
 Meat ofYer'd to Prometheus Man, 
 
 That had no Soul from Heav'n. 
 Against his Will you chain your frighted King 
 
 On rapid Rhine's divided Bed 5 
 
 And mock your Hero, whilst ye Sing 
 
 The Wounds for which he never bled ; 
 Falshood does Poyson on your Praise diffuse, 
 And Lewis'' Fear gives Death to Boileaus Muse. 
 
 VIII. 
 
 On its own Worth True Majesty is rear'd, 
 
 And Virtue is her own Reward, 
 
 With solid Beams and Native Glory bright, 
 
 She neither Darkness dreads, nor covets Light ; 
 
 True to Her self, and fix'd to inborn Laws, 
 
 Nor sunk by Spite, nor lifted by Applause, 
 
 She from her settl'd Orb looks calmly down, 
 
 On Life or Death a Prison or a Crown. 
 
 When bound in double Chains poor Belgia lay, 
 
 To foreign Arms, and inward Strife a Prey, 
 
 Whilst One Good Man buoy'd up Her sinking State, 
 
 And Virtue labour'd against Fate ; 
 When Fortune basely with Ambition join'd, 
 And all was conquer'd but the Patriot's Mind ; 
 When Storms let loose, and raging Seas 
 Just ready the torn Vessel to o'erwhelm, 
 Forc'd not the faithful Pilot from his Helm ; 
 Nor all the Syren Songs of future Peace, 
 And dazling Prospect of a promis'd Crown, 
 
 Cou'd lure his stubborn Virtue down ; 
 But against Charms, and Threats, and Hell, He stood, 
 
 To that which was severely good ; 
 Then, had no Trophies justify 'd his Fame, 
 No Poet bless'd his Song with Nassau's Name, 
 Virtue alone did all that Honour bring, 
 And Heav'n as plainly pointed out the King, 
 
 As when he at the Altar stood, 
 
 In all his Types and Robes of Powr, 
 
 4i
 
 MATTHEW PRIOR 
 
 Whilst at his Feet Religious Britain bow'd, 
 And own'd him next to what we there Adore. 
 
 IX. 
 
 Say, Joyful Mae%e, and Boynes Victorious Flood, 
 (For each has mixt his Waves with Royal Blood) 
 When William's Armies past, did He retire, 
 Or view from far the Battel's distant Fire ? 
 Could He believe His Person was too dear ? 
 Or use His Greatness to conceal his Fear ? 
 Could Pray'rs and Sighs the dauntless Hero move ? 
 Arm'd with Heav'ns Justice and His People's Love, 
 Thro' the first Waves He wing'd his vent'rous Way 
 
 And on the Adverse Shore arose, 
 (Ten thousand flying Deaths in vain oppose) 
 Like the great Ruler of the Day, 
 
 With Strength and Swiftness mounting from the Seas : 
 Like Him, all Day He Toil'd ; but long in Night 
 
 The God had eas'd His weary'd Light, 
 
 E're Vengeance left the stubborn Foes, 
 
 Or William's Labours found Repose, 
 When His Troops falter'd, stept not He between ; 
 
 Restor'd the dubious Fight again, 
 
 Mark'd out the Coward that du[r]st fly, 
 And led the fainting Brave to Victory ? 
 Still as She fled Him, did He not o'ertake 
 Her doubtful Course, still brought Her bleeding back ? 
 By His keen Sword did not the Boldest fall ? 
 
 Was He not King, Commander, Soldier, All ? 
 
 His Danger's such, as, with becoming Dread, 
 His Subjects yet unborn shall Weep to Read, 
 And were not those the only Days that e'er 
 
 The Pious Prince refus'd to hear 
 His Friends Advices, or His Subjects Pray'r. 
 
 X. 
 
 Where-e'er old Rhine his fruitful Water turns, 
 Or fills his Vassals Tributary Urns ; 
 To Belgian sav'd Dominions, and the Sea, 
 Whose righted Waves rejoice in William's Sway, 
 
 42
 
 A SUPPLEMENT, ETC. 
 
 Is there a Town where Children are not Taught, 
 ' Here Holland Prosper'd, for here Orange Fought, 
 'Thro' rapid Waters, and thro' flying Fire: 
 ' Here rush'd the Prince, here made whole France retire. - 
 By different Nations be this Valour blest, 
 
 In diff'rent Languages confest, 
 
 And then let Shannon speak the rest : 
 Let Shannon speak, how on her wond'ring Shore, 
 When Conquest hov'ring on his Arms did wait, 
 And only as'kd some Lives to bribe her o'er. 
 The God-like Man, the more than Conqueror, 
 With high Contempt sent back the specious Bait, 
 And scorning Glory at a Price too great, 
 With so much Pow'r such Piety did join, 
 As made a Perfect Virtue soar 
 
 A Pitch unknown to Man before, 
 And lifted Shannon § Waves o'er those of Boyne. 
 
 XI. 
 
 Nor do his Subjects only share 
 The Prosp'rous Fruits of his Indulgent Reign ; 
 His Enemies approve the Pious War, 
 Which, with their Weapon, takes away their Chain : 
 More than his Sword, His goodness strikes his Foes, 
 They Bless his Arms, and Sigh they must oppose. 
 Justice and Freedom on his Conquests wait, 
 And 'tis for Man's Delight that He is Great : 
 Succeeding Times shall with long Joy contend, 
 If He were more a Victor, or a Friend : 
 So much his Courage and his Mercy strive ; 
 He Wounds, to Cure ; and Conquers, to Forgive. 
 
 XII. 
 
 Ye Heroes, that have Fought your Country's Cause, 
 Redress'd Her Injuries, or Form'd Her Laws, 
 To my Advent'rous Song just Witness bear, 
 Assist the Pious Muse, and hear her Swear, 
 That 'tis no Poet's Thought, no flight of Youth, 
 But solid Story, and severest Truth, 
 
 43
 
 MATTHEW PRIOR 
 
 That William Treasures up a greater Name, 
 Than any Country, any Age can Boast : 
 
 *And all that Ancient Stock of Fame 
 
 He did from His Fore-Fathers take, 
 He has improv'd, and gives with Int'rest back ; 
 And in His Constellation does unite 
 Their scatter'd Rays of Fainter Light : 
 Above or Envy's Lash, or Fortune's Wheel, 
 
 That settl'd Glory shall for ever dwell, 
 Above the Roling Orbs and common Sky, 
 
 Where nothing comes that e're shall Die. 
 
 XIII. 
 
 Where roves the Muse ? Where, thoughtless to return, 
 
 Is her short-liv'd Vessel born, 
 By Potent Winds too subject to be tost ? 
 And in the Sea of William's Praises lost ? 
 Nor let Her tempt that Deep, nor make the Shore, 
 
 Where our abandon'd Youth She sees 
 Shipwreck'd in Luxury, and lost in Ease ; 
 Whom nor Britannia?, Danger can alarm, 
 
 Nor William's Exemplary Virtue warm : 
 Tell 'em howe're, the King can yet Forgive 
 Their guilty Sloth, their Homage yet Receive, 
 
 And let their wounded Honour live : 
 But sure and sudden be their just Remorse ; 
 Swift be their Virtue's Rise, and strong its Course ; 
 -f-For tho' for certain Years, and destin'd Times, 
 
 Merit has lain confus'd with Crimes ; 
 Tho' Jove seem'd Negligent of Human Cares, 
 Nor scourg'd our Follies, nor return'd our Pray'rs j 
 
 * Virtus recludens immeritis Mori 
 
 Co- turn, negatd tent at iter -via 
 Ccetujque 1'iilgares <& udam 
 Spernit busman fugiente penna, 
 
 -Sape Diespiter 
 
 NegleStus incesto addidit Integrum 
 
 Raro antecedentem Scelestum 
 
 Deseruit pede Pana Claudo. 
 
 44
 
 A SUPPLEMENT, ETC. 
 
 His Justice now Demands the Equal Scales, 
 Sedition is suppress'd, and Truth Prevails : 
 Fate its Great Ends by slow Degrees Attains, 
 And Europe is redeem'd, and William Reigns. 
 
 AN 
 
 EPISTLE 
 
 TO 
 
 Sir Fleetwood Sheppard. 
 
 WHEN Crowding Folks, with strange 111 Faces, 
 Were making Legs, and begging Places, 
 And some with Patents, some with Merit, 
 Tir'd out my good Lord Dorset's Spirit : 
 Sneaking, I stood, among the Crew, 
 Desiring much to speak with you. 
 I waited while the Clock struck thrice, 
 And Footman brought out fifty Lies ; 
 Till Patience vext, and Legs grown weary, 
 I thought it was in vain to tarry : 
 But did opine it might be better, 
 By Penny-post to send a Letter. 
 Now, if you miss of this Epistle, 
 I'm balk'd again, and may go whistle. 
 My Business, Sir, you'll quickly guess, 
 Is to desire some little Place, 
 And fair pretensions I have for't, 
 Much Need, and very small Desert. 
 When e'er I writ to you, I wanted ; 
 I always begg'd, you always granted, 
 Now, as you took me up when little, 
 Gave me my Learning, and my Vittle : 
 Askt for me, from my Lord, things fitting 
 Kind as I'd been your own begetting; 
 
 45
 
 MATTHEW PRIOR 
 
 Confirm what formerly you've given, j 
 
 Nor leave me now at Six and Sevens r 
 
 As Sunderland has left Mun. Stephens. J 
 
 No Family that takes a Whelp, 
 When first he laps and scarce can yelp, 
 Neglefts or turns him out of Gate, 
 When he's grown up to Dogs Estate : 
 Nor Parish if they once adopt 
 The spurious Brats that Strowlers dropt, 
 Leave 'em when grown up Lusty Fellows, 
 To the wide World, that is, the Gallows : 
 No thank 'em for their Love, that's worse, 
 Than if they'd throttl'd 'em at Nurse, 
 My Uncle, rest his Soul, when Living, 
 
 Might have contriv'd me ways of Thriving ; 
 
 Taught me with Cyder to replenish 
 
 My Vats or ebbing Tide of Rhenish. 
 
 So when for Hock" I drew Prickt White-wine, 
 
 Swear't had the flavour, and was right Wine : 
 
 Or sent me with ten Pounds to Furnl- 
 
 Vall\ Inn, to some good Rogue-Attorney ; 
 
 Where now by forging Deeds and cheating, 
 
 I'd found some handsome ways of getting. 
 
 All this you made me quit to follow 
 
 That sneaking Whey-fac'd God Apollo. 
 
 Sent me among a Fidling Crew j 
 
 Of Folks, I'ad never seen nor knew, 
 
 Calliope, and God knows who. 
 
 To add no more Invedtives to it, 
 
 You spoil'd the Youth to make a Poet. 
 
 In common Justice, Sir, there's no Man 
 
 That makes the Whore but keeps the Woman. 
 
 Among all honest Christian People 
 
 Whoe'er breaks Limbs, maintains the Cripple. 
 
 The sum of all I have to say, 
 Is, that you'd put me in some way, 
 And your Petitioner shall pray 
 
 There's one thing more I had almost slipt, 
 But they may do as well in Post-script ; 
 
 46 
 
 I
 
 A SUPPLEMENT, ETC. 
 
 My Friend Charles Mountague's preferred, 
 
 Nor would I have it long observ'd, 
 
 That one Mouse eats while t'other's starv'd. 
 
 A 
 
 SATIRE 
 
 ON THE 
 
 Modern Translators. 
 
 Odi imita tores servum pecus, &c. 
 
 SINCE the united Cunning of the Stage 
 Has ballc'd the hireling Drudges of the Age : 
 Since Betterton of late so thrifty's grown, 
 Revives old Plays, or wisely acts his own : 
 Thumb'd Rider with a Catalogue of Rhimes, 
 Makes the compleatest Poet of our Times : 
 Those who with Nine Months Toil had spoil'd a Play, 
 In hopes of Eating at a full Third Day, 
 Justly despairing longer to sustain 
 A craving Stomach from an empty Brain, 
 Have left Stage-practice, chang'd their old Vocations, 
 Attoning for bad Plays, with worse Translations ; 
 And like old Stembold, with laborious Spite, 
 Burlesque what nobler Muses better write ; 
 Thus while they for their Causes only seem 
 To change the Channel, they corrupt the Stream. 
 So breaking Vintners to increase their Wine, 
 With nauseous Drugs debauch the generous Vine 
 So barren Gypsies for recruit are said 
 With Strangers Issue to maintain the Trade ; 
 
 47
 
 MATTHEW PRIOR 
 
 But lest the fairer Bantling should be known, 
 A daubing Walnut makes him all their own. 
 
 In the Head of this Gang to John Dryden appears, 
 But to save the Town-censure, and lessen his Fears, 
 Join'd with a Spark, whose Title makes me civil, 
 For Scandalutn Magnatum is the Devil ; 
 Such mighty Thoughts from Ovid\ Letters flow, 
 That the Translation is a work for two ; 
 Who in one Copy join'd, their Shame have shown, 
 Since Tate could spoil so many, tho' alone : 
 My Lord I thought so generous would prove, 
 To scorn a Rival in Affairs of Love : 
 But well he knew his teeming Pangs were vain, 
 Till Midwife Dryden eas'd his labouring Brain ; 
 And that when part of Hudibras's Horse 
 Jogg'd on, the other would not hang an Arse ; 
 So when fleet Jowler hears the joyful Hollow, 
 He drags his sluggish Mate, and Tray must follow. 
 But how could this learn'd Brace employ their time? 
 One constru'd sure, while t'other pump'd for Rhime : 
 Or it with these, as once at Rome, succeeds, 
 The Bibulus subscribes to Caesar's Deeds : 
 This from his Partners Acts ensures his Name, 
 Oh Sacred Thirst of everlasting Fame ! 
 That could defile those well-cut Nails with Ink, 
 And make his Honour condescend to think : 
 But what Excuse, what Preface can attone 
 For Crimes which guilty Bayes has singly done ? 
 Bayes, whose Rose-Ally Ambuscade injoin'd 
 To be to Vices which he pracl:is'd kind, 
 And brought the Venom of a spiteful Satire, 
 To the safe Innocence of a dull Translator. 
 Bayes, who by all the Club was thought most fit 
 To violate the Mantuan Prophet 1 ?, Wit, 
 And more debauch what loose Lucretius writ. 
 When I behold the Rovings of his Muse, 
 How soon Assyrian Ointment she would lose 
 For Diamond Buckles sparkling at their Shoes. 
 
 48
 
 A SUPPLEMENT, ETC. 
 
 When VirgiPs height is lost, when Ovid soars, ] 
 
 And in Heroicks Canace deplores L 
 
 Her Follies louder than her Father roars, 
 
 I'd let him take Almanzor for his Theme ; ] 
 
 In lofty Verse make Maximin blaspheme, L 
 
 Or sing in softer Airs St. Catharines Dream. 
 
 Nay, I could hear him damn last Ages Wit, 
 
 And rail at Excellence he ne'er could hit ; 
 
 His envy should at powerful Cowley rage, 
 
 And banish Sense with 'Johnson from the Stage : 
 
 His Sacrelege should plunder Shakespears Urn, 
 
 With a dull Prologue make the Ghost return, 
 
 To bear a second Death, and greater Pain, 
 
 While the Fiend's Words the Oracle prophane. 
 
 But when not satisfy'd with Spoils at home, 
 
 The Pyrate would to foreign Borders roam ; 
 
 May he still split on some unlucky Coast, 
 
 And have his Works or Dictionary lost ! 
 
 That he may know what Roman Authors mean, 
 
 No more than does our blind Translatress Behn. 
 
 The Female Wit, who next convicled stands, 
 Not for abusing Ovid''?, Verse, but Sands'; 
 She Might have learn'd from the ill-borrow'd Grace, 
 (Which little helps the Ruin of her Face) 
 That Wit, like Beauty, triumphs o'er the Heart, 
 When more of Nature's seen, and less of Art : 
 Nor strive in Ovid's Letters to have shown 
 As much of Skill, as Lewdness in her own. 
 Then let her from the next inconstant Lover, 
 Take a new Copy for a second Rover : 
 Describe the Cunning of a Jilting Whore, 
 From the ill Arts her self has us'd before ; 
 Thus let her write, but Paraphrase no more. 
 
 Rymer to Crambo Privilege does claim, 
 Not from the Poet's Genius, but his Name ; 
 Which Providence in contradiction meant, \ 
 
 Tho' he Predestination could prevent, \ 
 
 And with bold Dulness translate Heav'ns Intent. 
 
 p. II. r> 40
 
 MATTHEW PRIOR 
 
 Rash man ! we paid thee Adoration due, 
 
 That ancient Criticks were excell'd by you : 
 
 Each little Wit to your Tribunal came 
 
 To hear their Doom, and to secure their Fame : 
 
 But for Respect you servilely sought Praise, 
 
 Slighted the Umpire's Palm to court the Poet's Bays 
 
 While wise Reflections, and a grave Discourse, 
 
 Declin'd to Zoons a River for a Horse. 
 
 So discontented Pemberton withdrew, 
 
 From sleeping Judges to the noisy Crew ; 
 
 Chang'd awful Ermin for a servile Gown, 
 
 And to an humble Fawning smooth'd his Frown, 
 
 The Simile will differ here indeed ; 
 
 You cannot versify, though he can plead. 
 
 To painful Creech my last Advice descends, 
 That he and Learning would at length be Friends ; 
 That he'd command his dreadful Forces home, 
 Nor be a Second Hannibal to Rome. 
 But since no Counsel his Resolves can bow ; 
 Nor may thy Fate, O Rome, resist his Vow ; 
 Debarr'd From Pens as Lunaticks from Swords, 
 He should be kept from waging War with Words : 
 Words which at first like Atoms did advance 
 To the just Measure of a tuneful Dance, 
 And jumpt to form, as did his Worlds, by Chance. 
 This pleas'd the Genius of the vicious Town j 
 The Wits confirm'd his Labours with Renown, 
 And swear the early Atheist for their own. 
 
 Had he stopt here but ruin'd by Success, 
 
 With a new Spawn he fill'd the burden'd Press, 
 Till as his Volumes swell'd, his Fame grew less. 
 So Merchants flatter'd with increasing Gain, 
 Still tempt the Falshood of the doubtful Main : 
 So the first running of the lucky Dice, 
 Does eager Bully to new Betts intice ; 
 Till Fortune urges him to be undone, 
 And Ames- Ace loses what kind Sixes won. 
 Witness this Truth Lucretia's wretched Fate, 
 Which better have I heard my Nurse relate ; 
 
 50
 
 A SUPPLEMENT, ETC. 
 
 The Matron suffers Violence again, 
 
 Not Tarquin\ Lust so vile, as Creech's Pen ; 
 
 Witness those heaps his Midnight Studies raise, 
 
 Hoping to Rival Ogilby in Praise : 
 
 Both writ so much, so ill, a Doubt might rise, 
 
 Which with most Justice might deserve the Prize ; 
 
 Had not the first the Town with Cuts appeas'd, 
 
 And where the Poem fail'd, the Picture pleas'd. 
 
 Wits of a meaner Rank, I could rehearse, 
 But will not plague your Patience, nor my Verse : 
 In long Oblivion may they happy lie, 
 And with their Writings, may their Folly die. 
 Now, why should we poor Ovid yet pursue, 
 And make his very Book an Exile too, 
 In Words more barb'rous than the place he knew ? 
 If Firgil labour'd not to be translated, 
 Why suffers he the only thing he hated ? 
 Had he foreseen some ill-officious Tongue, 
 Wou'd in unequal Strains blaspheme his Song ; 
 Nor Prayers, nor Force, nor Fame shou'd e'er prevent 
 The just Performance of his wise Intent : 
 Smiling h'had seen his Martyr'd Work expire, 
 Nor live to feel more cruel Foes, than Fire. 
 
 Some Fop in Preface may those Thefts excuse, 
 That Virgil was the Draught of Homer 's Muse : 
 That Horace's by Pindar's Lyre was strung, 
 By the great Image of whose Voice he sung. 
 They found the Mass, 'tis true, but in their Mould 
 They purg'd the drossy Oar to current Gold : 
 Mending their Pattern, they escap'd the Curse ; 
 Yet had they not writ better, they'd writ worse. 
 But when we bind the Lyric up to Rhime, 
 And lose the Sense to make the Poem chime : 
 When from their Flocks we force Sicilian Swains, 
 To ravish Milk-maids in our English Plains ; 
 And wandring Authors, e'er they touch our Shore, 
 Must like our Locust Hitgonots be poor ; 
 I'd bid th' importing Club their Pains forbear, 
 And traffick in our own, tho' homely Ware, 
 
 D 2 
 
 5*
 
 MATTHEW PRIOR 
 
 Whilst from themselves the honest Vermin spin, 
 I'd like the Texture, tho' the Web be thin ; 
 Nay, take Crown 's Plays, because his own, for Wit ; 
 And praise what Durfey, not Translating, writ. 
 
 A Satire upon the Poets, in Imitation of the 
 Seventh Satire of Juvenal. 
 
 Et Spes <y ratio studiorum, &c. 
 
 SIR, 
 
 ALL my Endeavours, all my Hopes depend 
 L On you the Orphans, and the Muses Friend ; 
 The only great good Man, who will declare 
 Virtue and Verse the objecl: of his Care j 
 And prove a Patron in the worst of Times, 
 When hungry Bayes forsakes his Empty Rhymes, 
 Beseeching all true Cath'licks Charity, 
 For a poor prostitute which long did lie, 
 Under the Mortal Sins of Verse, and Heresy. 
 
 Shadwell, and starving Tate I cease to name, 
 Poets of all Religions are the same : 
 Recanting Settle brings the tuneful Ware, 
 Which wiser Smlthfield damn'd to Sturbridge Fair ; 
 Protests his Tragedies and Libels fail 
 To yield him Paper, Penny-loaves and Ale, 
 And bids our Youth by his Example fly 
 The Love of Politicks, and Poetry. 
 
 And all Retreats except New-Hall refuse 
 To shelter Durfey, and his Jocky Muse ; 
 There to the Butler, and his Grace's Maid, 
 He turns, like Homer, Sonneteer for Bread ; 
 Knows his just Bounds, nor ever durst aspire 
 Beyond the swearing Groom, and Kitchin fire. 
 
 52
 
 A SUPPLEMENT, ETC. 
 
 Is there a Man to these Examples blind, 
 To clinking Numbers fatally design'd ? 
 Who by his Parts would purchase Meat, and Fame, 
 And in new Miscellanies plant his Name; 
 Were my Beard grown, the Wretch I'd thus advise, 
 Repent, fond Mortal, and be timely wise ; 
 Take heed, nor be by gilded Hopes betray'd, 
 Clio'?, a Jilt, and Pegasus a Jade ; 
 By Verse you'l starve : "John Saul cou'd never live, 
 Unless the Bellman made the Poet thrive ; 
 Go rather in some little Shed by Pauls, 
 Sell Chevy-chase, or Baxter 's Salve for Souls, 
 Cry Raree-Shows, sell Ballads, transcribe Votes, 
 Be Carr, or Keach, or any thing but Oates. 
 
 Hold, Sir, some Bully of the Muses cries, 
 Methinks you're more Satyrical, than Wise ; 
 You rail at Verse indeed, but rail in Rhyme, 
 At once encourage, and condemn the Crime. 
 
 True, Sir, I write and have a Patron too, 
 To whom my Tributary Songs are due ; 
 Yet with your leave I'd honestly disswade 
 Those wretched Men from Pindus barren shade : 
 Who tho' they fire their Muse, and rack their Brains 
 With blustering Heroes, and with piping Swains, 
 Can no great patient giving Man engage 
 To fill their Pockets, and their Title-Page. 
 Were I, like these, unhappily decreed 
 By Penny Elegies to get my Bread, 
 Or want a Meal unless George Croom and I 
 Could strike a Bargain for my Poetry, 
 
 I'd damn my Works to wrap up Soap and Cheese, ) 
 
 Or furnish Squibs for City Prentices L 
 
 To burn the Pope, and celebrate Queen Bess. 
 
 But on your Ruin stubbornly pursue, 
 Herd with the hungry little chiming Crew, 
 Obtain the empty Title of a Wit, 
 And be a free-cost, Noisy in the Pit ; 
 Print your dull Poems, and before 'em place 
 A Crown of Laurel, and a meager Face. 
 
 53
 
 MATTHEW PRIOR 
 
 And may just Heav'n thy hated Life prolong, 
 Till thou, blest Author, seest thy deathless Song, 
 The dusty Lumber of a Sm'itbfield Stall, 
 And find'st thy Picture starch'd 'gainst Suburb Wall, 
 With "Johnny Armstrong, and the Prodigal. 
 
 And to compleat the Curse 
 
 When Age and Poverty comes faster on, 
 And sad Experience tells thou art undone. 
 May no kind Country Grammar-School afford 
 Ten Pounds a Year to pay for Bed and Board ; 
 Till void of any fix'd Employ, and now 
 Grown useless to the Army and the Plow, 
 You've no Friend left, but trusting Landlady, 
 Who stows you on hard Truckle, Garret high, 
 To dream of Dinner, and curse Poetry. 
 
 Sir, Iv'e a Patron, you reply. 'Tis true, 
 Fortune and Parts you say may get one too : 
 Why faith e'en try, Write, Flatter, Dedicate, 
 My Lord's, and his Forefathers Deeds relate : 
 Yet know he'll wisely strive ten thousand ways, 
 To shun a needy Poets fulsom Praise ; 
 Nay, to avoid thy Importunity, 
 Neglect his State, and condescend to be 
 A Poet, tho' perhaps a worse than Thee. 
 
 Thus from a Patron he becomes a Friend, 
 Forgetting to reward, learns to commend ; 
 Receives your twelve long Months succesless Toil, 
 And talks of Authors, Energy, and Stile ; 
 Damns the dull Poems of the scribling Town, 
 Applauds your Writings, and repeats his own, 
 Whilst thou in Complaisance oblig'd, must sit 
 T' extol his Judgment and admire his Wit ; 
 And wrapt with his Essay on Poetry 
 Swear Horace writ not half so strong as He, 
 But that we're partial to Antiquity. 
 Yet this Authentick Peer perhaps scarce knows 
 With jingling sounds to tag insipid Prose, 
 
 54
 
 A SUPPLEMENT, ETC. 
 
 And should be by some honest * Manly told, 
 He'ad lost his Credit to secure his Gold. 
 
 But if thou'rt blest enough to write a Play, 
 Without the hungry hopes of kind third Day, 
 And he believes that in thy Dedication 
 Thou'lt fix his Name, not bargain for the Station, 
 My Lord his useless Kindness then assures, 
 And to the utmost of his Pow'r he's yours ; 
 How fine your Plot, how exquisite each Scene ! 
 And play'd at Court, would strangely please the Queen. 
 And you may take his Judgment sure, for he 
 Knows the true Spirit of good Poetry ; 
 And might with equal Judgment have put in 
 For Poet-Laureat as Lord Chamberlain. 
 All this you see and know, yet cease to shun ; 
 And seeing, knowing, strive to be undone. 
 So kidnapt Dutchess once beyond Gravesend, 
 Rejects the Councel of recalling Friend ; 
 Is told the dreadful Bondage she must bear, 
 And sees unable to avoid the Snare. 
 So praftic'd Thief oft taken ne'er afraid, 
 Forgets the Sentence, and persues the Trade. 
 Tho' yet he almost feels the Smoaking Brand, 
 And sad T. R. stands fresh upon his Hand. 
 The Author then, whose daring hopes would strive 
 With well-built Verse to keep his Fame alive, 
 And something to Posterity present, 
 That's very New and very Excellent ; 
 Something beyond the uncall'd drudging Tribe, 
 Beyond what Bayes can write, or I describe ; 
 Shou'd in substantial Happiness abound, 
 His Mind with Peace, his Board with plenty Crown'd. 
 No early Duns should break his Learned Rest, | 
 
 No sawcy Cares his Nobler Thoughts molest, 
 Only the God within should shake his labouring Breast. ) 
 
 In vain we from our Soneteers require, 
 The Height of Cowley $ and Anacreon's Lyre. 
 
 In vain we bid 'em fill the Bowl, 
 
 Large as their capacious Soul, 
 
 * The Chief Chara&er in Mr. Wycberkfs plain Dealer. 
 
 55
 
 MATTHEW PRIOR 
 
 Who since the King was crown'd ne'er tasted Wine, 
 
 But write at sight, and know not where to dine. 
 
 In vain we bid dejecled Settle hit 
 
 The Tragick Flights of Shakespear's towring Wit ; 
 
 He needs must miss the Mark, who's kept so low, 
 
 He has not strength enough to draw the Bow. 
 
 Sedley, indeed, and Rochester might write 
 
 For their own Credit, and their Friends Delight, 
 
 Shewing how far they cou'd the rest outdo, 
 
 As in their Fortunes, in their Writings too. 
 
 But should Drudge Dryden this Example take 
 
 And Absaloms for empty Glory make, 
 
 He'd soon perceive his Income scarce enough, 
 
 To feed his nostril with inspiring Snuff; 
 
 Starving for Meat, not surfeiting on Praise, 
 
 He'd find his Brains as barren as his Bayes. 
 
 There was a Time when Otway charm'd the Stage, 
 Otway the Hope, the Sorrow of our Age ; 
 When the full Pit with pleas'd attention hung, 
 Wrapt with each accent from Castalio's Tongue. 
 With what a Laughter was his Soldier read ! 
 How mourn'd they when his Jaffier struck, and Bled ! 
 Yet this best Poet, tho' with so much ease, 
 He never drew his Pen but sure to please ; 
 Tho' lightning were less lively than his Wit, 
 And Thunder-claps less loud than those o'th' Pit, 
 He had of's many Wants much earlier dy'd, 
 Had not kind Banker Betterton supply'd, 
 And took for Pawn the Embryo of a Play, 
 Till he could pay himself the next third Day. 
 Were Shakespear's self to live again, he'd ne'er 
 Deg'nerate to a Poet from a Player. 
 Now Carlisle in the new-rais'd Troop we see, 
 And chattering Mountfort in the Chancery ; 
 Mountfort how fit for Politicks and Law, 
 That play'd so well Sir Courtly and Jack Daw. 
 Dance then attendance in slow Mulgrave's Hall, 
 Read Maps, or court the Sconces till he call ; 
 
 56
 
 A SUPPLEMENT, ETC. 
 
 One Actor's Commendation shall do more 
 
 Than Patron now, or Merit heretofore. 
 
 Some Poets I confess, the Stage has fed, 
 
 Who for Half Crowns are shown, for two Pence read ; 
 
 But these not envy thou, but imitate, 
 
 Much rather starve in ShadweVs silent Fate, 
 
 Then new vamp Farces, and be damn'd with Tate. 
 
 For now no Sidneys will three hundred give, 
 
 That needy Spenser and his Fame may live ; 
 
 None of our new Nobility will send 
 
 To the King's Bench, or to his Bedlam Friend*. 
 
 Chymists and Whores by Buckingham were fed, 
 
 Those by their honest Labours gain'd their Bread ; 
 
 But he was never so expensive yet, 
 
 To keep a Creature meerly for his Wit ; 
 
 And Cowley from Hall-Clifden scarce could have 
 
 One grateful Stone, to shew the World his Grave. 
 
 Pembroke lov'd Tragedy and did provide 
 
 For Butcher's Dogs, and for the whole Bankside ; 
 
 The Bear was fed, but Dedicating Lee, 
 
 Was thought to have a larger Paunch than he. 
 
 More I could say, but care not much to meet 
 
 A Crabtree Cudgel in a narrow Street. 
 
 Besides, your Yawning prompts me to give o er : 
 
 Your humble Servant, Sir, not one word more. 
 
 * Nat Lee. 
 
 FINIS. 
 
 Epitaph Extempore. 
 
 Heralds, and Statesmen, by your leave, 
 Here lye the Bones of Matthew Prior ; 
 
 The Son of Adam and of Eve, 
 Can Bourbon, or Nassau, go higher? 
 
 57
 
 MATTHEW PRIOR 
 
 THE 
 
 Turtle and the Sparrow. 
 A 
 
 TALE. 
 
 BEHIND an unfrequented Glade, 
 Where Eugh and Myrtle mix their Shade, 
 A Widow Turtle pensive sat, 
 And wept her murder'd Lover's Fate. 
 The Sparroiv chanc'd that Way to walk, 
 (A Bird that loves to chirp and talk) 
 Besure he did the Turtle greet, 
 She answer'd him as she thought meet. 
 Sparrows and Turtles by the bye, 
 Can think as well as You or / : 
 But how they did their Thoughts express, 
 The Margin shows by T, and S. 
 
 T. My Hopes are lost, my Joys are fled, 
 Alas ! I weep Columbo dead : 
 Come all ye winged Lovers, come, 
 Drop Pinks and Daisies on his Tomb : 
 Sing Philomel his Fun'ral Verse, 
 Ye pious Redbreasts deck his Herse : 
 Fair Swans extend your Dying-Throats, 
 Columbo'' s Death requires your Notes : 
 For Him, my Friends, for Him I moan, 
 My dear Columbo, dead and gone. 
 
 Stretch'd on the Bier Columbo lies, 
 Pale are his Cheeks, and clos'd his Eyes ; 
 Those Cheeks, where Beauty smiling lay ; 
 Those Eyes, where Love was us'd to play : 
 Ah cruel Fate, alas ! how soon 
 That Beauty and those Joys are flown ! 
 
 5»
 
 THE TURTLE AND THE SPARROW 
 
 Columbo is no more, ye Floods, 
 Bear the sad Sound to distant Woods ; 
 The Sound let Echo's Voice restore, 
 And say, Columbo is no more. 
 Ye Floods, ye JVoods, ye Echoes, moan 
 My dear Columbo, dead and gone. 
 
 The Driads all forsook the Wood, 
 And mournful Naiads round me stood, 
 The tripping Fauns and Fairies came, 
 All conscious of our mutual Flame, 
 To sigh for him, with me to moan, 
 My dear Columbo, dead and gone. 
 
 Venus disdain'd not to appear 
 To lend my Grief a Friendly Ear ; 
 But what avails her Kindness now ? 
 She ne'er shall hear my Second Vow : 
 The Loves that round their Mother flew, 
 Did in her Face her Sorrows view. 
 Their drooping Wings they pensive hung, 
 Their Arrows broke, their Bows unstrung ; 
 They heard attentive what I said, 
 And wept with me, Columbo dead : 
 For Him I sigh, for Him I moan, 
 My dear Columbo, dead and gone. 
 
 'Tis Ours to Weep, great Venus said, 
 Tis JOVE's alone to be Obey'd : 
 Nor Birds, nor Goddesses can move 
 The just Behests of Fatal JOVE; 
 I saw thy Mate with sad Regret, 
 And curs'd the Fowler's cruel Net : 
 Ah, dear Columbo, how he fell, 
 Whom Turturella lov'd so well ! 
 I saw him bleeding on the Ground, 
 The Sight tore up my ancient Wound ; 
 And whilst you wept, alas, I cry'd, 
 Columbo and Adonis Dy'd. 
 
 IVeep all ye Streams, ye Mountains groan, 
 I mourn Columbo, dead and gone ; 
 Still let my tender Grief complain, 
 Nor Day, nor Night that Grief restrain, 
 
 59
 
 MATTHEW PRIOR 
 
 I said, and Venus still reply'd, 
 Columbo and Adonis Dy'd. 
 
 S. Poor Turturella, hard thy Case, 
 And just thy Tears, alas, alas ! 
 
 T. And hast thou lov'd, and canst thou hear 
 With piteous Heart a Lover's Care ? 
 Come then, wi[t]h Me thy Sorrows join, 
 And ease My Woes by telling Thine : 
 For Thou, poor Bird, perhaps may it moan 
 Some Passerella dead and gone. 
 
 S. Dame Turtle, this runs soft in Rhime, 
 But neither suits the Place nor Time ; 
 That Fowler's Hand, whose cruel Care 
 For dear Columbo set the Snare, 
 The Snare again for Thee may set ; 
 Two Birds may perish in One Net. 
 Thou shou'd'st avoid this cruel Field, 
 And Sorrow shou'd to Prudence yield. 
 'Tis sad to Die. T. It may be so ; 
 'Tis sadder yet, to Live in Woe. 
 
 iS. When Widows use their canting Strain, 
 They seem resolv'd to wed again. 
 
 T. When Wid'wers wou'd this Truth disprove, 
 They never tasted real Love. 
 
 S. Love is soft Joy and gentle Strife, 
 
 His Efforts all depend on Life : 
 
 When he has thrown Two Golden Darts, 
 
 And struck the Lovers mutual Hearts ; 
 
 Of his black Shafts let Death send One, 
 
 Alas ! the pleasing Game is done, 
 
 111 is the poor Survivor sped, 
 
 A Corps feels mighty cold in Bed. 
 
 Venus said right, nor Tears can move, 
 
 Nor plaints revoke the Will of JOVE. 
 All must obey the gen'ral Doom, 
 
 Down from Alcides to Tom Thumb. 
 
 Grim Pluto will not be withstood 
 
 By Force or Craft ; Tall Robinhood, 
 
 As well as Little John, is dead. 
 
 (You see how deeply I am read) 
 
 60
 
 THE TURTLE AND THE SPARROW 
 
 With Fate's lean Tipstaff none can dodge, 
 He'll find you out where e'er you lodge. 
 Ajax to shun his gen'ral Pow'r, 
 In vain absconded in a Flozuer. 
 An idle Scene Tythonus a£ted, 
 When to a Grass-hopper contracted : 
 Death struck them in those Shapes again, 
 As once he did when they were Men. 
 
 For Reptiles perish, Plants decay, 
 Flesh is but Grass, Grass turns to Hay, 
 And Hay to Dung, and Dung to Clay. 
 
 Thus Heads extreamly nice, discover, 
 
 That P'ollcs may Die, some Ten times over ; 
 
 But oft by too refin'd a touch, 
 
 To prove Things plain, they prove too much. 
 
 What e'er Pythagoras may say, 
 
 (For each, you know, will have his Way) 
 
 With great Submission I pronounce, 
 
 That People Die no more than Once : 
 
 But Once is sure, and Death is Common 
 
 To Bird and Man including Woman. 
 
 From the Spread Eagle to the Wren, 
 
 Alas ! no Mortal Fowl knows when ; 
 
 All that wear Feathers first or last, 
 
 Must one Day perch on Charon's Mast ; 
 
 Must lye beneath the Cypress Shade, 
 
 Where Strada's Nightingale was laid. 
 
 Those Fowl who seem Alive to sit, 
 
 Assembled by Dan Chaucer's Wit, 
 
 In Prose have slept Three Hundred Years, 
 
 Exempt from worldly Hopes and Fears, 
 
 And laid in State upon their Herse, 
 
 Are truly but embalm'd in Verse. 
 
 As sure as Lesbia's Sparrow I, 
 
 Thou, sure as Prior's Dove, must Die : 
 
 And ne'er again from Lethe's Streams 
 
 Return to Adda, or to Thames. 
 
 T. I therefore weep Columbo dead, 
 My Hopes bereav'd, my Pleasures fled ; 
 
 61
 
 MATTHEW PRIOR 
 
 / therefore must for ever moan 
 My dear Columbo dead and gone. 
 
 S. Columbo never sees your Tears, 
 Your Cries Columbo never hears ; 
 A Wall of Brass, and one of Lead, 
 Divide the Living from the Dead. 
 Repell'd by this, the gather'd Rain 
 Of Tears beats back to Earth again, 
 In t'other the Collected Sound 
 Of Groans, when once receiv'd, is drown'd. 
 'Tis therefore vain one Hour to grieve 
 What Time it-self can ne'er retrieve, 
 By Nature soft, I know, a Dove 
 Can never live without her Love ; 
 Then quit this Flame, and light another ; 
 Dame, I advise you like a Brother. 
 
 T. What, / to make a second Choice} 
 In other Nuptials to rejoyce ? 
 
 S. Why not my Bird ? T. No Sparrow no, 
 Let me indulge my pleasing woe : 
 Thus sighing, coeing, ease my Pain, 
 
 But never wish nor love again : 
 
 Distress'd for ever let me moan 
 
 My dear Columbo, dead and gone. 
 
 S. Our winged Friends thro' all the Grove 
 
 Contemn thy mad Excess of Love : 
 
 I tell thee, Dame, the t'other Day 
 
 I met a Parrot and a Jay, 
 
 Who mock'd thee in their mimick Tone, 
 
 And wept Columbo, dead and gone. 
 
 T. Whate'er the Jay or Parrot said, 
 
 My Hopes are lost, my Joys are fled ; 
 
 And I for ever must deplore 
 
 Columbo dead and gone. S. Encore ! 
 
 For Shame forsake this BION-sty\e, 
 
 We'll talk an Hour, and walk a Mile. 
 
 Does it with Sense or Health agree, 
 
 To sit thus mopeing on a Tree ? 
 
 To throw away a Widow's Life, 
 
 When you again may be a Wife. 
 
 62
 
 THE TURTLE AND THE SPARROW 
 
 Conic on, I'll tell you my Amours; 
 Who knows but they may infl'ence Yours ? 
 Example draws, where Precept fails, 
 And Sermons are less read than Tales. 
 
 T. Sparrow, I take thee for my Friend, 
 As such will hear thee, I descend ; 
 Hop on and talk, but honest Bird, 
 Take care that no immodest Word 
 May venture to offend my Ear. 
 
 S. Too Saint-like Turtle, never fear, 
 
 By Method Things are best discours'd, 
 
 Begin we then with IVlfe the first : 
 
 A handsome, senseless, awkward Fool 
 
 Who wou'd not Yield, and cou'd not Rule : 
 
 Her A6tions did her Charms disgrace, 
 
 And still her Tongue talk'd off her Face : 
 
 Count me the Leaves on yonder Tree, 
 
 So many diff'rent Wills had she, 
 
 And like the Leaves, as Chance inclin'd, 
 
 Those Wills were chang'd with every Wind: 
 
 She courted the Beau Monde To-night, 
 
 UAssemblee her supreme Delight. 
 
 The next she sat immur'd, unseen, 
 
 And in full Health enjoy 'd the Spleen. 
 
 She censur'd that, she alter'd this, 
 
 And with great Care set all amiss; 
 
 She now cou'd chide, now laugh, now cry, 
 
 Now sing, now pout, all, God knows why : 
 
 Short was her Reign, she Cough'd and Dy'd, 
 
 Proceed we to my Second Bride ; 
 
 Well Born she was, genteely Bred, 
 
 And Buxom both at Board and Bed, 
 
 Glad to oblige, and pleas'd to please, 
 
 And, as Tom Southren wisely says, 
 
 No other Fault had she in Life, 
 
 But only that she was my Wife. 
 
 O Widow-Turtle ! every She, 
 
 (So Nature's Pleasure does Decree) 
 
 Appears a Goddess till enjoy 'd, 
 
 But Birds, and Men, and Gods are cloy'd. 
 
 63
 
 MATTHEW PRIOR 
 
 Was Hercules One Woman's Man ? 
 
 Or Jove for ever Leda's Swan ? 
 
 Ah ! Madam, cease to be mistaken, 
 
 Few marry'd Fowl peck Dunmow-Bacon. 
 
 Variety alone gives Joy, 
 
 The sweetest Meats the soonest cloy : 
 
 What Sparrow, Dame ? what Dove alive ? 
 
 Tho' Venus shou'd the Char'ot drive, 
 
 But wou'd accuse the Harness-Weight, 
 
 If always Coupled to One Mate; 
 
 And often wish the Fetter broke, 
 
 'Tis Freedom but to Change the Yoke. 
 
 T. Impious to wish to Wed again, 
 E'er Death dissolv'd the former Chain. 
 
 S. Spare your Remark, and hear the rest, 
 She brought me Sons, but Jove be blest, 
 She Dy'd in Child-Bed on the Nest. 
 
 Well, rest her Bones, quoth I, she's gone: 
 
 But must I therefore lye alone ? 
 
 What, am I to her Memory ty'd ? 
 
 Must I not Live, because she Dy'd ? 
 
 And thus I Logically said, 
 
 ('Tis good to have a Reas'ning-Head) 
 
 Is this my Wife ? Probatur, not ; 
 
 For Death dissolv'd the Marriage-Knot : 
 
 She was, Concedo, during Life ; 
 
 But, is a Piece of Clay, a Wife ? 
 
 Again, if not a Wife, d'ye see, 
 
 Why then no Kin at all to me : 
 
 And he who gen'ral Tears can shed 
 
 For Folks that happen to be Dead, 
 
 May e'en with equal Justice mourn 
 
 For those who never yet were born. 
 
 T. Those Points indeed you quaintly prove, 
 But Logick is no Friend to Love. 
 
 S. My Children then were just pen feather'd 
 Some little Corn for them I gather'd, 
 And sent them to my Spouse's Mother, 
 So left that Brood to get another. 
 
 64
 
 THE TURTLE AND THE SPARROW 
 
 And as Old Harry Whilome said, 
 Reflecting on Anne Bullen Dead, 
 Cocksbones, I now again do stand 
 The jolly 'st Batchelor i'th' Land. 
 
 T. Ah me ! my Joys, my Hopes are fled ; 
 My first, my only Love is Dead. 
 With endless Grief let me bemoan 
 Columbo's Loss. S. Let me go on. 
 As yet my Fortune was but narrow, 
 I woo'd my Cousin Philly Sparrow, 
 O'th' Elder House of Chirping-End, 
 From whence the younger Branch descend ; 
 Well seated in a Field of Pease 
 She liv'd, extreamly at her Ease : 
 But when the Honey-Moon was past, 
 The following Nights were soon o'ercast, 
 She kept her own, could plead the Law, 
 And Quarrel for a Barley-Straw ; 
 Both, you may judge became less kind, 
 As more we knew each other's Mind : 
 She soon grew sullen, I, bard-hearted, 
 We scolded, hated, fought, and parted. 
 To LONDON, blessed Town, I went, 
 She Boarded at a Farm in Kent : 
 A Magpye from the Country fled, 
 And kindly told me she was Dead : 
 I prun'd my Feathers, cock'd my Tail, 
 And set my Heart again to Sale. 
 
 My Fourth, a meer Coquet, or such 
 I thought her, nor avails it much, 
 If true or false, our Troubles spring 
 More from the Fancy than the Thing. 
 Two staring Horns, I often said, 
 But ill become a Sparrow's Head ; 
 But then, to set that Balance even, 
 Your Cuckold-Sparrow goes to Heaven. 
 The Thing you fear, suppose it done, 
 If you enquire, you make it known. 
 Whilst at the Root your Horns are sore, 
 The more you scratch, they ake the more. 
 
 p. ii. E 65
 
 MATTHEW PRIOR 
 
 But turn the Tables and reflect, 
 
 All may not be, that you suspedl : 
 
 By the Mind's Eye, the Horns, we mean, 
 
 Are only in Ideas seen, 
 
 'Tis from the inside of the Head 
 
 Their Branches shoot, their Antlers spread ; 
 
 Fruitful Suspicions often bear them, 
 
 You feel 'em from the Time you fear 'em. 
 
 Cuckoo ! Cuckoo ! that Echo'd word, 
 
 Offends the Ear of Vulgar Bird ; 
 
 But those of finer Taste have found 
 
 There's nothing in't beside the sound. 
 
 Preferment always waits on Horns, 
 
 And Houshold Peace the Gift adorns : 
 
 This Way, or That, let Fa&ions tend, 
 
 The Spark is still the Cuckold's Friend ; 
 
 This Way, or That, let Madam roam, 
 
 Well pleas'd and quiet she comes home. 
 
 Now weigh the Pleasure with the Pain, 
 
 The plus and minus, Loss and Gain, 
 
 And what La Fontaine laughing says, 
 
 Is serious Truth, in such a Case ; 
 
 Who slights the Evil, finds it least, 
 
 And who does Nothing, does the best. 
 
 I never strove to rule the Roast, 
 
 She ne'er refus'd to pledge my Toast : 
 
 In Visits if we chanc'd [t]o meet, 
 
 I seem'd obliging, she discreet ; 
 
 We neither much caress'd, nor strove, 
 
 But good Dissembling pass'd for Love. 
 
 T. Whate'er of Light our Eye may know, 
 'Tis only Light it-self can show : 
 Whate'er of Love our Heart can feel, 
 'Tis mutual Love alone can tell. 
 
 5. My pretty, amorous, foolish Bird, 
 A Moment's Patience, in one Word, 
 The Three kind Sisters broke the Chain, 
 She Dy'd, I mourn'd, and woo'd again. 
 
 T. Let me with juster Grief deplore 
 My dear Columbo, now no more ; 
 
 66
 
 THE TURTLE AND THE SPARROW 
 
 Let me with constan[t] Tears bewail. 
 
 S. Your Sorrow does but spoil my Talc. 
 My Fifth she prov'd a jealous Wife, 
 Lord shield us all from such a Life ! 
 'Twas Doubt, Complaint, Reply, Chit-Chat, 
 'Twas This, To-day, To-morrow, That. 
 Sometimes forsooth, upon the Brook, 
 I kept a Miss ; an honest Rook 
 Told it a Snipe, who told a Stear, 
 Who told it those, who told it her. 
 One Day a Linnet and a Lark 
 Had met me stroking in the Dark ; 
 The next, a Woodcock and an Owl 
 Quick-sighted, grave, and sober Fowl, 
 Wou'd on their Corp'ral Oath alledge, 
 I kiss'd a Hen behind the Hedge. 
 Well, Madam Turtle, to be brief, 
 (Repeating but renews our Grief) 
 As once she watch'd me, from a Rail, 
 Poor Soul ! her Footing chanc'd to fail, 
 And down she fell, and broke her Hip, 
 The Fever came, and then the Pip : 
 Death did the only cure apply ; 
 She was at quiet, so was I. 
 
 T. Cou'd Love unmov'd these Changes view ? 
 His Sorrows, as his Joys are true. 
 
 <S. My dearest Dove, One wise Man says, 
 Alluding to our present Case, 
 We're here To-day, and gone To-morrow : 
 Then what avails superfl'ous Sorrow ? 
 Another full as wise as he, 
 Adds ; that a Marry'd Man may see 
 Two happy Hours ; and which are they ? 
 The First and Last, perhaps you'll say ; 
 'Tis true, when blithe she goes to Bed, 
 And when she peaceably lies Dead ; 
 Women Uwixt Sheets ore best, 'tis said, 
 Be they of Holland or of Lead. 
 
 Now cur'd of Hymen's Hopes and Fears, 
 And sliding down the Vale of Years, 
 
 E 2 67
 
 MATTHEW PRIOR 
 
 I hoped to fix my future Rest, 
 
 And took a Widow to my Nest. 
 
 Ah Turtle ! had she been like Thee, 
 
 Sober, yet gentle ; wise, yet free ; 
 
 But she was peevish, noisy, bold, 
 
 A Witch ingrafted on a Scold : 
 
 Jove in Pandora's Box confin'd 
 
 A Hundred Ills to vex Mankind ; 
 
 To vex one Bird, in her Bandore 
 
 He hid at least a Hundred more : 
 
 And soon as Time that Veil withdrew, 
 
 The Plagues o'er all the Parish flew ; 
 
 Her Stock of borrow'd Tears grew dry, 
 
 And Native Tempests arm'd her Eye, 
 
 Black Clouds around her Forehead hung, 
 
 And Thunder rattled on her Tongue. 
 
 We, Young or Old, or Cock or Hen, 
 
 All liv'd in Bolus's Den ; 
 
 The nearest her, the more accurst, 
 
 111 far'd her Friends, her Husband worst. 
 
 But JOFE amidst his Anger spares, 
 
 Remarks our Faults, but hears our Pray'rs. 
 
 In short, she Dy'd, why then she's Dead 
 
 Quoth I, and once again I'll wed. 
 
 Wou'd Heaven this Mourning Year was past, 
 
 One may have better Luck at last. 
 
 Matters at worst are sure to mend, 
 
 The DEVIUs Wife was but a Fiend. 
 
 T. Thy Tale has rais'd a Turtle's Spleen, 
 Uxorious Inmate, Bird obscene, 
 Dar'st thou defile these Sacred Groves, 
 These silent Seats of faithful Loves ? 
 Begone, with flagging Wings sit down 
 On some old Pent-house near the Town ; 
 In Brewers-Stables peck thy Grain, 
 Then wash it down with puddled Rain : 
 And hear thy dirty OfF-spring Squall 
 From Bottles on a Suburb- Wall. 
 Where Thou hast been, return again, 
 Vile Bird! Thou hast convers'd with Men ; 
 
 68
 
 THE TURTLE AND THE SPARROW 
 
 Notions like these, from Men are giv'n, 
 Those vilest Creatures under Heav'n. 
 
 To Cities and to Courts repair, 
 Flatt'ry and Falshood flourish there : 
 There, all thy wretched Arts employ, 
 Where Riches triumph over Joy ; 
 Where Passions do with Interest Barter, 
 And Hymen holds, by Mammons Charter; 
 Where Truth by Point of Law is Parry 7/, 
 And Knaves and Prudes are Six-Times Marry d. 
 
 APPLICATION 
 
 OF THE 
 TURTLE and SPARROW. 
 
 O Dearest daughter of two dearest friends, 
 To thee, my muse, this little tale commends ; 
 Loving, and lov'd, regard thy future mate, 
 Long love his person, tho' deplore his fate. 
 Seem young, when old, in thy dear husband's arms, 
 For constant virtue has immortal charms ; 
 And when I lie low sepulcher'd in earth, 
 And the glad year returns thy day of birth, 
 Vouchsafe to say e'er I cou'd write or spell, 
 The Bard, who from my cradle wish'd me well, 
 Told me I should the prating Sparrow blame, 
 And bid me imitate the Turtle's fame. 
 
 69
 
 MATTHEW PRIOR 
 
 DOWN-HALL ; 
 
 A 
 
 BALLAD. 
 
 To the 'Tune of King John, and the Abbot of 
 Canterbury. 
 
 I Sing not old Jason, who Travell'd thro' Greece, 
 To Kiss the fair Maids, and possess the rich Fleece : 
 Nor Sing I ^Eneas, who led by his Mother, 
 Got rid of One Wife, and went far for another, 
 
 Derry down, down, hey derry down. 
 
 Nor Him who thro' Asia and Europe did roam, 
 Ulysses by Name, who ne'er cry'd to go home ; 
 But rather desir'd to see Cities and Men, 
 Than return to his Farms, and Converse with old Pen. 
 
 Hang Homer and Virgil ; their meaning to seek, 
 A Man must have polc'd in the Latin and Greek ; 
 Those who Love our own Tongue, we have Reason to hope, 
 Have read them Translated by Dryden and Pope. 
 
 But I Sing Exploits, that have lately been done 
 By Two British Heroes, call'd Matthew and John : 
 And how they rid Friendly from fine London-Town, 
 Fair Essex to see, and a Place they call DOWN. 
 
 Now e'er they went out, you may rightly suppose, 
 How much they Discours'd, both in Prudence and Prose: 
 For before this great Journey was throughly concerted, 
 Full often they met; and as often they parted. 
 
 And thus Matthew said, look you here, my Friend John, 
 I fairly have Travell'd Years Thirty and One ; 
 And tho' I still carry'd my Soveraign's Warrants, 
 I only have gone upon other Folks Errands. 
 
 70
 
 DOWN-HALL 
 
 And now in this fourney of Life, I wou'd have 
 A Place where to Bair, t'wixt the Court and the Grave \ 
 Where joyful to Live, not unwilling to Die — 
 Gadxooks, I have just such a Place in my Eye. 
 
 There are Gardens so Stately, and Arbors so Thick, 
 A Portal of Stone, and a Fabrick of Brick. 
 The Matter next Week shall be all in your Pow'r ; 
 But the Money, Gadzooks, must be Paid in an Hour. 
 
 For Things in this World, must by Law be made certain, 
 We Both must repair unto Oliver Martin ; 
 For he is a Lawyer of worthy Renown. 
 I'll bring You to see ; he must fix you at DOWN. 
 
 Quoth Matthew, I know, that from Berwick to Dover, 
 You have Sold all our Premisses over and over. 
 And now if your Buyers and Sellers agree, 
 You may throw all our Acres into the South-Sea. 
 
 But a word to the Purpose ; To-morrow, dear Friend, 
 We'll see, what To-night you so highly commend. 
 And if with a Garden and House I am blest ; 
 Let the Devil and Con y go with the rest. 
 
 Then answer'd Squire Morley, pray get a Calesch, 
 That in Summer may Burn, and in Jointer may Splash : 
 I love Dirt and Dust ; and 'tis always my Pleasure, 
 To take with me much of the Soil which I Measure. 
 
 But Matthew thought better : for Matthew thought right, 
 And hired a Chariot so trim and so tight, 
 That extreams both of Winter and Summer might pass; 
 For one Window was Canvas, the t'other was Glass. 
 
 Draw up quoth Friend Matthew; pull down quoth Friend 
 We shall be both Hotter and Colder anon. {J°^ n -> 
 
 Thus Talking and Scolding, they forward did Speed ; 
 And Ralpho pac'd by, under Newman the Sweed. 
 
 Into an old Inn, did this Equipage roll, 
 At a Town they call Hodsdon, the Sign of the Bull, 
 Near a Nymph with an Urn, that divides the High-way, 
 And into a Puddle throws Mother of Tea. 
 
 71
 
 MATTHEW PRIOR 
 
 Come here my sweet Landlady, pray how do you do ? 
 Where is Sisley so cleanly, and Prudence and Sue? 
 And where is the Widow that dwelt here below ? 
 And the Hostler that Sung about Eight Years ago ? 
 
 And where is your Sister so mild and so dear ? 
 Whose Voice to her Maids like a Trumpet was clear, 
 By my Troth, She replies, you grow Younger, I think : 
 And pray Sir, what Wine does the Gentleman drink ? 
 
 Why now let me Die, Sir, or live upon Trust, 
 If I know to which Question to answer you first. 
 Why Things since I saw you, most strangely have vary'd, 
 And the Hostler is Hang'd, and the Widow is Marry'd. 
 
 And Prue left a Child for the Parish to Nurse ; 
 And Sisley went off with a Gentleman's Purse ; 
 And as to my Sister so mild and so dear, 
 She has lain in the Church-yard full many a Year. 
 
 Well, Peace to her Ashes ; what signifies Grief: 
 She Roasted red-Feal, and she Powder'd \ea.n-Beef: 
 Full nicely she knew to Cook up a fine Dish ; 
 For tough was her Pullets, and tender her Fish, 
 
 For that matter, Sir, be ye Squire, Knight, or Lord, 
 I'll give you whate'er a good Inn can afford : 
 I shou'd look on myself as unhappily Sped, 
 Did I yield to a Sister, or Living, or Dead. 
 
 Of Mutton, a delicate Neck and a Breast, 
 Shall Swim in the Water in which they were Drest : 
 And because You great Folks are with Rarities taken, 
 Add\a-Eggs shall be next Course, tost up with rank- Bacon. 
 
 The Supper was Serv'd, and the Sheets they were laid ; 
 And Morley most lovingly whisper'd the Maid. 
 The Maid was She handsome ? why truly so, so : 
 But what Morley whisper'd, we never shall know. 
 
 Then up rose these Heroes as brisk as the Sun, 
 And their Horses like his, were prepared to Run. 
 Now when in the Morning Matt, ask'd for the Score, 
 John kindly had paid it the Evening before. 
 
 72
 
 DOWN-HALL 
 
 Their Breakfast so warm to be sure they did Eat : 
 A Custom in Travellers, mighty Discreet, 
 And thus with great Friendship and glee they went on 
 To find out the Place you shall hear of anon, 
 
 calPd Down, down, hey derry down. 
 
 But what did they talk of from Morning 'till Noon ? 
 Why, of Spots in the Sun, and the Man in the Moon: 
 Of the Czar's gentle Temper, the Stocks in the City, 
 The wise Men of Greece, and the Secret-Committee. 
 
 So to Harlow they came ; and hey, where are You all ? 
 Show Us into the Parlor, and mind when I call : 
 Why, your Maids have no motion, your Men have no life ; 
 Well Master, I hear you have Bury'd your Wife. 
 
 Come this very instant, take Care to provide 
 Tea, Sugar, and Toast, and a Horse, and a Guide. 
 Are the Harrisons here, both the Old and the Young ? 
 And where stands fair Down, the delight of my Song ? 
 
 O Squire, to the Grief of my Heart, I may say, 
 I have Bury'd Two Wives since you Travell'd this way ; 
 And the Harrisons both may be presently here ; 
 And DOJVN stands, I think, where it stood the last Year. 
 
 Then Joan brought the Tea-pot, and Caleb the Toast ; 
 And the IVine was froth 'd-out by the Hand of my Host : 
 But we clear'd our Extempore Banquet so fast, 
 That the Harrisons both were forgot in the haste. 
 
 Now hey for Down-Hall ; for the Guide he was got : 
 The Chariot was mounted ; the Horses did trot ; 
 The Guide he did bring us a Dozen Mile round : 
 But O ! all in vain ; for no Down cou'd be found. 
 
 O ! thou Popish Guide, thou hast led us astray. 
 Says he ; how the Devil shou'd I know the way ? 
 I never yet travell'd this Road in my life : 
 [B]ut Doxvn lyes on the left, I was told by my JVife. 
 
 Thy Wife, answer'd Matthew, when she went abroad, 
 Ne'er told Thee of half the bye-ways she had trod : 
 Perhaps She met Friends, and brought Pence to Thy House 
 But Thou shalt go home without ever a Souse. 
 
 73
 
 MATTHEW PRIOR 
 
 What is this thing Morley, and how can you mean it ? 
 We have lost our Estate here, before we have seen it. 
 Have Patience, soft Morley in anger reply'd : 
 To find out our way, let us send off* our Guide. 
 
 O here I spy Down : cast your Eye to the West, 
 Where a Wind-mill so stately stands plainly Confest. 
 On the West reply'd Matthew, no Wind-mill I find : 
 As well Thou may'st tell me, I see the West-wind. 
 
 Now pardon me, Morley, the Wind-mill I spy ; 
 But faithful Achates, no House is there nigh. 
 Look again, says mild Morley, Gadzooks you are blind : 
 The Mill stands before ; and the House lyes behind. 
 
 O now a low ruin'd white Shed I discern, 
 Untyl'd and unglaz'd ; I believe 'tis a Barn, 
 A Barn ? why you rave : 'Tis a House for a Squire, 
 A Justice of Peace, or a Knight of our Shire. 
 
 A House shou'd be Built, or with Brick, or with Stone. 
 Why, 'tis Plaster and Lath ; and I think, that's all One. 
 And such as it is, it has stood with great Fame, 
 Been called a Hall, and has given its Name 
 
 To Down, down, hey derry down. 
 
 Morlev, O Morley, if that be a Hall; 
 
 The Fame with the Building will suddenly fall 
 
 With your Friend Jimmy Gibbs about Buildings agree, 
 My Business is Land ; and it matters not me. 
 
 1 wish you cou'd tell, what a duce your head ails : 
 
 I show'd you Down-Hall ; did you look for Versailles ? 
 Then take House and Farm, as John Ballet will let you : 
 For better for worse, as I took my Dame Betty. 
 
 And now, Sir, a word to the Wise is enough ; 
 You'll make very little of all your Old Stuff: 
 And to build at your Age, by my Troth, you grow simple. 
 Are You Young and Rich, like the Master of Wimple ? 
 If You have these Whims of Apartments and Gardens, 
 From Twice Fifty Acres you'll ne'er see five Farthings : 
 And in Yours I shall find the true Gentleman's Fate : 
 E'er you finish your House, you'll have spent your Estate. 
 
 74
 
 DOWN-HALL 
 
 Now let Us touch Thumbs, and be Friends e'er we part. 
 Here, John, is my Thumb ; and here Matt, is my Heart. 
 To Halstead I speed ; and You go back to Town. 
 Thus ends the First part of the Ballad of DOWN. 
 
 Derry down, down, hey derry down. 
 
 VERSES 
 
 Spoke to the 
 
 Lady Henrietta-Cavendish Holies Harley, 
 In the LIBRARY of 
 
 St. John's College, Cambridge, 
 
 November the <)th, An. 1 7 1 9. 
 
 Madam, 
 
 SINCE ANNA visited the Muses Seat, 
 (Around Her Tomb let weeping Angels wait) 
 Hail Thou, the Brightest of thy Sex, and Best, 
 Most gracious Neighbour, and most welcome Guest. 
 Not Harley's Self to Cam and Isis dear, 
 In Virtues and in Arts great Oxford's Heir, 
 Not He such present Honours shall receive, 
 As to his Consort We aspire to give. 
 
 Writings of Men our Thought to Day negle&s, 
 To pay due Homage to the Softer Sex : 
 Plato and Tully We forbear to read, 
 And their great Followers whom this House has bred, 
 To study Lessons from Thy Morals given, 
 And shining Characters, impress'd by Heaven. 
 Science in Books no longer We pursue, 
 Minerva's Self in Harriet's Face We view ; 
 For when with Beauty we can Virtue join, 
 We paint the Semblance of a Form Divine. 
 
 75
 
 MATTHEW PRIOR 
 
 Their pious Incense let our Neighbours bring, 
 To the kind Mem'ry of some bounteous King, 
 With grateful Hand, due Altars let Them raise 
 To some good Knight's, or holy Prelate's Praise ; 
 We tune our Voices to a nobler Theme, 
 Your Eyes We bless, your Praises We proclaim, 
 St. John's was founded in a Woman's Name : 
 Enjoin'd by Statute, to the Fair We bow ; 
 In Spight of Time, We keep our antient Vow; 
 What Margaret Tudor was, is Harriet Harley now. 
 
 PROLOGUE 
 
 TO THE 
 
 ORPHAN. 
 
 Represented by some of the Westminster-Scholars 
 
 at Hickford's Dancing-Room, the id of 
 
 February, 1720. 
 
 Spoken by the Lord DUPLIN, who Adled 
 CORDELIO. 
 
 WHAT wou'd my humble Comrades have Me say ? 
 Gentle Spectators, pray excuse the Play ? 
 Such Work by hireling Aclors shou'd be done, 
 Whom You may Clap or Hiss, for half a Crown : 
 Our generous Scenes for Friendship We repeat; 
 And if We don't delight, at least We treat. 
 Ours is the Damage, if We chance to blunder ; 
 We may be ask'd whose Patent We a£r. under. 
 
 How shall We gain you ? A-la-mode de France ? 
 We hir'd this Room ; but none of Us can dance : 
 In cutting Capers We shall never please : 
 Our Learning does not lye below our Knees. 
 
 76
 
 PROLOGUE TO THE ORPHAN 
 
 Shall We procure You Symphony and Sound ? 
 Then You must Each suhscribe Two hundred Pound. 
 There We shou'd fail too, as to Point of Voice : 
 Mistake Us not; We're no Italian Boys: 
 True Britons born, from Westminster We come ; 
 And only speak the Style of ancient Rome. 
 We wou'd deserve, not poorly beg Applause ; 
 And stand or fall by Freind's or Busby's Laws. 
 
 For the Distress'd Your Pity We implore : 
 If once refus'd, We trouble You no more, 
 But leave Our Orphan squawling at your Door. 
 
 THE 
 
 CONVERSATION, 
 
 A 
 
 TALE. 
 
 IT always has been thought discreet, 
 To know the Company You meet ; 
 And sure there may be secret Danger, 
 In talking much before a Stranger. 
 Agreed : What then ? Then drink your Ale 
 I'll pledge You, and repeat my Tale. 
 
 No Matter where the Scene is fixt : 
 The Persons were but odly mixt ; 
 When Sober Damon thus began : 
 (And Damon is a clever Man) 
 I now grow Old ; but still, from Youth, 
 Have held for Modesty and Truth : 
 The Men who by these Sea-marks steer, 
 In Life's great Voyage never Err: 
 Upon this Point I dare defy 
 The World : I pause for a Reply. 
 
 77
 
 MATTHEW PRIOR 
 
 Sir, Either is a good Assistant : 
 Said One who sat a little distant : 
 Truth decks our Speeches and our Books ; 
 And Modesty adorns our Looks : 
 But farther Progress We must take, 
 Not only born to Look and Speak : 
 The Man must Act. The Stagyrite 
 Says thus, and says extremely right : 
 Strict Justice is the Sov'raign Guide, 
 That o'er our Action shou'd preside : 
 This Queen of Virtues is confest, 
 To regulate and bind the rest. 
 Thrice Happy, if You once can find 
 Her equal Balance poize your Mind : 
 All different Graces soon will enter, 
 Like Lines concurrent to their Center. 
 
 'Twas thus, in short, these Two went on, 
 With Yea and Nay, and Pro and Con, 
 Thro' many Points divinely dark, 
 And Waterland assaulting Clarke ; 
 'Till, in Theology half lost, 
 Damon took up the Evening-Post ; 
 Confounded Spain, compos'd the North, 
 And deep in Politics held forth. 
 
 Methinks We're in the like Condition, 
 As at the Treaty of Partition : 
 That Stroke, for All King William's Care, 
 Begat another Tedious War: 
 Matthew, who knew the whole Intrigue, 
 Ne'er much approv'd That Mystic League. 
 In the vile Utrecht Treaty too, 
 Poor Man, He found enough to do : 
 Sometimes to Me He did apply ; 
 But down-right Dunstable was I, 
 And told Him, where They were mistaken ; 
 And counsell'd Him to save his Bacon : 
 But (pass His Politics and Prose) 
 I never herded with his Foes ; 
 Nay, in his Verses, as a Friend, 
 
 78
 
 THE CONVERSATION 
 
 I still found Something to commend : 
 Sir, I excus'd his Nut-Brown-Maid ; 
 Whate'er severer Critics said : 
 Too far, I own, the Girl was try'd : 
 The Women All were on my Side. 
 For Alma I retum'd Him Thanks : 
 I lik'd Her with Her little Pranks : 
 Indeed poor Solomon in Rhime 
 Was much too grave to be Sublime. 
 
 Pindar and Damon scorn Transition : 
 So on He ran a new Division ; 
 'Till out of Breath he turn'd to spit : 
 (Chance often helps Us more than Wit) 
 T'other that lucky Moment took, 
 Just nick'd the Time, broke in, and spoke. 
 
 Of all the Gifts the Gods afford, 
 (If we may take old Tully's Word) 
 The greatest is a Friend ; whose Love 
 Knows how to praise, and when reprove : 
 From such a Treasure never part, 
 But hang the Jewel on your Heart: 
 And, pray, Sir (it delights Me) tell ; 
 
 You know this Author mighty well 
 
 Know Him ! d'ye question it ? Ods-fish ! 
 Sir, does a Beggar know his Dish ? 
 I lov'd Him, as I told You, I 
 
 Advis'd Him Here a Stander-by 
 
 Twitch'd Damon gently by the Cloak, 
 And thus unwilling Silence broke : 
 Damon, 'tis Time We shou'd retire: 
 The Man You talk with is Mat. Prior. 
 
 PATRON thro' Life, and from thy Birth my Friend, 
 Dorset, to Thee this Fable let Me send : 
 With Damon's Lightness weigh Thy solid Worth ; 
 The Foil is known to set the Diamond forth : 
 Let the feign'd Tale this real Moral give, 
 How many Damons, how few Dorsets Live. 
 
 79
 
 MATTHEW PRIOR 
 
 COLIN's 
 MISTAKES. 
 
 Written in Imitation of Spenser's Style. 
 
 Me ludit Amabilis 
 
 Insania. Hor. 
 
 FAST by the Banks of Cam was Colin bred : 
 Ye Nymphs, for ever guard That sacred Stream, 
 To Wimpole\ woody Shade his Way he sped : 
 Flourish those Woods, the Muses endless Theme ! 
 As whilom Colin ancient Books had read, 
 Lays Greek and Roman wou'd he oft rehearse, 
 And much he lov'd, and much by heart he said 
 What Father Spenser sung in British Verse. 
 Who reads that Bard desires like Him to write, 
 Still fearful of Success, still tempted by Delight. 
 
 II. 
 
 Soon as Aurora had unbarr'd the Morn, 
 And Light discover'd Nature's chearful Face ; 
 The sounding Clarion, and the sprightly Horn 
 Call'd the blyth Huntsmen to the distant Chace. 
 Eftsoons They issue forth, a goodly Band; 
 The deep-mouth'd Hounds with Thunder rend the Air; 
 The fiery Coursers strike the rising Sand ; 
 Far thro' the Thicket flies the frighted Deer; 
 Harley the Honour of the Day supports; 
 His Presence glads the Wood; His Orders guide the Sports. 
 
 80
 
 COLIN'S MISTAKES 
 
 III. 
 
 On a fair Palfrey well equip't did sit 
 An Amazonian Dame ; a scarlet Vest 
 For adtive Horsemanship adaptly fit 
 Enclos'd her dainty Limbs; a plumed Crest 
 Wav'd o'er her Head ; obedient by her Side 
 Her Friends and Servants rode ; with artful Hand 
 Full well knew She the Steed to turn and guide : 
 The willing Steed receiv'd her soft Command: 
 Courage and Sweetness in her Face were seated ; 
 On Her all Eyes were bent, and all good Wishes waited. 
 
 IV. 
 
 This seeing, Colin thus his Muse bespake : 
 For alltydes was the Muse to Colin nigh, 
 Ah me too nigh ! Or, C/io, I mistake; 
 Or that bright Form that pleaseth so mine Eye, 
 Is Jove's fair Daughter Pallas, gracious Queen 
 Of liberal Arts; with Wonder and Delight 
 In Homer's Verse we read Her ; well I ween, 
 That emu'lous of his Grecian Master's Flight, 
 Dan Spenser makes the fav'rite Goddess known ; 
 When in her graceful Look fair Britomart is shown. 
 
 V. 
 
 At Noon as Colin to the Castle came, 
 Ope'd were the Gates, and right prepar'd the Feast : 
 Appears at Table rich yclad a Dame, 
 The Lord's Delight, and Wonder of the Guest. 
 With Pearl and Jewels was she sumptuous deckt, 
 As well became her Dignity and Place ; 
 But the Beholders mought her Gems neglect, 
 To fix their Eyes on her more lovely Face, 
 Serene with Glory, and with Softness bright : 
 O Beauty sent from Heav'n, to cheer the mortal Sight ! 
 
 VI. 
 
 Liberal Munificence behind her stood ; 
 And decent State obey'd her high Command ; 
 And Charity diffuse of native Good 
 
 P. II. f {
 
 MATTHEW PRIOR 
 
 At once portrayes her Mind, and guides her Hand. 
 As to each Guest some Fruits She deign 'd to lift, 
 And Silence with obliging Parley broke ; 
 How gracious seem'd to each th' imparted Gift ? 
 But how more gracious what the Giver spoke ? 
 Such Ease, such Freedom did her Deed attend, 
 That every Guest rejoic'd, exalted to a Friend. 
 
 VII. 
 
 Quoth Colin ; Clio, if my feeble Sense 
 Can well distinguish Yon illustrious Dame, 
 Who nobly doth such gentle Gifts dispense ; 
 In Latlan Numbers jfuno is her Name, 
 Great Goddess who with Peace and Plenty crown'd, 
 To all that under Sky breathe vital Air 
 Diffuseth Bliss, and thro' the World around 
 Pours wealthy Ease, and scatters joyous Chear ; 
 Certes of Her in semblant Guise I read ; 
 Where Spenser decks his Lays with Glorianas Deed. 
 
 VIII. 
 
 As Colin mus'd at Evening near the Wood ; 
 A Nymph undress'd, beseemeth, by Him past : 
 Down to her Feet her silken Garment flow'd : 
 A Ribbon bound and shap'd her slender Waste : 
 A Veil dependent from her comely Head, 
 And beauteous Plenty of ambrosial Hair, 
 O'er her fair Breast and lovely Shoulders spread, 
 Behind fell loose, and wanton'd with the Air. 
 The smiling Zephyrs call'd their am'rous Brothers : 
 They kiss'd the waving Lawn, and wafted it to Others. 
 
 IX. 
 
 Daisies and Violets rose, where She had trod ; 
 As Flora kind her Roots and Buds had sorted : 
 And led by Hymen^ Wedlock's mystic God, 
 Ten thousand Loves around the Nymph disported. 
 Quoth Colin ; now I ken the Goddess bright, 
 Whom Poets sing : All human Hearts enthrall'd 
 Obey her Pow'r ; her Kindness the Delight 
 82
 
 COLIN'S MISTAKES 
 
 Of Gods and Men ; great Venus She is call'd, 
 When Mantuan Virgil doth her Charms rehearse ; 
 Belphebe is her Name, in gentle Edmund's Verse. 
 
 X. 
 
 Heard this the Muse, and with a Smile reply'd, 
 Which show'd soft Anger mixt with friendly Love : 
 Twin Sisters still were Ignorance and Pride ; 
 Can we know Right, 'till Error we remove ? 
 But Colin, well I wist, will never learn : 
 Who slights his Guide shall deviate from his Way. 
 Me to have ask'd what Thou coud'st not discern, 
 To Thee pertain'd ; to Me, the Thing to say. 
 What Heavenly Will from human Eye conceals, 
 How can the Bard aread, unless the Muse reveals r 
 
 XL 
 Nor Pal/as thou, nor Britornart hast seen ; 
 When soon at Morn the flying Deer was chac't : 
 Nor "Jove's great Wife, nor Spenser 's Fairy-Queen 
 At Noon-tyde dealt the Honors of the Feast : 
 Nor Venus, nor Belphebe did'st Thou spy, 
 The Evening's Glory, and the Grove's Delight. 
 Henceforth, if ask'd, instructed right, reply, 
 That all the Day to knowing Mortals Sight 
 Bright Candish-Holles-Harley stood confest, 
 As various Hour advis'd, in various Habit drest. 
 
 Consicleratio7is on part of the 88//6 Psalm. 
 
 A College Exercise. 1690. 
 
 1. 
 
 HEAVY, O Lord, on me thy judgments lie, 
 Accurst I am, while God rejects my cry. 
 O'erwhelm'd in darkness and despair I groan ; 
 And ev'ry place is hell ; for God is gone. 
 O ! Lord, arise, and let thy beams controul 
 Those horrid clouds, that press my frighted soul : 
 Save the poor wand'rer from eternal night, 
 Thou that art the God of light. 
 
 F2 83
 
 MATTHEW PRIOR 
 
 II. 
 
 Downward I hasten to my destin'd place ; 
 There none obtain thy aid, or sing thy praise. 
 Soon I shall lie in death's deep ocean drown'd 
 Is mercy there ; or sweet forgiveness found ? 
 O save me yet, whilst on the brink I stand ; 
 Rebuke the storm, and waft my soul to land. 
 O let her rest beneath thy wing secure, 
 Thou that art the God of pow'r. 
 
 III. 
 
 Behold the prodigal ! to thee I come, 
 To hail my father, and to seek my home. 
 Nor refuge could I find, nor friend abroad, 
 Straying in vice, and destitute of God. 
 O let thy terrors, and my anguish end ! 
 Be thou my refuge, and be thou my friend : 
 Receive the son thou didst so long reprove, 
 Thou that art the God of love. 
 
 ON 
 THE TAKING 
 
 OF 
 
 NAMUR, 
 
 1692. 
 
 THE town which Loins bought, Nassau reclaims, 
 And brings instead of bribes avenging flames. 
 Now Loins take thy titles from Above, 
 Boileau shall sing, and we'll believe thee Jove. 
 Jove gained his mistress with alluring gold, 
 But Jove like Thee was impotent and old : 
 Active and young he did like William stand, 
 And stunn'd the Dame, his Thunder in his Hand. 
 
 84
 
 TO 
 
 A CHILD of QUALITY, 
 
 FIVE YEARS OLD, 
 
 The AUTHOR Forty. 
 
 Written in 1704. 
 
 I. 
 
 LORDS, knights, and squires, the num'rous band, 
 That wear the fair miss Mary's fetters, 
 Were summon'd by her high command, 
 To show their passions by their letters. 
 
 II. 
 
 My pen amongst the rest I took, 
 
 Lest those bright eyes that cannot read 
 
 Shou'd dart their kindling fires, and look, 
 The power they have to be obey'd. 
 
 III. 
 
 Nor quality, nor reputation, 
 
 Forbid me yet my flame to tell, 
 Dear five years old befriends my passion, 
 
 And I may write till she can spell. 
 
 IV. 
 
 For while she makes her silk-worms beds, 
 
 With all the tender things I swear, 
 Whilst all the house my passion reads, 
 
 In papers round her baby's hair. 
 
 V. 
 She may receive and own my flame, 
 
 For tho' the strictest prudes shou'd know it, 
 She'll pass for a most virtuous dame, 
 
 And I for an unhappy poet.
 
 s 
 
 MATTHEW PRIOR 
 VI. 
 
 Then too alas ! when she shall tear 
 The lines some younger rival sends, 
 
 She'll give me leave to write I fear, 
 And we shall still continue friends. 
 
 VII. 
 
 For as our different ages move, 
 
 'Tis so ordain'd, wou'd fate but mend it, 
 That I shall be past making love 
 
 When she begins to comprehend it. 
 
 TWO 
 
 RIDDLES. 
 
 I7IO. 
 
 PHINX was a monster that would eat, 
 Whatever stranger she could get ; 
 Unless his ready wit disclos'd 
 The subtle riddle she propos'd. 
 
 Oedipus was resolv'd to go, 
 And try what strength of parts would do : 
 Says Sphinx on this depends your fate ; 
 Tell me what animal is that, 
 Which has four feet at morning bright, 
 Has two at noon, and three at night ? 
 'Tis Man, said he, who weak by nature, 
 At first creeps, like his fellow-creature, 
 Upon all four, as years accrue, 
 With sturdy steps he walks on two : 
 In age, at length, grows weak and sick, 
 For his third leg adopts the stick. 
 
 Now in your turn, 'tis just methinks, 
 You should resolve me, Madam Sphinx, 
 What greater stranger yet is he, 
 Who has four legs, then two, then three ; 
 Then loses one, then gets two more, 
 And runs away at last on four *. 
 * A Prime-Minister. 
 
 86
 
 A 
 
 FABLE. 
 
 Personam Tragicam forte vulpes viderat, 
 
 O quanta species, inquit, cerebrum non habet ! 
 
 Ph^edr. 
 
 THE Fox an aclor's vizard found, 
 And peer'd, and felt, and turn'd it round : 
 Then threw it in contempt away, 
 And thus old Ph^drus heard him say : 
 What noble part canst thou sustain, 
 Thou specious head xvithout a brain ? 
 
 A 
 
 SONG. 
 
 SET BY 
 Mr ABEL. 
 
 READING ends in melancholy, 
 Wine hreeds vices and diseases, 
 Wealth is but care, and love but folly, 
 
 Only Friendship truly pleases : 
 My wealth, my books, my flask, my Molly, 
 Farewel all, if Friendship ceases. 
 
 87
 
 MATTHEW PRIOR 
 
 CONSUMMATION. 
 
 To a Friend. 
 
 WHEN Jove lay blest in his Alcm^ena's charms, 
 Three nights, in One, he prest her in his arms; 
 The sun lay set, and conscious nature strove 
 To shade her God, and to prolong his love. 
 From that auspicious night Alcides came, 
 What less could rise from Jove, and such a Dame ? 
 
 May this auspicious night with that compare, 
 Nor less the joys, nor less the rising heir, 
 He strong as Jove, She like Alcm^ena fair. 
 
 THE 
 
 FORTUNE-TELLER. 
 
 To a YOUNG LADY 
 in search of HER DESTINY. 
 
 YOU, Madam, may with safety go, 
 Decrees of destiny to know. 
 For at your birth kind planets reign'd, 
 And certain happiness ordain'd : 
 Such charms as your's are only given 
 To chosen favourites of heaven. 
 
 But such is my uncertain state, 
 'Tis dangerous to try my fate : 
 For I would only know from art, 
 The future motions of your heart, 
 And what predestinated doom 
 Attends my love for years to come; 
 No secrets else, that mortals learn, 
 My care deserve, or life concern ; 
 But this will so important be,
 
 THE FORTUNE-TELLER 
 
 I dread to search the dark decree : 
 For while the smallest hope remains, 
 Faint joys are mingled with my pains. 
 Vain distant views my fancy please, 
 And give some intermitting ease : 
 But should the stars too plainly show 
 That you have doom'd my endless woe, 
 No human force, nor art, could bear 
 The torment of my wild despair. 
 
 This secret then I dare not know, 
 And other truths are useless now. 
 What matters, if unblest in love, 
 How long or short my life will prove ? 
 To gratify what low desire, 
 Should I with needless haste enquire, 
 How great, how wealthy, I shall be r 
 O ! what is wealth or pow'r to me ? 
 If I am happy, or undone, 
 It must proceed from You alone. 
 
 AN 
 
 ENIGMA. 
 
 BY birth I'm a slave, yet can give you a crown, 
 I dispose of all honours, my self having none. 
 I'm obliged by just maxims to govern my life, 
 Yet I hang my own master, and lie with his wife. 
 When men are a gaming, I cunningly sneak, 
 And their cudgels and shovels away from them take. 
 Fair maidens and ladies, I by the hand get, 
 And pick off their diamonds, tho' ne'er so well set. 
 For when I have comrades, we rob in whole bands, 
 Then presently take off" your lands from your hands. 
 But this fury once over, I've such winning arts, 
 That you love me much more than you do your own hearts. 
 
 89
 
 MATTHEW PRIOR 
 
 CUPID 
 
 turned STROLLER. 
 
 FROM 
 
 A NACRE ON, 
 
 ODE III. 
 
 AT dead of night, when stars appear, 
 And strong Bootes turns the Bear ; 
 When mortals sleep their cares away, 
 Fatigu'd with labours of the day, 
 Cupid was knocking at my gate ; 
 Who's there, says I, who knocks so late ? 
 Disturbs my dreams, and breaks my rest ? 
 
 fear not me a harmless guest, 
 He said, but open, open pray; 
 
 A foolish child, I've lost my way, 
 And wander here this moon-light night, 
 All wet and cold, and wanting light. 
 With due regard his voice I heard, 
 Then rose, a ready lamp prepar'd, 
 And saw a naked boy below, 
 With wings, a quiver, and a bow : 
 In haste I ran, unlockt my gate, 
 Secure and thoughtless of my fate ; 
 
 1 set the Child an easy chair 
 Against the fire, and dry'd his hair ; 
 Brought friendly cups of chearful wine, 
 And warm'd his little hands with mine; 
 All this did I with kind intent ; 
 
 But he, on wanton mischief bent 
 Said, dearest friend, this bow you see, 
 This pretty bow belongs to me : 
 Observe, I pray, if all be right, 
 I fear the rain has spoil'd it quite : 
 
 90
 
 CUPID TURNED STROLLER 
 
 He drew it then, and strait I found 
 Within my hreast a secret wound. 
 This done, the rogue no longer staid, 
 But leapt away, and laughing said, 
 Kind host adieu, we now must part, 
 Safe is my bow, but sick thy heart. 
 
 SNUFF. 
 
 AN EPIGRAM. 
 
 JOVE once resolv'd (the Females to degrade) 
 To propagate their Sex without their aid. 
 His brain conceiv'd, and soon the pangs, and throws 
 He felt, nor could th' unnatural birth disclose : 
 At last when try'd, no remedy would do, 
 The God took Snuff, and out the Goddess flew. 
 
 DAPHNE and APOLLO. 
 
 IMITATED. 
 
 Nympha, Precor, Penei mane. 
 
 Ovid. Met. Lib. I. 
 
 APOLLO. 
 
 ABATE, fair fugitive, abate thy speed, 
 Dismiss thy fears, and turn thy beauteous head, 
 With kind regard a panting lover view, 
 Less swiftly fly, less swiftly I'll pursue; 
 Pathless alas, and rugged is the ground, 
 Some stone may hurt thee, or some thorn may wound. 
 
 DAPHNE. {Aside.) 
 
 This care is for himself, as sure as death, 
 One mile has put the fellow out of breath ; 
 He'll never do, I'll lead him t' other round, 
 Washy he is, perhaps not over sound. 
 
 9 1
 
 MATTHEW PRIOR 
 
 APOLLO. 
 
 You fly, alas, not knowing who you fly, 
 Nor ill bred swain, nor rusty clown am I; 
 I Claros-isle, and Tenedos command 
 
 DAPHNE. 
 Thank ye, I wou'd not leave my native land. 
 
 APOLLO. 
 What is to come, by certain arts I know : 
 
 DAPHNE. 
 
 Pish, Partridge has as fair pretence as you. 
 
 APOLLO. 
 
 Behold the beauties of my locks. (Daph.) A fig — 
 That may be counterfeit, a Spanish-Wig; 
 Who cares for all that bush of curling hair, 
 Whilst your smooth chin is so extremely bare. 
 
 APOLLO. 
 
 I sing. (Daph.) That never shall be Daphne's choice, 
 Syphacio had an admirable voice. 
 
 APOLLO. 
 Of ev 'ry herb I tell the mystic pow'r, 
 To certain health the patient I restore, 
 Sent for, caress'd ; (Daph.) Ours is a wholsome air, 
 You'd better go to town and practise there : 
 For me, I've no obstructions to remove, 
 I'm pretty well, I thank your father Jove, 
 And physic is a weak ally to love. 
 
 APOLLO. 
 
 For learning fam'd fine verses I compose, 
 
 DAPHNE. 
 So do your brother quacks and brother beaux, 
 Memorials only, and reviews write prose. 
 
 APOLLO. 
 From the bent yew I send the pointed reed, 
 Sure of its aim, and fatal in its speed. 
 
 -92
 
 DAPHNE AND APOLLO 
 
 DAPHNE. 
 
 Then leaving me whom sure you wou'd n't kill, 
 In yonder thicket exercise your skill, 
 Shoot there at beasts, but for the human heart 
 Your cousin Cupid has the only dart. 
 
 APOLLO. 
 
 Yet turn, O beauteous maid, yet deign to hear 
 A love-sick Deity's impetuous pray'r; 
 O let me woo thee as thou wou'dst be woo'd, 
 
 DAPHNE. 
 
 First therefore don't be so extremely rude ; 
 Don't tear the hedges down, and tread the clover, 
 Like a hobgoblin rather than a lover; 
 Next to my father's grotto sometimes come, 
 At ebbing tide he always is at home. 
 Read the Courant with him, and let him know 
 A little politics, how matters go 
 Upon his brother-rivers Rhine or Po. 
 As any maid or footman comes or goes 
 Pull off your hat, and ask how Daphne does : 
 These sort of folks will to each other tell 
 That you respecl me ; That, you know, looks well 
 Then if you are, as you pretend, the God 
 That rules the day, and much upon the road, 
 You'll find a hundred trifles in your way, 
 That you may bring one home from Africa; 
 Some little rarity, some bird, or beast, 
 And now and then a jewel from the east, 
 A lacquer'd-cabinet, some China-ware, 
 You have them mighty cheap at Pekin-fair. 
 Next, Nota Bene, you shall never rove, 
 Nor take example by your father Jove. 
 Last, for the ease and comfort of my life, 
 Make me your, lord what startles you, your wife; 
 I'm now, they say, sixteen, or something more, 
 We mortals seldom live above fourscore ; 
 
 93
 
 MATTHEW PRIOR 
 
 Fourscore, y' are good at numbers, let us see, 
 Seventeen suppose, remaining sixty-three, 
 Aye, in that span of time, you'll bury me. 
 Mean time if you have tumult, noise, and strife, 
 Things not abhorrent to a marry'd life, 
 They'll quickly end you see, what signify 
 A few odd years to you that never die ; 
 And after all y' are half your time away, 
 You know your business takes you up all day, 
 And coming late to bed you need not fear, 
 Whatever noise I make, you'll sleep, my dear. 
 Or if a winter-evening shou'd be long 
 E'en read you physic book, or make a song. 
 Your steeds, your wife, diachalon, and rhime, 
 May take up any honest God- head's time, 
 Thus, as you like it, you may love again, 
 And let another Daphne have her reign, 
 Now love, or leave, my dear: retreat, or follow, 
 I Daphne, this premis'd, take thee Apollo, 
 And may I split into ten thousand trees 
 If I give up, on other terms than these. 
 
 She said, but what the am'rous God reply'd, 
 So fate ordain'd, is to our search deny'd, 
 By rats alas ! the manuscript is eat, 
 O cruel banquet which we all regret; 
 Bavius, thy labours must this work restore, 
 May thy good will be equal to thy pow'r. 
 
 94
 
 PROLOGUE, 
 
 SPOKEN BY 
 
 Lord BUCKHURST, 
 
 AT 
 
 WESTMINSTER-SCHOOL, 
 
 At a Representation of Mr Dryden's CLEO- 
 
 MENES, The Spartan HERO. 
 
 At Christmas. 1695. 
 
 PISH, lord, I wish this Prologue was but Greek, 
 Then young Cleonidas would boldly speak : 
 But can Lord Buckhurst in poor English say, 
 Gentle spectators pray excuse the play ? 
 No, witness all ye Gods of ancient Greece, 
 Rather than condescend to terms like these, 
 I'd go to school six hours on Christmas-day, 
 Or construe Persius while my comrades play. 
 Such work by hireling actors should be done, 
 Who tremble when they see a critic frown. 
 Poor rogues that smart like fencers for their bread, 
 And if they are not wounded are not fed. 
 But, Sirs, our labour has more noble ends, 
 We adl our Tragedy to see our Friends : 
 Our gen'rous scenes are for pure love repeated, 
 And if you are not pleas'd, at least your treated. 
 The candles and the cloaths our selves we bought, 
 Our Tops neglected, and our Balls forgot. 
 To learn our parts we left our midnight bed, 
 Most of you snored whilst Cleomenes read ; 
 Not that from this confession we would sue 
 Praise undeserv'd j we know our selves and you: 
 Resolv'd to stand or perish by our cause, 
 We neither censure fear, or beg applause, 
 For those are Westminster and Sparta's laws. 
 
 95
 
 MATTHEW PRIOR 
 
 Yet if we see some judgment well inclin'd, 
 To young desert, and growing virtue kind, 
 That critic by ten thousand marks should know, 
 That greatest souls to goodness only bow ; 
 And that your little Hero does inherit 
 Not Cleomenes more than Dorset's spirit. 
 
 [THE SECRETARY.] 
 
 Written at the HAGUE, 
 In the year 1696. 
 
 WHILE with labour assid'ous due pleasure I mix, 
 And in one day atone for the bus'ness of six, 
 In a little Dutch-chaise on a Saturday night, 
 On my left hand my Horace, a Nymph on my right. 
 No Memoire to compose, and no Post-Boy to move, 
 That on Sunday may hinder the softness of love ; 
 For her, neither visits, nor parties of tea, 
 Nor the long-winded cant of a dull refugee. 
 This night and the next shall be her's, shall be mine, 
 To good or ill fortune the third we resign : 
 Thus scorning the world, and superior to fate, 
 I drive on my car in processional state ; 
 So with Phia thro' Athens Pysistratus rode, 
 Men thought her Minerva, and him a new God. 
 But why should I stories of Athens rehearse, 
 Where people knew love, and were partial to verse, 
 Since none can with justice my pleasures oppose, 
 In Holland half drowned in int'rest and prose : 
 By Greece and past ages, what need I be try'd, 
 When the Hague and the present, are both on my side, 
 And is it enough, for the joys of the day ; 
 To think what Anacreon, or Sappho would say. 
 When good Vandergoes, and his provident Vrough, 
 As they gaze on my triumph, do freely allow, 
 That search all the province, you'd find no man there is 
 So bless'd as the Englhhen Heer SECRETARIS. 
 
 96
 
 THE 
 
 MICE 
 
 A 
 
 TALE. 
 
 TO 
 Mr ADRIAN DRIFT, 
 
 in the Year 1708 — 9. 
 
 TWO Mice (dear boy) of genteel fashion, 
 And (what is more) good education, 
 Frolic and gay, in infant years, 
 Equally shar'd their parents cares. 
 The sire of these two babes (poor creature) 
 Paid his last debt to human nature ; 
 A wealthy widow left behind, 
 Four babes, three male, one female kind. 
 The sire b'ing under ground, and bury'd, 
 'Twas thought his spouse would soon have marry'd ; 
 Matches propos'd, and num'rous suitors, 
 Most tender husbands, careful tutors, 
 She modestly refus'd ; and show'd 
 She'd be a mother to her brood. 
 
 Mother, dear mother, that endearing thought, 
 Has thousand, and ten thousand, fancies brought ; 
 Tell me, O ! tell me (thou art now above) 
 How to describe thy true maternal love, 
 Thy early pangs, thy growing anxious cares, 
 Thy flatt'ring hopes, thy fervent pious pray 'rs, 
 Thy doleful days, and melancholy nights, 
 Cloyster'd from common joys, and just delights: 
 
 p. 11. G 97
 
 MATTHEW PRIOR 
 
 How thou didst constantly in private mourn, 
 And wash with daily tears thy spouse's urn ; 
 How it employ'd your thoughts, and lucid time, 
 That your young offspring might to honour climb ; 
 How your first care by num'rous griefs opprest, 
 Under the burthen sunk, and went to rest ; 
 How your dear darling, by consumption's waste, 
 Breath'd her last piety into your breast ; 
 How you alas ! tyr'd with your pilgrimage, 
 Bow'd down your head, and dy'd in good old age. 
 Tho' not inspir'd, O ! may I never be 
 Forgetful of my pedigree, or thee, 
 Ungrateful howsoe'er, mayn't I forget 
 To pay this small, yet tributary debt, 
 And when we meet at God's tribunal throne, 
 Own me, I pray thee, for a pious son. 
 
 But why all this ? is this your fable ? 
 Believe me Matt, it seems a bauble, 
 If you will let me know th' intent on't, 
 Go to your Mice, and make an end on't. 
 
 Well then dear brother, 
 
 As sure as Hudi's sword could swaddle, 
 Two Mice were brought up in one cradle, 
 Well bred, I think, of equal port, 
 One for the gown, one for the court : 
 They parted, (did they so an't please you) 
 Yes, that they did (dear Sir) to ease you ; 
 One went to Holland, where they huff folk, 
 T' other to vent his wares in Suffolk. 
 (That Mice have travell'd in old times, 
 Horace and Prior tell in rhymes, 
 Those two great wonders of their ages, 
 Superior far to all the sages.) 
 Many days past, and many a night, 
 E'er they could gain each other's sight ; 
 At last in weather cold (not sultry) 
 They met at the Three-Cranes in Poultry. 
 After much buss, and great grimace, 
 (Usual you know in such a case) 
 
 98
 
 THE MICE 
 
 Much chat arose, what had been done, 
 What might before next summer's sun ; 
 Much said of France, of Suffolk's goodness, 
 The gentry's loyalty, mobbs rudeness, 
 That ended ; o'er a charming bottle, 
 They enter'd on this tittle tattle. 
 
 Quoth Suffolk, by preheminence 
 In years, tho' (God knows) not in sense ; 
 All's gone dear brother, only we 
 Remain to raise posterity ; 
 Marry you brother ; I'll go down, 
 Sell nouns and verbs, and lie alone. 
 May you ne'er meet with feuds or babble, 
 May olive-branches crown your table, 
 Somewhat I'll save, and for this end, 
 To prove a brother, and a friend. 
 What I propose is just, I swear it, 
 Or may I perish by this claret. 
 The dice are thrown, chuse this or that, 
 ('Tis all alike to honest Matt) 
 I'll take then the contrary part, 
 And propagate with all my heart. 
 After some thought, some Portugueze, 
 Some wine, the younger thus replies. 
 
 Fair are your words, as fair your carr'age, 
 Let me be free, drudge you in marr'age, 
 Get me a boy call'd Adrian, 
 Trust me, I'll do for't what I can. 
 Home went well pleas'd the Suffolk tony, 
 Heart-free from care, as purse from money, 
 Resolving full to please his taudy, 
 He got a spouse, and jerk'd her body ; 
 At last when teeming time was come, 
 Out came her burthen from her womb, 
 It prov'd a lusty squalling boy, 
 (Doubtless the dad's and mammy's joy.) 
 In short, to make things square and even, 
 Adrian he nam'd was by Dick, Stephen. 
 
 G 2 
 
 99
 
 MATTHEW PRIOR 
 
 Matt's debt thus paid, he now enlarges, 
 
 And sends you in a bill of charges, 
 
 A cradle (brother) and a basket, 
 
 (Granted as soon as e'er I ask'd it) 
 
 A coat not of the smallest scantling, 
 
 Frocks, stockings, shoes, to grace the bantling, 
 
 These too were sent, (or I'm no drubber) 
 
 Nay add to these the fine gum-rubber ; 
 
 Yet these wo'nt do, send t' other coat, 
 
 For (faith) the first e'nt worth a groat, 
 
 Dismally shrunk, as herrings shotten, 
 
 Suppos'd originally rotten. 
 
 Pray let the next be each way longer, 
 
 Of stuff more durable, and stronger ; 
 
 Send it next week, if you are able, 
 
 By this time, Sir, you know the fable ; 
 
 From this, and letters of the same make, 
 
 You'll find what 'tis to have a name-sake. 
 
 Cold and hard times, Sir, here, (believe it) 
 I've lost my curate too, and grieve it, 
 At Easter, for what I can see, 
 (A time of ease and vacancy) 
 If things but alter, and not undone, 
 I'll kiss your hands, and visit London ; 
 Molly sends greeting, so do I Sir, 
 Send a good coat, that's all, good b'ye Sir. 
 
 Tours entirely^ 
 
 MATTHEW. 
 
 Wednesday Night, 
 
 10 o Clocks Feb. 1 6, i7o|-. 
 
 ioo
 
 THE 
 
 VICEROY. 
 
 A BALLAD. 
 TO 
 
 The Tune of The Lady Isabella's Tragedy 
 
 Or: The Step-Mother's Cruelty. 
 
 Written in 1714. 
 
 OF Nero, tyrant, petty king, 
 Who hertofore did reign 
 In fam'd Hi hernia, I will sing, 
 And in a ditty plain. 
 
 II. 
 
 He hated was by rich and poor, 
 For reasons you shall hear, 
 
 So ill he exercis'd his pow'r, 
 That he himself did fear. 
 
 III. 
 
 Full proud and arrogant was he, 
 
 And covetous withal, 
 The guilty he would still set free, 
 
 But guiltless men enthral. 
 
 IV. 
 
 He with a haughty impious nod 
 Would curse and dogmatize, 
 
 Not fearing either man or God, 
 Gold he did idolize. 
 
 
 ] 
 
 [01 
 
 
 : ' 
 
 V 
 
 
 
 UNlVEf 
 
 ■ 
 
 - 
 
 nia 
 
 r r. 
 
 ^r 
 

 
 MATTHEW PRIOR 
 V. 
 
 A patriot of high degree, 
 
 Who could no longer bear 
 This upstart Viceroy's tyranny, 
 
 Against him did declare. 
 
 VI. 
 
 And arm'd with truth impeach'd the Don, 
 
 Of his enormous crimes, 
 Which I'll unfold to you anon, 
 
 In low, but faithful rimes. 
 
 VII. 
 
 The articles* recorded stand, 
 
 Against this peerless peer, 
 Search but the archives of the land, 
 
 You'll find them written there. 
 
 VIII. 
 
 Attend, and justly I'll recite 
 
 His treasons to you all, 
 The heads set in their native light, 
 
 (And sigh poor Gaphny's fall.) 
 
 IX. 
 
 That trait'rously he did abuse 
 
 The pow'r in him repos'd, 
 And wickedly the same did use, 
 
 On all mankind impos'd. 
 
 X. 
 
 That he, contrary to all law, 
 An oath did frame and make, 
 
 Compelling the militia, 
 Th' illegal oath to take. 
 
 * Sabbati 16. die Decembris 5 Gulielmi (Sr* Maria: 1693. 
 
 102
 
 THE VICEROY 
 XI. 
 
 Free-quarters for the army too, 
 
 He did exacl and force, 
 On Protestants, his love to show, 
 
 Than Papists us'd them worse. 
 
 XII. 
 
 On all provisions destin'd for 
 
 The camp at Limerick, 
 He laid a tax full hard and sore, 
 
 Tho' many men were sick. 
 
 XIII. 
 
 The suttlers too he did ordain 
 
 For licences should pay, 
 Which they refus'd with just disdain, 
 
 And fled the camp away. 
 
 XIV. 
 By which provisions were so scant, 
 
 That hundreds there did die, 
 The soldiers food and drink did want, 
 
 Nor famine cou'd they fly. 
 
 XV. 
 
 He so much lov'd his private gain, 
 
 He could nor hear or see, 
 They might, or die, or might complain, 
 
 Without relief pardie. 
 
 XVI. 
 
 That above and against all right, 
 
 By word of mouth did he, 
 In council sitting, hellish spite, 
 
 The farmer's fate decree. 
 
 XVII. 
 
 That he, O ! Ciel, without trial, 
 Straitway shou'd hanged be, 
 
 Tho' then the courts were open all, 
 Yet Nero judge wou'd be. 
 
 103
 
 MATTHEW PRIOR 
 
 XVIII. 
 No sooner said, but it was done, 
 
 The Borreau did his worst, 
 Gaphny alas ! is dead and gone, 
 
 And left his judge accurst. 
 
 XIX. 
 In this concise, despotic way, 
 
 Unhappy Gaphny fell, 
 Which did all honest men affray, 
 
 As truly it might well. 
 
 XX. 
 
 Full two good hundred pounds a year, 
 This poor man's real estate, 
 
 He set'led on his fav'rite dear, 
 And Culliford can say't. 
 
 XXI. 
 
 Besides, he gave five hundred pound 
 To Fielding his own scribe, 
 
 Who was his bail, one friend he found, 
 He ow'd him to the bribe. 
 
 XXII. 
 But for this horrid murder vile, 
 
 None did him prosecute, 
 His old friend helpt him o'er the stile, 
 
 With Satan who'd dispute ? 
 
 XXIII. 
 With France, fair England's mortal foe 
 
 A trade he carry'd on, 
 Had any other don't, I trow, 
 
 To Tripos he had gone. 
 
 XXIV. 
 That he did likewise trait'rously, 
 
 To bring his ends to bear, 
 Enrich himself most knavishly, 
 
 O thief without compare. 
 
 104
 
 THE VICEROY 
 
 XXV. 
 Vast quantities of stores did he 
 
 Embezzel and purloin, 
 Of the King's stores he kept a key, 
 
 Converting them to coin. 
 
 XXVI. 
 
 The forfeited estates also, 
 
 Both real and personal, 
 Did with the stores together go, 
 
 Fierce Cerb'rus swallow'd all. 
 
 XXVII. 
 
 Mean while the soldiers sigh'd and sobb'd, 
 
 For not one souse had they, 
 His Excellenxe' had each man fobb'd, 
 
 For He had sunk their pay. 
 
 XXVIII. 
 Nero, without the least disguise, 
 
 The Papists at all times 
 Still favour'd, and their robberies 
 
 Look'd on as trivial crimes. 
 
 XXIX. 
 The Protestants whom they did rob, 
 
 During his government, 
 Were forc'd with patience, like good Job, 
 
 To rest themselves content. 
 
 XXX. 
 
 For he did basely them refuse 
 
 All legal remedy, 
 The Romans he still well did use, 
 
 Still screen'd their roguery. 
 
 XXXI. 
 Succinctly thus to you I've told, 
 
 How this Viceroy did reign, 
 And other truths I shall unfold, 
 
 For truth is always plain. 
 
 105
 
 MATTHEW PRIOR 
 
 XXXII. 
 The best of Queen's he hath revil'd, 
 
 Before, and since her death, 
 He, cruel and ungrateful, smil'd 
 
 When she resign'd her breath. 
 
 XXXIII. 
 Forgetful of the favours kind, 
 
 She had on him bestow'd, 
 Like Lucifer, his ranc'rous mind, 
 
 He lov'd nor Her nor God. 
 
 XXXIV. 
 
 But listen Nero, lend thy ears, 
 As still thou hast them on ; 
 
 Hear what Britannia says with tears, 
 Of Anna, dead and gone. 
 
 XXXV. 
 " O ! sacred be Her memory, 
 
 " For ever dear Her name, 
 "There never was, or e'er can be, 
 
 "A brighter, juster, Dame. 
 
 XXXVI. 
 " Blest be My Sons, and eke all those, 
 
 "Who on Her praises dwell, 
 " She conquer'd Britain's fiercest foes, 
 
 " She did all Queens excel. 
 
 XXXVII. 
 "All Princes, Kings, and Potentates, 
 
 " Ambassadors did send, 
 " All nations, provinces, and states, 
 
 " Sought Anna for their friend. 
 
 XXXVIII. 
 "In Anna They did all confide, 
 
 " For Anna They could trust, 
 " Her royal faith they all had try'd, 
 
 " For Anna still was just. 
 
 106
 
 THE VICEROY 
 
 XXXIX. 
 " Truth, Mercy, Justice, did surround 
 
 " Her awful judgment-seat, 
 "111 Her the Graces all were found, 
 
 "In Anna all compleat. 
 
 XL. 
 "She held the sword and ballance right, 
 
 "And sought Her people's good, 
 " In clemency she did delight ; 
 
 " Her reign not stain'd with blood. 
 
 XLI. 
 
 " Her gracious goodness, piety 
 
 "In "all her deeds did shine, 
 "And bounteous was her charity, 
 
 " All attributes divine. 
 
 XLII. 
 "Consummate wisdom, meekness all, 
 
 "Adorn'd the words she spoke, 
 "When they from Her fair lips did fall, 
 
 "And sweet her lovely look. 
 
 XLIII. 
 "Ten thousand glorious deeds to crown, 
 
 "She caus'd dire war to cease, 
 "A greater Empress ne'er was known, 
 
 "She fix'd the world in peace. 
 
 XLIV. 
 
 "This last and Godlike-atf: atchiev'd, 
 "To Heav'n She wing'd Her flight, 
 
 "Her loss with tears all Europe griev'd, 
 " Their strength, and dear delight. 
 
 XLV. 
 " Leave we in bliss this heav'nly Saint, 
 
 " Revere ye just Her urn, 
 " Her virtues high and excellent, 
 
 "Astrea gone we mourn. 
 
 107
 
 MATTHEW PRIOR 
 
 XLVI. 
 " Commemorate my Sons the day, 
 
 "Which gave great Anna birth, 
 " Keep it for ever, and for aye, 
 
 "And annual be your mirth." 
 
 XLVII. 
 
 Illustrious George now fills the throne, 
 
 Our wise, benign, good king, 
 Who can his wond'rous deeds make known ? 
 
 Or his bright actions sing ? 
 
 XLVIII. 
 
 Thee, fav'rite Nero, he has deign'd, 
 
 To raise to high degree, 
 Well Thou thy honours hast sustain'd, 
 
 Well voucht Thy ancestry. 
 
 XLIX. 
 But pass — These honours on Thee laid, 
 
 Can they e'er make thee white, 
 Don't Gaphny's blood, which thou hast shed, 
 
 Thy guilty soul affright ? 
 
 L. 
 
 O ! is there not, grim mortal tell, 
 
 Places of bliss and wo ? 
 O ! is there not a Heav'n, a Hell ? 
 
 But whither wilt Thou go ? 
 
 LI. 
 
 Can nought change thy obdurate mind ? 
 
 Wilt Thou for ever rail ? 
 The prophet on Thee well refin'd, 
 
 And set thy wit to sale. 
 
 LII. 
 
 How Thou art lost to sense and shame, 
 
 Three countries witness be, 
 Thy conduit all just men do blame, 
 
 Lib'ra nos Domine. 
 
 108
 
 THE VICEROY 
 
 LIII. 
 Dame Justice waits Thee well I ween, 
 
 Her sword is brandish'd high, 
 Nought can thee from Her vengeance screen, 
 
 Nor can'st Thou from Her fly. 
 
 LIV. 
 Heavy Her ire will fall on Thee, 
 
 The glitt'ring steel is sure, 
 Sooner or later, all agree, 
 
 She cuts ofF the impure. 
 
 LV. 
 
 To Her I leave Thee, gloomy Peer, 
 Think on Thy crimes committed, 
 
 Repent, and be for once sincere, 
 Thou ne'er wilt be De-Witted. 
 
 UPON 
 THIS PASSAGE 
 
 IN 
 
 SCALIGERIANA. 
 
 Les Allemans ne ce soucient pas quel 
 Vin ils boivent pouveu que ce soit 
 Vin, ni quel Latin ils parlent pouveu 
 que ce soit Latin. 
 
 WHEN you with High-Dutch Heeren dine, 
 Expect false Latin, and stumm'd Wine, 
 They never Taste who always Drink, 
 They always Talk who never Think. 
 
 109
 
 MATTHEW PRIOR 
 
 Nell and John. 
 
 An Epigram. 
 I. 
 
 WHEN Nell, given o'er by the doclor, was dying, 
 And John at the chimney stood decently crying, 
 'Tis in vain said the Woman, to make such ado, 
 For to our long home, we must all of us go. 
 
 II. 
 
 True, Nell, reply'd John, but what yet is the worst 
 For us that remain, the best always go first ; 
 Remember, dear wife, that I said so last year, 
 When you lost your white heifer, and I my brown mare. 
 
 BlBO. 
 
 An Epigram. 
 
 WHEN Bibo thought fit from the world to retreat, 
 As full of Champagne, as an egg's full of meat ; 
 He walc'd in the boat, and to Charon he said, 
 He wou'd be row'd back, for he was not yet dead. 
 Trim the boat, and sit quiet, stern Charon reply'd, 
 You may have forgot, you were drunk when you dy'd. 
 
 Gabriel and his Wives. 
 
 An Epigram. 
 I. 
 
 O DEATH how thou spoil'st the best projects of life, 
 Said Gabriel, who still as he bury'd One wife, 
 For the sake of her family marry'd her cousin ; 
 
 II. 
 
 And thus in an honest collateral line, 
 
 He still marry'd on till his number was Nine, 
 
 Full sorry to die till he made up his Dozen. 
 
 no
 
 Silvia. 
 
 An Epigram. 
 
 HER time with equal prudence Silvia shares, 
 First writes her Billet-doux, then says her pray'rs, 
 Her mass and toilet ; vespers, and the play ; 
 Thus God and Ashtaroth divide the day : 
 Constant she keeps her Ember-week, and Lent, 
 At Easter calls all Israel to her tent : 
 Loose without band, and pious without zeal, 
 She still repeats the sins she would conceal ; 
 Envy her self from Silvia's life must grant, 
 An artful woman makes a modern saint. 
 
 Richard and Nelly. 
 
 An Epigram. 
 
 QUOTH Richard in jest, looking wistly at Nelly, 
 Methinks child you seem something round in the belly 
 Nell answer'd him snapishly, How can that be ? 
 My husband has been more than two years at sea. 
 Thy husband ! quoth Dick, why that matter was carry 'd 
 Most secretly, Nell, I ne'er thought thou wer't marry'd. 
 
 CUPID 
 
 IN 
 AMBUSH. 
 
 IT oft to many has successful been, 
 Upon his arm to let his mistress lean, 
 Or with her airy fan to cool her heat, 
 Or gently squeeze her knees, or press her feet. 
 All public sports to favour young desire, 
 With opportunities like this conspire ; 
 Ev'n where his skill, the Gladiator shows, 
 With human blood, where the Arena flows. 
 
 in
 
 MATTHEW PRIOR 
 
 There oftentimes love's quiver-bearing-Boy, 
 Prepares his bow and arrows to destroy : 
 While the spectator gazes on the fight, 
 And sees 'em wound each other with delight. 
 While he his pretty mistress entertains, 
 And wagers with her who the conquest gains ; 
 Slily the God takes aim and hits his heart, 
 And in the wounds he sees he bears his part. 
 
 Nannette. 
 
 A Song. 
 I. 
 
 HASTE my Nannette, my lovely maid, 
 Haste to the bower, thy swain has made. 
 
 II. 
 
 For thee alone I made the bower, 
 
 And strew'd the couch with many a flower. 
 
 III. 
 None but my Sheep shall near us come, 
 Venus be prais'd, my sheep are dumb. 
 
 IV. 
 
 Great God of love, take thou my crook, 
 To keep the wolf from Nannette's flock. 
 
 V. 
 Guard thou the sheep, to her so dear, 
 My own, alas ! are less my care. 
 
 VI. 
 
 But of the wolf, if thou'rt afraid, 
 Come not to us to call for aid. 
 
 VII. 
 For with her swain my love shall stay, 
 Tho' the wolf strole, and the sheep stray. 
 
 112
 
 The Priest and the Shepherd, 
 
 An Imitation 
 of A 
 
 GREEK EPIGRAM. 
 
 WHEN hungry wolves had trespass'd on the fold, 
 And the robb'd shepherd his sad story told ; 
 " Call in Alcides, said a crafty priest, 
 "Give him one half, and he'll secure the rest." 
 No, said the shepherd, if the Fates decree, 
 By ravaging my flock to ruin me ; 
 To their commands I willingly resign, 
 Pow'r is their character, and patience mine : 
 Tho', troth to me, there seems but little odds, 
 Who prove the greatest robbers, wolves or Gods ? 
 
 ON A 
 
 FART, 
 
 LET IN THE 
 HOUSE of COMMONS. 
 
 READER I was born, and cry'd ; 
 I crack'd, I smelt, and so I dy'd. 
 Like Julius Cesar's was My death, 
 Who in the senate lost his breath. 
 Much alike entomb'd does lie 
 The noble Romulus and I ; 
 And when I dy'd, like Flora fair, 
 I left the Common- Wealth my heir 
 
 P. II. H II 3
 
 MATTHEW PRIOR 
 On Hall'j Death. 
 
 An Epigram. 
 
 POOR Hall caught his death standing under a spout, 
 Expecting till midnight, when Nan would come out ; 
 But fatal his patience, as cruel the Dame, 
 And curst was the Weather that quench'd the Man's flame. 
 "Who e'er thou art that reads these moral lines, 
 " Make love at home, and go to bed betimes." 
 
 Prometheus. 
 
 An Epigram. 
 
 Prometheus forming Mr Day, 
 Carv'd something like a man in clay. 
 The mortal's work might well miscarry ; 
 
 He that does heav'n and earth controul, 
 
 Has only pow'r to form a soul, 
 His hand is evident in Harry. 
 
 Since One is but a moving clod, 
 
 T'Other the lively form of God, 
 'Squire Wallis, you will scare be able, 
 
 To prove all poetry but fable. 
 
 THE 
 WANDERING PILGRIM. 
 
 HUMBLY ADDRESSED TO 
 Sir Thomas Frankland, Bar*. 
 
 Post-Master, and Pay-Master-General to 
 
 Queen Anne. 
 
 I. 
 
 WILL Piggot must to Coxwould go, 
 To live, alas ! in want, 
 Unless Sir Thomas say No, no, 
 Th' Allowance is too scant. 
 
 114
 
 THE WANDERING PILGRIM 
 II. 
 
 The gracious Knight full well does weet, 
 
 Ten farthings ne'er will do, 
 To keep a man each day in meat, 
 
 Some bread to meat is due. 
 
 III. 
 A Rechabite poor Will must live, 
 
 And drink of Adam's ale, 
 Pure-Element, no life can give, 
 
 Or mortal soul regale. 
 
 IV. 
 
 Spare diet, and spring-water clear, 
 
 Physicians hold are good ; 
 Who diet's thus need never fear, 
 
 A fever in the blood. 
 
 V. 
 
 Gra'mercy, Sirs, y'are in the right, 
 
 Prescriptions All can sell, 
 But he that does not eat can't sh* * * 
 
 Or piss if good drink fail. 
 
 VI. 
 
 But pass — The iEsculapian-Crew, 
 
 Who eat and quaff the best, 
 They seldom miss to bake and brew, 
 
 Or lin to break their fast. 
 
 VII. 
 Could Yorkshire-Tyke but do the same, 
 
 Than He like Them might thrive, 
 But Fortune, Fortune, cruel Dame, 
 
 To starve Thou do'st Him drive. 
 
 VIII. 
 In Will's Old master's plenteous days, 
 
 His mem'ry e'er be blest ; 
 What need of speaking in his praise, 
 
 His goodness stands confest. 
 
 h 2 115
 
 MATTHEW PRIOR 
 
 IX. 
 At His fam'd gate stood Charity, 
 
 In lovely sweet array, 
 Ceres, and Hospitality, 
 
 Dwelt there both night and day. 
 
 X. 
 
 But to conclude, and be concise, 
 
 Truth must Will's voucher be, 
 Truth never yet went in disguise, 
 
 For naked still is She. 
 
 XI. 
 There is but One, but One alone, 
 
 Can set the Pilgrim free, 
 And make him cease to pine and moan, 
 
 O ! Frankland it is Thee. 
 
 XII. 
 O ! save him from a dreary way, 
 
 To Coxwould he must hye, 
 Bereft of thee he wends astray, 
 
 At Coxwould he must dye. 
 
 XIII. 
 O ! let him in thy hall but stand, 
 
 And wear a porter's gown, 
 Duteous to what Thou may'st command, 
 
 Thus William's wishes crown. 
 
 THE 
 
 ADVICE 
 
 OF 
 
 VENUS. 
 
 THUS to the Muses Spoke the Cyprian-Dame ; 
 Adorn my altars, and revere my name. 
 My Son shall else assume his potent darts, 
 Twang goes the bow, my Girls, have at your hearts. 
 
 116
 
 THE ADVICE OF VENUS 
 
 The Muses answer'd, — Venus we deride, 
 The Vagrant's malice, and his Mother's pride. 
 Send him to Nymphs who sleep on Ida's shade, 
 To the loose dance, and wanton masquerade : 
 Our thoughts are setled, and intent our look, 
 On the instructive verse, and moral book ; 
 On female idleness his pow'r relies, 
 But when he finds us studying-hard he flies. 
 
 CUPID 
 
 TURNED 
 
 PLOWMAN. 
 
 FROM THE 
 
 GREEK 
 
 OF 
 
 MOSCHUS. 
 
 HIS lamp, his bow, and quiver, laid aside, 
 A rustic wallet o'er his shoulders ty'd : 
 Sly Cupid always on new mischief bent, 
 To the rich field, and furrow'd tillage went. 
 Like any Plowman toil'd the little God, 
 His tune he whistled, and his wheat he sow'd ; 
 Then sat and laugh'd, and to the skies above 
 Raising his eye, he thus insulted Jove. 
 Lay by your hail, your hurtful storms restrain, 
 And, as I bid you, let it shine or rain. 
 Else you again beneath my yoke shall bow, 
 Feel the sharp goad, and draw the servile plow, 
 What once Europa was Nannette is now. 
 
 117
 
 MATTHEW PRIOR 
 
 HUSBAND 
 
 AND 
 
 WIFE. 
 
 AN 
 EPIGRAM. 
 
 H. f~\ WITH what woes am I opprest ! 
 V_y TV. Be still you senseless Calf: 
 What if the Gods should make you blest ? 
 
 H. Why then I'd sing and laugh : 
 But if they won't, I'll wail, and cry. 
 W. You'll hardly laugh, before you die. 
 
 TO 
 
 FORTUNE. 
 
 ANOTHER. 
 
 WHILST I in Prison on a Court look down, 
 Nor beg thy favour, nor deserve thy frown, 
 In vain malicious Fortune, hast thou try'd, 
 By taking from my state to quell my Pride : 
 Insulting Girl, thy present rage abate ; 
 And would'st thou have me humble, make me Great. 
 
 CHAST 
 
 FLORIMEL. 
 
 i. 
 
 O, I'll endure ten thousand deaths, 
 E'er any farther I comply ; 
 O ! Sir, no man on earth that breathes, 
 Had ever yet his hand so high. 
 
 118 
 
 N
 
 CHAST FLORIMEL 
 II. 
 
 O ! take your sword and pierce my heart, 
 
 Undaunted see me meet the wound ; 
 O ! will you act a Tarquin's part ? 
 
 A second Lucrece you have found. 
 
 III. 
 
 Thus to the pressing Corydon, 
 
 Poor Florimel, unhappy maid, 
 Fearing by love to be undone, 
 
 In broken, dying, accents said. 
 
 IV. 
 Delia, who held the conscious door, 
 
 Inspir'd by truth and brandy, smil'd, 
 Knowing that sixteen months before, 
 
 Our Lucrece had her second child. 
 
 V. 
 And, hark ye, Madam, cry'd the bawd, 
 
 None of your flights, your high-rope dodging ; 
 Be civil here, or march abroad ; 
 
 Oblige the 'Squire, or quit the lodging. 
 
 VI. 
 
 O ! have I, Florimel went on, 
 
 Have I then lost my Delia's aid ? 
 Where shall forsaken virtue run, 
 
 If by her friends she is betray'd ? 
 
 VII. 
 O ! curse on empty friendship's name j 
 
 Lord, what is all our future view ? 
 Then, dear destroyer of my fame, 
 
 Let my last succour be to you. 
 
 VIII. 
 From Delia's rage, and Fortune's frown, 
 
 A wretched love-sick maid deliver ; 
 O ! tip me but another Crown, 
 
 Dear Sir, and make me Your's for ever. 
 
 119
 
 MATTHEW PRIOR 
 PARTIAL 
 
 FAME. 
 
 i. 
 
 THE sturdy Man if he in love obtains, 
 In open pomp and triumph reigns ; 
 The subtil Woman if she should succeed, 
 Disowns the honour of the deed. 
 
 II. 
 
 Tho' He for all his boast, is forc'd to yield, 
 
 Tho' She can always keep the field, 
 He vaunts His Conquest, She conceals Her Shame ; 
 
 How Partial is the voice of Fame ? 
 
 A 
 
 SONG. 
 
 SET BY 
 Mr PURCEL. 
 
 i. 
 
 WHITHER would my passion run, 
 Shall I fly Her, or pursue Her? 
 Losing Her I am undone, 
 
 Yet would not gain Her to undo Her. 
 
 II. 
 
 Ye tyrants of the human breast, 
 Love and Reason ! cease your war, 
 
 And order Death to give me rest ; 
 So each will equal triumph share. 
 
 120
 
 NON PAREIL. 
 
 In Praise of Phyllis. 
 
 I. 
 
 LET others from the town retire, 
 _j And In the fields seek new delight ; 
 My Phillis does such joys inspire, 
 No other objects please my sight. 
 
 II. 
 In Her alone I find whate'er 
 
 Beauties a country-landscape grace ; 
 No shades so lovely as Her hair, 
 
 Nor plain so sweet as is Her face. 
 
 III. 
 Lilies and roses there combine, 
 
 More beauteous than in flow'ry field ; 
 Transparent is Her skin, so fine, 
 
 To this each crystal stream must yield. 
 
 IV. 
 Her voice more sweet than warbling sound, 
 
 Tho' sung by nightingale or lark, 
 Her eyes such lustre dart around, 
 
 Compar'd to them the sun is dark. 
 
 V. 
 Both light and vital heat they give, 
 
 Cherish'd by Them my love takes root, 
 From Her kind looks does life receive, 
 
 Grows a fair plant ; bears flow'rs, and fruit. 
 
 VI. 
 
 Such fruit, I ween, did once deceive 
 
 The common parent of mankind ; 
 And made transgress our mother Eve : 
 
 Poison it's core, tho' fair it's rind. 
 
 VII. 
 Yet so delicious is it's taste, 
 
 I cannot from the bait abstain, 
 But to th' inchanting pleasure haste, 
 Tho' I were sure 'twou'd end in pain. 
 
 121
 
 MATTHEW PRIOR 
 UPON 
 
 HONOUR. 
 
 A 
 FRAGMENT. 
 
 HONOUR, I say, or honest Fame, 
 I mean the substance, not the name 
 (Not that light heap of tawdry wares, 
 Of Ermin, Coronets, and Stars, 
 Which often is by merit sought, 
 By gold and flatt'ry oft'ner bought. 
 The shade, for which Ambition looks, 
 In Selden's or in Ashmole's books :) 
 But the true glory which proceeds, 
 Reflected bright from honest deeds, 
 Which we in our Own breast perceive, 
 And Kings can neither take nor give. 
 
 THE 
 
 OLD GENTRY. 
 
 T 
 
 I. 
 *HAT all from Adam first began, 
 
 None but ungodly Woolston doubts, 
 And that His son, and His son's son, 
 
 Were all but plowmen, clowns, and louts. 
 
 II. 
 Each when his rustic pains began, 
 
 To merit pleaded equal right, 
 'Twas only who left Off" at noon, 
 
 Or who went On to work till night. 
 
 122
 
 THE OLD GENTRY 
 
 III. 
 
 But coronets we owe to crowns, 
 And favour to a court's affection, 
 
 By nature we are Adam's sons, 
 And sons of Anstis by election. 
 
 IV. 
 Kingsale, eight hundred years have roll'd, 
 
 Since thy forefathers held the plow, 
 When this shall be in story told, 
 
 Add, That my kindred do so now. 
 
 V. 
 
 The man who by his labour gets 
 His bread, in independant state, 
 
 Who never begs, and seldom eats, 
 Himself can fix, or change his fate. 
 
 THE 
 
 INCURABLE. 
 
 AN 
 EPIGRAM. 
 
 PHILLIS you boast of perfect health in vain, 
 And laugh at those who of their ills complain 
 That with a frequent fever Ci.oe burns, 
 And Stella's plumpness into dropsy turns. 
 
 ! Phillis, while the patients are nineteen, 
 Little, alas ! are their distempers seen. 
 
 But Thou for all Thy seeming health art ill, 
 Beyond thy lover's hopes, or Blackmore's skill ; 
 No lenitives can thy disease asswage, 
 
 1 tell Thee, 'Tis incurable — 'tis Age. 
 
 123
 
 MATTHEW PRIOR 
 THE 
 
 Insatiable PRIEST. 
 
 i. 
 
 LUKE Preach-Ill, admires what we laymen can mean, 
 _, That thus by our profit and pleasure are sway'd ; 
 He has but three livings, and would be a Dean, 
 His wife dy'd this year, He has marry'd His maid. 
 
 II. 
 To suppress all His carnal desires in their birth, 
 
 At all hours a lusty young hussy is near ; 
 And to take off His thought from the things of this earth, 
 
 He can be content with two thousand a year. 
 
 DOCTORS Differ. 
 
 AN 
 EPIGRAM. 
 
 WHEN Willis of Ephraim heard Rochester preach, 
 Thus Bently said to him, I pr'ythee, dear brother, 
 How lik'st Thou this Sermon ? 'tis out of My reach, 
 
 His is One way, said Willis, and Ours is Another. 
 I care not for carping, but this I can tell, 
 We preach very sadly, if he preaches well. 
 
 PONTIUS 
 
 AND 
 PONTIA. 
 
 i. 
 
 PONTIUS, (who loves you know a joke, 
 Much better than he loves his life) 
 Chanc'd t'other morning to provoke 
 The patience of a well-bred wife. 
 
 124
 
 PONTIUS AND PONTIA 
 
 II. 
 
 Talking of you, said he, my dear, 
 Two of the greatest wits in town, 
 
 One aslc'd, If that high fuzz of hair 
 Was, bona fide, all your Own. 
 
 III. 
 
 Her own, most certain, t'other said, 
 
 For Nan, who knows the thing, will tell ye, 
 The hair was bought, the money paid, 
 
 And the receipt was sign'd Ducailly. 
 
 IV. 
 Pontia, (that civil prudent She, 
 
 Who values wit much less than sense, 
 And never darts a repartee, 
 
 But purely in Her own defense) 
 
 V. 
 Reply'd, These friends of your's, my dear, 
 
 Are given extremely much to satire, 
 But pr'ythee husband, let one hear, 
 
 Sometimes less wit, and more good-nature. 
 
 VI. 
 Now I have one unlucky thought, 
 
 That wou'd have spoil'd your friend's conceit 
 Some hair I have, I'm sure, unbought, 
 
 Pray bring your brother-wits to see't. 
 
 Cautious Alice. 
 
 SO good a Wife doth LlSSY make, 
 That from all company She flieth. 
 Such virtuous courses doth She take, 
 That She all evil tongues defieth. 
 And for her dearest Spouse's sake, 
 She with His brethren only lieth. 
 
 125
 
 MATTHEW PRIOR 
 
 TO A 
 
 POET of Quality, 
 
 PRAISING THE 
 Lady HINCHIN BROKE. 
 
 i. 
 
 OF thy judicious Muse's sense, 
 Young Hinchinbroke so very proud is, 
 That Sacharissa, and Hortense, 
 
 She looks, henceforth, upon as Doudies. 
 
 II. 
 
 Yet She to One must still submit, 
 To dear mamma must pay Her duty, 
 
 She wonders praising Wilmot's wit, 
 
 Thou shou'dst forget His Daughter's beauty. 
 
 The PRATER. 
 
 An Epigram. 
 
 E ! 
 
 YSANDER talks extremely well; 
 On any subject let him dwell, 
 
 His tropes and figures will content Ye : 
 He should possess to all degrees 
 The art of talk, he practises 
 
 Full fourteen hours in four and twenty. 
 
 126
 
 TRUTH 
 
 TOLD AT 
 
 LAST. 
 
 AN 
 
 EPIGRAM. 
 
 SAYS Pontius in rage, contradicting his Wife, 
 " You never yet told me one Truth in your life : " 
 Vext Pontia no way could this Thesis allow, 
 " You're a Cuckold, say's she, do I tell you Truth now ? " 
 
 AN 
 
 ENIGMA. 
 
 FORM'D half beneath, and half above the earth, 
 We Sisters owe to art our second birth : 
 The Smith's and Carpenter's adopted Daughters, 
 Made on the land, to travel on the waters. 
 Swifter they move, as they are straiter bound, 
 Yet neither tread the air, or wave, or ground : 
 They serve the poor for use, the rich for whim, 
 Sink when it rains, and when it freezes swim. 
 
 TWO BEGGARS 
 
 Disputing their Right to an Oyster they had 
 Found ; a Lawyer thus decides the Cause. 
 
 BLIND Plaintiff, lame Defendant, share 
 The friendly Laws impartial care. 
 A Shell for Him, A Shell for Thee, 
 The Middle is the Lawver's-Fee. 
 So Judge's Word decrees the People's Right, 
 And Magna Charta is a Paper-Kite. 
 
 127
 
 MATTHEW PRIOR 
 
 A 
 
 FRENCH 
 
 SONG. 
 
 i. 
 
 WHY thus from the Plain does my Shepherdess rove, 
 Forsaking Her swain, and neglecting His love ? 
 You have heard all my grief, you see how I die, 
 O ! give some relief to the swain whom you fly. 
 
 II. 
 
 How can you complain, or what am I to say, 
 Since my dog lies unfed, and my sheep run astray \ 
 Need I tell what I mean, that I languish alone, 
 When I leave all the Plain, you may guess 'tis for One. 
 
 w 
 
 HUMAN LIFE. 
 
 HAT trifling coil do we poor mortals keep ; 
 Wake, eat, and drink, evacuate, and sleep. 
 
 A 
 
 CASE 
 
 STATED. 
 I. 
 
 NOW how shall I do with my love and my pride, 
 Dear Dick give me counsel, if Friendship has any, 
 Pr'ythee purge, or let blood, surly Richard reply'd, 
 And forget the Coquet in the arms of your Nanny. 
 
 128
 
 A CASE STATED 
 II. 
 
 While I pleaded with passion how much I deserv'd, 
 For the pains and the torments for more than a year ; 
 
 She loolc'd in an Almanack, whence she observ'd, 
 That it wanted a fortnight to Bartlemew-Fair. 
 
 III. 
 My Cowley, and Waller, how vainly I quote, 
 
 While my negligent judge only Hears with her Eye, 
 In a long flaxen-wig, and embroider'd new coat, 
 
 Her spark saying nothing talks better than I. 
 
 FOR 
 
 My own Monument. 
 I. 
 
 AS Doctors give physic by way of prevention, 
 Matt alive and in health, of his Tomb-Stone took care, 
 For delays are unsafe, and his pious intention 
 May haply be never fulfill'd by his Heir. 
 
 II. 
 Then take Matt's word for it, the Sculptor is paid, 
 
 That the Figure is fine, pray believe your own eye, 
 Yet credit but lightly what more may be said, 
 
 For we flatter our selves, and teach marble to lye. 
 
 III. 
 Yet counting as far as to Fifty his years, 
 
 His virtues and vices were as other men's are, 
 High hopes he conceiv'd, and he smother'd great fears, 
 
 In a life party-colour'd, half pleasure, half care. 
 
 p. II. I 129
 
 MATTHEW PRIOR 
 
 IV. 
 
 Nor to business a drudge, nor to faction a slave, 
 He strove to make int'rest and freedom agree, 
 
 In public employments industrious and grave, 
 
 And alone with his friends, Lord how merry was he. 
 
 V. 
 
 Now in equipage stately, now humbly on foot, 
 
 Both fortunes he try'd, but to neither would trust, 
 
 And whirl'd in the round, as the wheel turn'd about, 
 
 He found riches had wings, and knew man was but dust. 
 
 VI. 
 
 This verse little polish'd, tho' mighty sincere 
 
 Sets neither his titles nor merit to view, 
 It says that his relics collected lie here, 
 
 And no mortal yet knows too if this may be true. 
 
 VII. 
 
 Fierce robbers there are that infest the highway, 
 
 So Matt may be kill'd, and his bones never found, 
 
 False witness at court, and fierce tempests at sea, 
 
 So Matt may yet chance to be hang'd, or be drown'd. 
 
 VIII. 
 
 If his bones lie in earth, roll in sea, fly in air, 
 
 To Fate we must yield, and the thing is the same, 
 
 And if passing thou giv'st him a smile, or a tear, 
 He cares not — yet pr'ythee be kind to his Fame. 
 
 TO 
 
 My Lord HARLEY. 
 
 EXTEMPORE. 
 
 PEN, ink, and wax, and paper send, 
 To the kind Wife, the lovely Friend ; 
 Smiling bid Her freely write, 
 What her happy thoughts indite ; 
 Of Virtue, Goodness, Peace, and Love, 
 Thoughts which Angels may approve. 
 
 M. P. 
 
 130
 
 A 
 
 LETTER 
 
 TO 
 
 The Honourable LADY 
 
 Miss Margaret-Cavendish- 
 Holles-Harley. 
 
 MY noble, lovely, little Peggy, 
 Let this, my First-Epistle, beg ye, 
 At dawn of morn, and close of even, 
 To lift your heart and hands to heaven : 
 In double beauty say your pray'r, 
 Our father first, then notre pere ; 
 And, dearest Child, along the day, 
 In ev'ry thing you do and say, 
 Obey and please my Lord and Lady, 
 So God shall love, and Angels aid, Ye. 
 
 If to these Precepts You attend, ] 
 
 No Second-Letter need I send, I 
 
 And so I rest Your constant Friend, j 
 
 M. P. 
 TRUTH 
 
 AND 
 
 FALSHOOD. 
 
 A 
 
 TALE. 
 
 ONCE on a time, in sun-shine weather, 
 Falshood and Truth walk'd out together, 
 The neighb'ring woods and lawns to view, 
 As opposites will sometimes do. 
 
 I 2 131
 
 MATTHEW PRIOR 
 
 Thro' many a blooming mead They past, 
 
 And at a brook arriv'd at last. 
 
 The purling stream, the margin green, 
 
 With flowers bedeck'd, a vernal scene, 
 
 Invited each itin'rant maid 
 
 To rest a while beneath the shade ; 
 
 Under a spreading beach They sat, 
 
 And pass'd the time with female chat ; 
 
 Whilst each her character maintain'd ; 
 
 One spoke her thoughts; the Other feign'd. 
 
 At length, quoth Falshood, Sister Truth, 
 For so She call'd Her from Her youth, 
 What if to shun yon sult'ry beam, 
 We bathe in this delightful stream ; 
 The bottom smooth, the water clear, 
 And there's no prying shepherd near ? — 
 With all my heart, the Nymph reply'd, 
 And threw Her snowy robes aside, 
 Stript her self naked to the skin, 
 And with a spring leapt headlong in. 
 Falshood more leisurely undrest, 
 And laying by Her tawdry vest, 
 Trick'd her self out in Truth's array, 
 And cross the meadows tript away. 
 
 From this curst hour, the Fraudful Dame, 
 Of sacred Truth usurps the name, 
 And with a vile, perfidious mind, 
 Roams far and near to cheat mankind •, 
 False sighs suborns, and artful tears, 
 And starts with vain, pretended fears ; 
 In visits, still appears most wise, 
 And rolls at church Her saint-like-eyes. 
 Talks very much, plays idle tricks, 
 While rising-stock Her conscience pricks, 
 When being, poor thing, extremely gravell'd, 
 She secrets ope'd, and all unravell'd. 
 But on She will, and secrets tell 
 Of John and Joan, and Ned and Nell, 
 
 i xi
 
 TRUTH AND FALSHOOD 
 
 Reviling ev'ry One She knows, 
 As fancy leads, beneath the rose. 
 Her tongue so voluble and kind, 
 It always runs before Her mind ; 
 As times do serve She slily pleads, 
 And copious tears still shew Her needs, 
 
 With promises as thick as weeds. 
 
 Speaks pro and con, is wond'rous civil, 
 To-day a Saint, to-morrow Devil. 
 
 Poor Truth She stript, as has been said, 
 And naked left the lovely Maid, 
 Who scorning from Her cause to wince, 
 Has gone stark-naked ever since ; 
 And ever Naked will appear, 
 Belov'd by All who Truth revere. 
 
 Nelly's Picture. 
 A 
 
 SONG. 
 
 i. 
 
 WHILST others proclaim 
 This Nymph, or that Swain, 
 Dearest Nelly, the lovely, I'll sing; 
 She shall grace ev'ry verse, 
 I'll her Beauty rehearse, 
 Which lovers can't think an ill thing. 
 
 II. 
 
 Her eyes shine as bright 
 
 As stars in the night, 
 Her complexion's divinely fair ; 
 
 Her lips red as a cherry, 
 
 Wou'd a Hermit make merry, 
 And black as a coal is her hair. 
 
 ! 33
 
 MATTHEW PRIOR 
 
 III. 
 
 Her breath like a rose, 
 
 It's sweets does disclose, 
 Whenever you ravish a kiss ; 
 
 Like iv'ry inchas'd, 
 
 Her teeth are well plac'd, 
 An exquisite beauty she is. 
 
 IV. 
 
 Her plump breasts are white, 
 
 Delighting the sight, 
 There Cupid discovers her charms ; 
 
 O ! spare then the rest, 
 
 And think of the best : 
 'Tis heaven to dye in her arms. 
 
 V. 
 
 She's blooming as May, 
 
 Brisk, lively, and gay, 
 The Graces play all round about her ; 
 
 She's prudent and witty, 
 
 Sings wond'rously pretty, 
 And there is no living without her. 
 
 PROLOGUE 
 
 FOR 
 DELIAS PLAY. 
 
 The Royal Mischief. 
 A Tragedy. 
 
 LADIES, to You with pleasure we submit, 
 This early offspring of a Virgin- Wit. 
 From your good nature nought our Authress fears, 
 Sure you'll indulge, if not the Muse, her Years, 
 
 1 34
 
 PROLOGUE FOR DELIA'S PLAY 
 
 Freely the praise she may deserve bestow, 
 Pardon, not censure, what you can't allow ; 
 Smile on the work, be to her merits kind, 
 And to her faults, whate'er they are, be blind. 
 
 Let Critics follow Rules, she boldly writes 
 What Nature dictates, and what Love indites. 
 By no dull forms her Queen and Ladies move, 
 But court their Heroes, and agnize their love. 
 Poor Maid ! she'd have (what e'en no Wife would crave) 
 A Husband love his Spouse beyond the grave : 
 And from a second-marriage to deter, 
 Shews you what horrid things Stepmothers are. 
 Howe'er, to Constancy the Prize she gives, 
 And tho' the Sister dies the Brother lives. 
 Blest with success, at last, he mounts a throne, 
 Enjoys at once his Mistress and a Crown. 
 Learn, Ladies, then from Lindaraxa's fate, 
 What great rewards on virtuous Lovers wait. 
 Learn too, if Heav'n and Fate should adverse prove, 
 (For Fate and Heav'n don't always smile on love) 
 Learn with Zelinda to be still the same, 
 Nor quit your First for any Second flame, 
 Whatever fate, or death, or life, be given, 
 Dare to be true, submit the rest to Heaven. 
 
 AMARYLLIS. 
 
 A 
 PASTORAL. 
 
 IT was the fate of an unhappy Swain 
 To love a Nymph, the glory of the plain ; 
 In vain he daily did his courtship move, 
 The Nymph was haughty, and disdain'd to love. 
 Each morn as soon as the Sun's golden ray 
 Dispers'd the clouds, and chaced dark night away, 
 
 J 35
 
 MATTHEW PRIOR 
 
 The sad despairing Shepherd rear'd his head 
 
 From off his pillow, and forsook his bed. 
 
 Strait he search'd out some melancholy shade, 
 
 Where he did blame the proud disdainful Maid, 
 
 And thus with cruelty did her upbraid : 
 
 Ah ! Shepherdess will you then let me dye ; 
 
 Will nothing thaw this frozen cruelty : 
 
 But you, lest you should pity, will not hear, 
 
 You will not to my sufferings give ear ; 
 
 But adder-like to listen you refuse 
 
 To words, the greatest charm that man can use. 
 
 'Tis now noon-day, the Sun is mounted high, 
 
 Beneath refreshing shades the beasts do lie, 
 
 And seek out cooling rivers to asswage, 
 
 The Lion's sultry heat, and Dog-Star's rage : 
 
 The Oxen now can't plow the fruitful soil, 
 
 The furious heat forbids the reaper's toil. 
 
 Both beast and men for work are now unfit, 
 
 The weary 'd Hinds down to their dinner sit ; 
 
 Each creature now is with refreshment blest, 
 
 And none but wretched I, debarr'd of rest, 
 
 I wander up and down thro' desart lands, 
 
 On sun-burnt mountain-tops, and parched sands. 
 
 And as alone, restless I go along, 
 
 Nothing but eccho answers to my Song. 
 
 Had I not better undergo the scorn 
 
 Of Jenny ? is it not more easy borne ? 
 
 The cruelty of angry Kate ? altho' 
 
 That She is black, and you as white as snow. 
 
 ! Nymph don't, too much, to your beauty trust, 
 The brightest steel is eaten up with rust : 
 
 The whitest blossoms fall, sweet roses fade, 
 And you, tho' handsom, yet may dye a maid. 
 With Thee I could admire a country life, 
 Free from disturbance, city noise, or strife : 
 Amongst the shady groves and woods we'd walk, 
 Of nothing else but love's great charms we'd talk, 
 We would pursue, in season, rural sports, 
 And then let knaves and fools resort to courts ; 
 
 1 could, besides, some country-presents find, 
 
 136
 
 AMARYLLIS 
 
 Could they persuade you, but to be more kind : 
 
 But since with scorn you do those gifts despise, 
 
 Another Shepherdess shall gain the prize. 
 
 O ! Amaryllis, beauteous Maid, observe, 
 
 The Nymphs themselves are willing Thee to serve, 
 
 See where large baskets full of flowers they bring, 
 
 The sweet fair product of th' indulgent spring. 
 
 See there the Pink, and the Anemony, 
 
 The purple Violet, Rose, and Jessamy. 
 
 See where they humbly lay their presents down, 
 
 To make a chaplet thy dear head to crown. 
 
 See where the beasts go trooping drove by drove, 
 
 See how they answer one another's love : 
 
 See where the Bull the Heifer does pursue, 
 
 See where the Mare the furious Horse does woo : 
 
 Each Female to her Male is always kind, 
 
 And Women, only cruel Women blind, 
 
 Contradict that for which they were design'd. 
 
 So Corydon loves an ungrateful Fair, 
 
 Who minds not oaths, nor cares for any prayer. 
 
 But see the Sun his race has almost run, 
 
 And the laborious Ox his work has done. 
 
 But I still love without the thought of ease, 
 
 No cure was ever found for that disease, 
 
 But Corydon, what frenzy does thee [seize]. 
 
 Why dost thou lie in this dejected way ? 
 
 Why doest thou let thy Sheep and Oxen stray ? 
 
 Thy tuneful Pipe, why dost Thou throw away. 
 
 Had not you better dispossess your mind 
 
 Of Her who is so cruel and unkind ; 
 
 Forget Her guile, and calm those raging cares, 
 
 Take heart again, and follow your affairs, 
 
 For what altho' this Nymph does cruel prove, 
 
 You'll find a thousand other Maids will love. 
 
 J 37
 
 MATTHEW PRIOR 
 
 CUPID's Promise. 
 
 PARAPHRASED. 
 I. 
 
 SOFT Cupid, wanton, am'rous Boy, 
 The other day mov'd with my lyre, 
 In flatt'ring accents spoke his joy, 
 And utter'd thus his fond desire. 
 
 II. 
 
 ! raise thy voice, One Song I ask, 
 Touch then th' harmonious string, 
 
 To Thyrsis easy is the task, 
 
 Who can so sweetly play and sing. 
 
 III. 
 Two kisses from my mother dear, 
 
 Thyrsis thy due reward shall be, 
 None, none, like Beauty's Queen is fair, 
 
 Paris has vouch'd this Truth for me. 
 
 IV. 
 
 1 strait reply'd, Thou know'st alone 
 That brightest Cloe rules my breast, 
 
 I'll sing thee Two instead of One, 
 
 If Thou'lt be kind, and make me blest. 
 
 V. 
 One Kiss from Cloe's lips, no more 
 
 I crave, He promiss'd me success, 
 I play'd with all my skill and power, 
 
 My glowing passion to express. 
 
 VI. 
 But O ! my Cloe, beauteous Maid, 
 
 Wilt thou the wisht reward bestow ? 
 Wilt Thou make good what Love has said, 
 
 And by Thy grant, His power show ? 
 
 138
 
 Lamentation for 
 
 DORINDA. 
 
 FAREWEL ye shady walks, and fountains, 
 Sinking vallies, rising mountains : 
 Farewel ye crystal streams, that pass 
 Thro' fragrant meads of verdant grass : 
 Farewel ye flowers, sweet and fair, 
 That us'd to grace Dorinda's hair : 
 Farewel ye woods, who us'd to shade 
 The pressing youth, and yielding maid : 
 Farewel ye birds, whose morning song 
 Oft made us know we slept too long : 
 Farewel dear bed, so often prest, 
 So often above others blest, 
 With the kind weight of all her charms, 
 When panting, dying, in my arms. 
 Dorinda's gone, gone far away, 
 She's gone, and Strephon cannot stay : 
 By sympathetic ties I find 
 That to Her sphere I am confin'd ; 
 My motions still on Her must wait, 
 And what She wills to me is fate. 
 
 She's gone, O ! hear it all ye bowers, 
 Ye walks, ye fountains, trees, and flowers, 
 For whom you made your earliest show, 
 For whom you took a pride to grow. 
 She's gone, O ! hear ye nightingales, 
 Ye mountains ring it to the vales, 
 And eccho to the country round, 
 The mournful, dismal, killing sound : 
 Dorinda's gone, and Strephon goes, 
 To find with Her his lost repose. 
 
 But ere I go, O ! let me see, 
 That all things mourn Her loss like me : 
 
 l 39
 
 MATTHEW PRIOR 
 
 Play, play, no more ye spouting fountains, 
 
 Rise ye vallies, sink ye mountains ; 
 
 Ye walks, in moss, neglefted lie, 
 
 Ye birds, be mute ; ye streams, be dry. 
 
 Fade, fade, ye flowers, and let the rose 
 
 No more it's blushing buds disclose : 
 
 Ye spreading beach, and taper fir, 
 
 Languish away in mourning Her ; 
 
 And never let your friendly shade, 
 
 The stealth of other Lovers aid. 
 
 And thou, O ! dear, delightful bed, 
 
 The altar where Her maidenhead, 
 
 With burning cheeks, and down cast eyes, 
 
 With panting breasts, and kind replies, 
 
 And other due solemnity, 
 
 Was offer'd up to love and me. 
 
 Hereafter suffer no abuse, 
 
 Since consecrated to our use, 
 
 As thou art sacred, don't profane 
 
 Thy self with any vulgar stain, 
 
 But to thy pride be still display'd, 
 
 The print her lovely limbs have made : 
 
 See, in a moment, all is chang'd, 
 
 The flowers shrunk up, the trees disrang'd, 
 
 And that which wore so sweet a face, 
 
 Become a horrid, desart place. 
 
 Nature Her influence withdraws, 
 
 Th' effect must follow still the cause, 
 
 And where Dorinda will reside, 
 
 Nature must there all gay provide. 
 
 Decking that happy spot of earth, 
 
 Like Eden's-Garden at it's birth, 
 
 To please Her matchless, darling Maid, 
 
 The wonder of her Forming-Trade ; 
 
 Excelling All who e'er Excell'd, 
 
 And as we ne'er the like beheld, 
 
 So neither is, nor e'er can be, 
 
 Her Parallel, or Second She. 
 
 140
 
 On Absence. 
 TO 
 
 LEONORA. 
 
 IF absence so much racks my Charmer's heart, 
 Believe that Strephon's bears a double smart, 
 So well he loves, and knows thy love so fine, 
 That in his Own distress he suffers Thine : 
 Yet, O forgive him, if his thoughts displease, 
 He would not, cannot wish Thee more at ease. 
 
 What need you bid me think of pleasures past ? 
 Was there one joy, whose image does not last ? 
 But that One ; most extatic, most refin'd, 
 Reigns fresh, and will for ever in my mind, 
 With such a power of charms it storm'd my soul, 
 That nothing ever can it's strength controul. 
 Not sleep, not age, not absence can avail, 
 Reflection, ever young, must still prevail. 
 What influence-divine did guide that hour, 
 Which gave to minutes the Almighty Power, 
 To fix (whilst other joys are not a span) 
 A pleasure lasting as the life of man. 
 
 TO 
 
 LEONORA. 
 
 ENCORE. 
 I. 
 
 CEASE, Leonora, cease to mourn, 
 Thy faithful Strephon will return. 
 Fate at thy sighs will ne'er relent, 
 Then grieve not, what we can't prevent ; 
 Nor let predestinating tears, 
 Increase my pains, or raise thy fears. 
 
 141
 
 MATTHEW PRIOR 
 
 II. 
 
 'Tis but the last long winter night, 
 Our Sun will rise to morrow bright, 
 And to our suffering passion bring 
 The promise of eternal Spring, 
 Which thy kind eyes shall ever cheer, 
 And make that Season all our Year. 
 
 ON 
 A PRETTY 
 
 MADWOMAN. 
 
 i. 
 
 WHILE mad Ophelia we lament, 
 And Her distraction mourn, 
 Our grief's misplac'd, Our tears mispent, 
 Since what for Her condition's meant 
 More justly fits Our Own. 
 II. 
 For if 'tis happiness to be, 
 
 From all the turns of Fate, 
 From dubious joy, and sorrow free ; 
 Ophelia then is blest, and we 
 Misunderstand Her state. 
 
 III. 
 The Fates may do whate'er they will, 
 
 They can't disturb her mind, 
 Insensible of good, or ill, 
 Ophelia is Ophelia still, 
 
 Be Fortune cross or kind. 
 IV. 
 Then make with reason no more noise, 
 
 Since what should give relief, 
 The quiet of Our mind destroys, 
 Or with a full spring-tide of joys, 
 
 Or a dead-ebb of grief. 
 
 142
 
 The Torment of 
 
 ABSENCE. 
 
 i. 
 
 WHAT a tedious day is past ! 
 Loving, thinking, wishing, weeping 
 Gods ! if this be not the last, 
 
 Take a life not worth my keeping. 
 
 II. 
 
 Love, ye Gods, is Life alone ! 
 
 In the length is little pleasure : 
 Be but ev'ry day Our-Own, 
 
 We shall ne'er complain of measure. 
 
 THE 
 
 NEW-YEAR'S GIFT 
 
 TO 
 
 PHYLLIS. 
 
 i. 
 
 THE circling months begin this day, 
 To run their yearly ring, 
 And long-breath'd time which ne'er will stay, 
 Refits his wings, and shoots away, 
 It round again to bring. 
 
 II. 
 
 Who feels the force of female eyes, 
 And thinks some Nymph divine, 
 
 Now brings his annual sacrifice, 
 
 Some pretty boy, or neat device, 
 To offer at Her shrine. 
 
 H2>
 
 MATTHEW PRIOR 
 III. 
 
 But I can pay no offering, 
 
 To show how I adore, 
 Since I had but a heart to bring 
 A downright foolish, faithful thing, 
 
 And that you had before. 
 
 IV. 
 
 Yet we may give, for custom sake, 
 
 What will to both be New, 
 My Constancy a Gift I'll make, 
 And in return of it will take 
 Some Levity from You. 
 
 Coy Jenny. 
 
 A SONG. 
 
 i. 
 
 FOR God's-sake — nay, dear Sir, 
 Lord, what do You mean ? 
 I protest, and I vow Sir, 
 Your ways are obscene. 
 
 II. 
 
 Pray give over, O ! fie, 
 Pish, leave of your fooling, 
 
 Forbear, or I'll cry, — 
 I hate this rude doing. 
 
 III. 
 
 Let me die if I stay, 
 
 Does the Devil possess You ; 
 Your hand take away, 
 
 Then perhaps I may bless You. 
 
 144
 
 TO 
 
 CELIA. 
 
 AN 
 EPIGRAM. 
 
 YOU need not thus so often pray, 
 Or in devotion spend the day, 
 Since without half such toil and pain, 
 You surely Paradise will gain. 
 Your Husband's impotent and jealous, 
 And Celia that's enough to tell us 
 You must inhabit Heaven herea'ter, 
 Because you are a Virgin-Martyr. 
 
 Upon a FRIEND, 
 
 WHO HAD 
 A Pain in his Left-Side. 
 
 I. 
 
 TAY not the Pain, so near your heart, 
 
 J j On chance, or on disease, 
 
 So sensible, so nice a smart, 
 Is from no cause like these. 
 
 II. 
 
 Your Friends, at last, the truth have found, 
 
 Howe'er you tell your story, 
 'Twas Celia's eyes that gave the Wound, 
 
 And they shall have the Glory. 
 
 II. k. 145
 
 MATTHEW PRIOR 
 
 ENGRAVEN 
 
 On Three Sides of 
 
 An Antique-LAMP, 
 
 GIVEN BY ME 
 
 To the Right Honourable 
 
 THE 
 
 Lord HARLEY. 
 
 M. P. 
 
 ANTIQUAM hanc Lampadem 
 L e Museo Colbertino allatam, 
 Domino Harleo inter KeifiijXta sua 
 Reponendam D. D. Matth^eus Prior. 
 
 This Lamp which Prior to his Harley gave, 
 Brought from the altar of the CYPRiAN-Dame, 
 
 Indulgent time, thro' future ages save, 
 
 Before the Muse to burn with purer flame. 
 
 Sperne dile&um Veneris sacellum, 
 Sanctius, Lampas, tibi munus orno ; 
 I fove Casto Vigil Harleanas 
 
 Igne Camoenas. 
 
 146
 
 THE EXAMINER. 
 
 N° 6. Thursday Sept. j. 1710. 
 
 THE Collective Body of the Whigs have already engrossed 
 our Riches; and their Representatives, the Kit-Cat, have 
 pretended to make a Monopoly of our Sense. Thus it happens, 
 
 that Mr. P r, by being expelled the Club, ceases to be a 
 
 Poet ; and Sir Harry F e becomes one, by being admitted 
 
 into it. 'Tis here that Wit and Beauty are decided by 
 Plurality of Voices : The Child's Judgment shall make 
 H y pass for a Fool ; and Jacob's Indulgence shall pre- 
 serve Lady H 1 from the Tallow-Candle. 
 
 It is the Misfortune of our Athens, like that of antient 
 Greece, to be governed by a Set Number of Tyrants : The 
 Works of learned Men are weighed here by the unerring 
 Ballance of Party, and he is sure to be most ingenious in his 
 Writings, who is, in their Phrase, most thorough-paced in his 
 Politics. Tree looby kept the general Applause for a whole 
 Winter; while poor Phadra could scarce get into the Theatre, 
 'till she had thrown herself at the Feet of one of these Regu/i. 
 It was in this Mint that a curious Piece of poetical Workman- 
 ship was lately wrought, and, by the Masters of the Company, 
 allowed as current and authentic Coin. Notwithstanding 
 which Stamp of Authority, a Critic, unknown to me, has 
 presumed to make some Observations upon this Performance ; 
 both which, I hope Dr. Bentley will excuse me for publishing, 
 since this is such Poetry as he has never found among the 
 Greek or Latin Writers. 
 
 K 2 
 
 147
 
 MATTHEW PRIOR 
 
 To the Earl of Godolphin. 
 
 WHILST weeping Europe bends beneath her Ills, 
 And where the Sword destroys not, Famine kills 
 Our Isle enjoys, by your successful Care, 
 The Pomp of Peace amidst the Woes of War. 
 So much the Public to your Prudence owes, 
 You think no Labours long for our Repose : 
 Such Conduct, such Integrity are shown, 
 There are no Coffers empty but your own. 
 From mean Dependance Merit you retrieve ; 
 Unask'd you offer, and unseen you give. 
 Your Favour, like the Nile, Increase bestows, 
 And yet conceals the Source from whence it flows : 
 So pois'd your Passions are, we find no Frown, 
 If Funds oppress not, and if Commerce run. 
 Taxes diminish'd, Liberty entire. 
 Those are the Grants your Services require. 
 Thus far the State-Machine wants no Repair, 
 But moves in matchless Order by your Care : 
 Free from Confusion, settled and serene, 
 And, like the Universe, by Springs unseen. 
 But now some Star, sinister to our Prayers, 
 Contrives new Schemes, and calls you from Affairs. 
 No Anguish in your Looks, nor Cares appear, 
 But how to teach the unpractis'd Crew to Steer. 
 Thus, like some Victim, no Constraint you need, 
 To expiate their Offence, by whom you bleed. 
 
 Ingratitude's a Weed in every Clime, 
 It thrives too fast at first, but fades in Time. 
 The God of Day, and your own Lot's the same, 
 The Vapours you have rais'd, obscure your Flame. 
 But though you suffer, and a while retreat, 
 Your Globe of Light looks larger as you set. 
 
 148
 
 I 
 
 THE EXAMINER 
 
 A Letter to the Examiner. 
 
 SEND you these Verses enclosed, which I have read with 
 great Attention ; and from the Character of the Patron, 
 as well as of the Poet, with no ordinary Inclination to be 
 pleased. But so dull am I, that there does not appear, to my 
 Apprehension, either Poetry, Grammar, or Design in the 
 Composition. The whole seems to be, as the sixth Editor 
 of the Dispensary happily expresses it, 
 
 A strong unlaboured Impotence of Thought ! 
 
 If we examine it by the new Test of good Poetry, which 
 the Doctor himself has established, Pleasing at first Blush, has 
 this Piece the least Title even to that ? Or, if we compare it 
 with the only Pattern, as he thinks, of just Writing [in] this 
 Kind, Ovid, is there any Thing in De Tristibus so wild, so 
 childish, or so flat ? 
 
 What can the ingenious Doctor mean ? Or at what 
 Time could he write these Verses ? Half of the Poem is a 
 Panegyric on a Lord-Treasurer in being ; and the rest a 
 Compliment of Condoleance to an Earl that has lost the 
 Staff. 
 
 In thirty Lines his Patron is a River, the Primum Mobile, 
 a Pilot, a Victim, the Sun, any Thing and Nothing. He 
 bestows Increase, conceals his Source, makes the Machine 
 move, teaches to steer, expiates our Offences, raises Vapours, 
 and look[s] larger as he sets. 
 
 Nor is the Choice of his Expressions less exquisite, than 
 that of his Similes. For Commerce to run, Passions to be poized, 
 Merit to be retrieved from Dependance, and a Machine to be 
 Serene, is perfectly new. The Doctor has a happy Talent at 
 Invention, and has had the Glory of enriching our Language 
 by his Phrases, as much as he has improved Medicine by his 
 Bills. 
 
 But to be more particular 
 
 And where the Sword destroys not (says our Panegyrist) 
 Famine kills. 
 
 I49
 
 MATTHEW PRIOR 
 
 I could wish the Verse would have allowed of the Word 
 Plague, or Pestilence ; for I suppose that's what the Author 
 means. I have heard of the Plague at Dantzick ; but what 
 Part of Europe Famine rages in, I know not. Why won't 
 Physic stand here ? It is better Sense, and runs as well. 
 What the Pomp of Peace is, I as little comprehend, as how it 
 can be enjoyed amidst the Woes of War. 
 
 Such Condutl, such Integrity are shown, 
 There are no Coffers empty hut your own. 
 
 Since there is so little Poetry in this Couplet, I wish there 
 were more Truth in it. Some Coffers, I have heard, were 
 empty three Weeks ago ; and if they are not so still, the 
 Nation is more obliged to the Doctor's unpractised Crew, 
 than to the experienced Pilot. 
 
 Unasked you offer 
 
 A great Discovery ! I always thought till now, he that was 
 ask'd might be said to give ; but not properly to offer. The 
 malicious Part of the World will, I doubt, be apt to observe, 
 That this Sentence, as it stands here, is as true in Fact, as it 
 is exact: in Language, 
 
 Tour Favour, like the Nile, Increase bestows. 
 
 If the Beauty of the Simile is to be judged of by the 
 frequent Use which the Poets of all Ages have made of it, 
 scarce any can come in Competition with the Doctor's River. 
 The Nile on these Occasions is as trite, as the Stories of Icarus 
 and Phaeton. I remember I used it when I was about Twelve, 
 in a New-Year' s-Gift to my Uncle, and was heartily ashamed 
 of it a Year after. A School-Boy can no more miss the Nile, 
 than a French Author, when he dedicates to the Grand 
 Monarch, can live without the Sun, that other Simile in which 
 the Doctor rejoices. 
 
 -Some Star, sinister to our Prayers, 
 
 Contrives new Schemes. 
 
 Alii legunt Five Stars ; which makes this Passage intelligible. 
 I have often heard Astrologers talk of a sort of Influence that 
 
 150
 
 THE EXAMINER 
 
 Stars have upon human Affairs ; but I know of no Stars, but 
 those in Mr. Bickerstaffs Constellation, that ever contrived 
 Schemes ; and those too were erected under no very benign 
 Aspect. 
 
 My Lord's Care, he tells us, is to teach the unpractised 
 Crew to steer. By Crew, we are to understand the Lords of 
 the Treasury. A very civil Expression ! But as to the Sense 
 of it : What Affinity is there between Crew and Steering ? 
 Is Steering the Business of the whole Ship's Crew ? This is 
 a true linage of the IVhig-Scheme, where every Man is his own 
 Pilot. 
 
 If we read the two next Lines, we shall find these People 
 have wounded him ; and yet, like the best-natur'd Victim 
 imaginable, he needs no Constraint to expiate their Offence. 
 All this is what the French call Gallimatias, and what the 
 English Critics term Nonsense. But what follows ? For whom 
 you bleed. Bleed ! What, is the Devil in the Doctor, to 
 mention such a Word, and give so unlucky a Hint ? I hoped 
 that this Point had been so well guarded, that there could be 
 no farther need of an Act of Security. 
 
 The God of Day, and your own Lot's the same. 
 
 A hundred Pound for a Genitive Case ! as old Busby used to 
 cry out upon such an Occasion. 
 
 But to go on, from Grammar to Decency. Of this 
 Happiness of Great Britain, is any Part ascribed to the Queen ? 
 To this Machine, which moves so like the Universe, does the 
 Royal Hand give any Turn ? Methinks he might at least 
 allow Her Majesty as much as his Friends did in the Corona- 
 tion-Medal. 
 
 VICEM GERIT ILEA. 
 
 But, as the Poet observes, 
 
 Ingratitude 's a IVeed in every Clime. 
 
 He will give me leave, in my own Turn, to observe, That 
 ill Don Sebastian it is, 
 
 Ingratitude's the Growth of every Clime. 
 
 I S I
 
 MATTHEW PRIOR 
 
 What Occasion was there of altering a Verse he thought fit 
 to steal ? This is being a meer Banditti in Poetry, to rob and 
 murder too. But who is to be charged with this Ingratitude ? 
 The whole Body of the Nation did indeed wish the Treasurer 
 out ; but 'twas Her Majesty only that could displace him. 
 Such are the Compliments which the Crown receives from 
 this Anti-monarchical Academy. Excellent Poets, dutiful 
 Subjects ! 
 
 I could give you many more Observations upon the 
 Beauties of this sublime Panegyric, if I had my Longinus by 
 me. It has been corrected, I find, twice or thrice already ; 
 and if the Author corredts it once more, I am so well ac- 
 quainted with his lucky Performances that Way, that I don't 
 doubt, but I shall be tempted to write to you again upon the 
 same Subject. He will not be like himself, if he does not shift 
 his Patron as well as his Phrases ; and it won't surprize me at 
 all, if in the next Edition the Poem should come out inscribed 
 to the late Treasurer of Ireland. 
 
 But I believe by this Time the Town is tired with the 
 Verses, and you with the Criticisms of 
 
 Tour most bumble Servant, 
 
 Philodingle. 
 
 My unknown Friend Mr. Philodingle has taken my 
 Province from me : However, I am obliged to him for his 
 Essay. The best Return which can be made to an ingenious 
 Man, is to afford him fresh Matter to employ his Thoughts, 
 and more Opportunities of shewing his Sagacity. For this 
 Reason I present my Brother Examiner with a Riddle, which 
 was sent me by a Sage, studious of Egyptian Knowledge, and 
 much addicted to the Hieroglyphics. 
 
 152
 
 TWENTY-FOUR SONGS 
 
 i. 
 
 SET BY 
 Mr. DE FESCH. 
 
 STREPHONETTA, why <T ye fly me, 
 With such rigour in your eyes ? 
 Oh ! 'tis cruel to deny me, 
 
 Since your charms I so much prize. 
 
 But I plainly see the reason, 
 
 Why in vain I you pursu'd ; 
 Her to gain 'twas out of season, 
 
 Who before the chaplain woo'd. 
 
 II. 
 
 PARTING WITH FLAVIA. 
 
 SET BY 
 
 Mr. SMITH. 
 
 COME, weep no more, for 'tis in vain ; 
 Torment not thus your pretty heart : 
 Think, Flavia, we may meet again, 
 As well as, that we now must part. 
 
 You sigh and weep : the Gods neglect 
 That precious dew your eyes let fall : 
 
 Our joy and grief with like respect 
 They mind ; and that is, not at all. 
 
 We pray, in hopes they will be kind, 
 
 As if they did regard our state : 
 They hear ; and the return we find 
 
 Is, that no prayers can alter Fate. 
 
 153
 
 MATTHEW PRIOR 
 
 Then clear your brow, and look more gay, 
 Do not yourself to grief resign ; 
 
 Who knows but that those powers may 
 The pair, they now have parted, join ? 
 
 But, since they have thus cruel been, 
 And could such constant lovers sever; 
 
 I dare not trust, lest now they're in, 
 They should divide us two for ever. 
 
 Then, Flavia, come, and let us grieve, 
 Remembering though upon what score ; 
 
 This our last parting look believe, 
 Believe we must embrace no more. 
 
 Yet, should our sun shine out at last; 
 
 And Fortune, without more deceit, 
 Throw but one reconciling cast, 
 
 To make two wandering lovers meet ; 
 
 How great then would our pleasure be, 
 To find Heaven kinder than believ'd ; 
 
 And we, who had no hopes to see 
 Each other, to be thus deceiv'd ! 
 
 But say, Heaven should bring no relief, 
 Suppose our sun should never rise : 
 
 Why then what's due to such a grief, 
 We've paid already with our eyes. 
 
 III. 
 
 SET BY 
 Mr. DE FESCH. 
 
 E~T perjur'd fair Aminta know, 
 What for her sake I undergo; 
 Tell her, for her how I sustain 
 A lingering fever's wasting pain; 
 Tell her, the torments I endure, 
 Which only, only she can cure. 
 
 154
 
 SONGS 
 
 But, oh ! she scorns to hear, or see, 
 The wretch that lies so low as me ; 
 Her sudden greatness turns her brain, 
 And Strephen hopes, alas ! in vain : 
 For ne'er 'twas found (though often try'd) 
 That pity ever dwelt with pride. 
 
 IV. 
 
 TO PHILLIS. 
 
 SET BY 
 Mr. SMITH. 
 
 PHILLIS, since we have both been kind, 
 And of each other had our fill ; 
 Tell me what pleasure you can find, 
 In forcing nature 'gainst her will. 
 
 'Tis true, you may with art and pain 
 Keep-in some glowings of desire ; 
 
 But still those glowings which remain 
 Are only ashes of the fire. 
 
 Then let us free each other's soul, 
 And laugh at the dull constant fool, 
 
 Who would Love's liberty controul, 
 And teach us how to whine by rule. 
 
 Let us no impositions set, 
 
 Or clogs upon each other's heart ; 
 
 But, as for pleasure first we met, 
 So now for pleasure let us part. 
 
 We both have spent our stock of love, 
 So consequently should be free ; 
 
 Thyrsis expedls you in yon' grove ; 
 And pretty Chloris stays for me. 
 
 155
 
 MATTHEW PRIOR 
 
 V. 
 
 SET BY 
 Mr. DE FESCH. 
 
 PHILLIS, this pious talk give o'er, 
 And modestly pretend no more ; 
 It is too plain an art : 
 Surely you take me for a fool, 
 And would by this prove me so dull, 
 As not to know your heart. 
 
 In vain you fancy to deceive, 
 For truly I can ne'er believe 
 
 But this is all a sham ; 
 Since any one may plainly see, 
 You'd only save yourself with me, 
 
 And with another damn. 
 
 VI. 
 
 SET BY 
 Mr. SMITH. 
 
 STILL, Dorinda, I adore ; 
 Think I mean not to deceive ye 
 For I lov'd you much before, 
 And, alas ! now love you more, 
 Though I force myself to leave ye. 
 
 Staying, I my vows shall fail ; 
 Virtue yields, as love grows stronger; 
 
 Fierce desires will prevail ; 
 
 You are fair ; and I am frail, 
 And dare trust myself no longer. 
 
 156
 
 SONGS 
 
 You, my love, too nicely coy, 
 Lest I should have gain'd the treasure, 
 Made my vows and oaths destroy 
 The pleasing hopes I did ^njoy 
 Of all my future peace and pleasure. 
 
 To my vows I have been true, 
 And in silence hid my anguish, 
 But I cannot promise to* 
 What my love may make me do, 
 While with her for whom I languish. 
 
 For in thee strange magick lies, 
 And my heart is too, too tender ; 
 Nothing's proof against those eyes, 
 Best resolves and strictest ties 
 To their force must soon surrender. 
 
 But, Dorinda, you're severe, 
 I most doating, thus to sever ; 
 Since from all I hold most dear, 
 That you may no longer fear, 
 I divorce myself for ever. 
 
 VII. 
 
 SET BY 
 Mr. DE FESCH. 
 
 IS it, O Love, thy want of eyes, 
 Or by the Fates decreed, 
 That hearts so seldom sympathize, 
 Or for each other bleed ? 
 
 If thou would'st make two youthful hearts 
 
 One amorous shaft obey ; 
 'Twould save thee the expence of darts, 
 
 And more extend thy sway. 
 
 157
 
 MATTHEW PRIOR 
 
 Forbear, alas ! thus to destroy 
 
 Thyself, thy growing power ; 
 For that which would be stretch'd by joy, 
 
 Despair will soon devour. 
 
 Ah ! wound then, my relentless fair, 
 
 For thy own sake and mine ; 
 That boundless bliss may be my share, 
 
 And double glory thine. 
 
 VIII. 
 
 A TWO PART SONG. 
 
 SET BY 
 
 Mr. SMITH. 
 
 WHY, Harry, what ails you ? why look you so sad ? 
 To think and ne'er drink, will make you stark-mad. 
 'Tis the mistress, the friend, and the bottle, old boy ! 
 Which create all the pleasure poor mortals enjoy ; 
 But wine of the three's the most cordial brother, 
 For one it relieves, and it strengthens the other. 
 
 IX. 
 
 SET BY 
 Mr. DE FESCH. 
 
 MORELLA, charming without art, 
 And kind without design, 
 Can never lose the smallest part 
 Of such a heart as mine. 
 
 Oblig'd a thousand several ways, 
 It ne'er can break her chains j 
 
 While passion, which her beauties raise, 
 My gratitude maintains. 
 
 158
 
 SONGS 
 
 X. 
 
 SET BY 
 Mr. SMITH. 
 
 SINCE my words, though ne'er so tender, 
 With sincerest truth exprest, 
 Cannot make your heart surrender, 
 Nor so much as warm your breast : 
 
 What will move the springs of nature ? 
 
 What will make you think me true ? 
 Tell me, thou mysterious creature, 
 
 Tell poor Strephon what will do. 
 
 Do not, Charmion, rack your lover 
 
 Thus, by seeming not to know 
 What so plainly all discover, 
 
 What his eyes so plainly show. 
 
 Fair-one, 'tis yourself deceiving, 
 'Tis against your Reason's law[s] : 
 
 Atheist-like (th' effecl deceiving) 
 Still to disbelieve the cause. 
 
 XI. 
 
 SET BY 
 Mr. DE FESCH. 
 
 IOVE ! inform thy faithful creature 
 _^ How to keep his fair-one's heart ; 
 Must it be by truth of nature ? 
 Or by poor dissembling art ? 
 
 Tell the secret, shew the wonder, 
 How we both may gain our ends ; 
 
 I am lost if we're asunder, 
 Ever tortur'd if we're friends. 
 
 159
 
 MATTHEW PRIOR 
 XII. 
 
 SINCE, Moggy, I mun bid adieu, 
 How can I help despairing? 
 Let Fate its Rigour still pursue, 
 
 There's nought more worth my caring. 
 
 'Twas she alone could calm my soul, 
 When racking thoughts did grieve me ; 
 
 Her eyes my troubles could control, 
 And into joys deceive me. 
 
 Farewel, ye brooks ; no more along 
 Your banks mun I be walking : 
 
 No more you'll hear my pipe or song, 
 Or pretty Moggy's talking. 
 
 But I by death an end will give 
 To grief, since we mun sever : 
 
 For who can after parting live, 
 Ought to be wretched ever. 
 
 XIII. 
 
 SET BY 
 Mr. SMITH. 
 
 ONCE I was unconfin'd and free, 
 Would I had been so still ! 
 Enjoying sweetest liberty, 
 And roving at my will. 
 
 But now, not master of my heart, 
 
 Cupid does so decide, 
 That two she-tyrants shall it part, 
 
 And so poor me divide. 
 
 Victoria's will I must obey, 
 She acls without controul : 
 
 Phillis has such a taking way, 
 She charms my very soul. 
 
 160
 
 SONGS 
 
 Deceiv'd by Phillis' looks and smiles, 
 
 Into her snares I run : 
 Victoria shews me all her wiles, 
 
 Which yet I dare not shun. 
 
 From one I fancy every kiss 
 Has something in 't divine ; 
 
 And, awful, taste the balmy bliss, 
 That joins her lips with mine. 
 
 But, when with t'other I embrace, 
 Though she be not a queen, 
 
 Methinks 'tis sweet with such a lass 
 To tumble on the green. 
 
 Thus here you see a shared heart, 
 But I, mean while, the fool : 
 
 Each in it has an equal part, 
 But neither yet the whole. 
 
 Nor will it, if I right forecast, 
 
 To either wholly yield : 
 I find the time approaches fast, 
 
 When both must quit the field. 
 
 S' 
 
 XIV. 
 
 OME kind angel, gently flying, 
 A-lov'd with pity at my pain, 
 Tell Corinna, I am dying, 
 Till with joy we meet again. 
 
 Tell Corinna, since we parted, 
 
 I have never known delight : 
 And shall soon be broken-hearted, 
 
 If I longer want her sight. 
 
 Tell her how her lover, mourning, 
 
 Thinks each lazy day a year ; 
 Cursing every morn returning, 
 
 Since Corinna is not here. 
 
 p. II. l 161
 
 MATTHEW PRIOR 
 
 Tell her too, not distant places, 
 Will she be but true and kind, 
 
 Join'd with time and change of faces, 
 E'er shall shake my constant mind. 
 
 XV. 
 
 SET BY 
 Mr. DE FESCH. 
 
 FAREWEL, Amynta, we must part ; 
 The charm has lost its power, 
 Which held so fast my captiv'd heart 
 Until this fatal hour. 
 
 Hadst thou not thus my love abus'd, 
 
 And us'd me ne'er so ill, 
 Thy cruelty I had excus'd, 
 
 And I had lov'd thee still. 
 
 But know, my soul disdains thy sway, 
 And scorns thy charms and thee, 
 
 To which each fluttering coxcomb may 
 As welcome be as me. 
 
 Think in what perfect bliss you reign'd, 
 
 How lov'd before thy fall ; 
 And now, alas ! how much disdain'd 
 
 By me, and scorn'd by all. 
 
 Yet thinking of each happy hour, 
 Which I with thee have spent, 
 
 So robs my rage of all its power, 
 That I almost relent. 
 
 But pride will never let me bow, 
 No more thy charms can move : 
 
 Yet thou art worth my pity now, 
 Because thou hadst my love. 
 
 62
 
 SONGS 
 
 XVI. 
 LES ESTREINES. 
 
 SET BY 
 Mr. SMITH. 
 
 ACCEPT, my love, as true a heart 
 As ever lover gave : 
 'Tis free (it vows) from any art, 
 And proud to be your slave. 
 
 Then take it kindly, as 'twas meant, 
 
 And let the giver live : 
 Who, with it, would the world have sent, 
 
 Had it been his to give. 
 
 And, that Dorinda may not fear 
 
 I e'er will prove untrue, 
 My vows shall, ending with the year, 
 
 With it begin anew. 
 
 Nnu Tears day 170^. 
 
 XVII. 
 
 SET BY 
 
 Mr. DE FESCH. 
 
 NANNY blushes when I woo her, 
 And, with kindly-chiding eyes, 
 Faintly says, I shall undo her, 
 Faintly, O forbear ! she cries. 
 
 But her breasts while I am pressing, 
 
 While to her's my lips I join, 
 Warm'd she seems to taste the blessing, 
 
 And her kisses answer mine. 
 Undebauch'd by rules of honour, 
 
 Innocence with nature charms ; 
 One bids, gently push me from her, 
 
 T'other, take me in her arms. 
 
 l 2 
 
 163
 
 MATTHEW PRIOR 
 
 XVIII. 
 
 SET BY 
 Mr. SMITH. 
 
 SINCE we your husband daily see 
 So jealous out of season, 
 Phillis, let you and I agree 
 To make him so with reason. 
 
 I'm vext to think, that every night 
 
 A sot, within thy arms, 
 Tasting the most divine delight, 
 
 Should sully all your charms. 
 
 While fretting I must lie alone, 
 
 Cursing the powers divine, 
 That undeservedly have thrown 
 
 A pearl unto a swine. 
 
 Then, Phillis, heal my wounded heart, 
 
 My burning passion cool ; 
 Let me at least in thee have part 
 
 With thy insipid fool. 
 
 Let him, by night, his Joys pursue, 
 
 And blunder in the dark ; 
 While I, by day, enjoying you, 
 
 Can see to hit the mark. 
 
 XIX. 
 
 ADVICE TO A LADY. 
 
 Set by Mr. C. R. 
 
 PHILLIS, give this humour over, 
 We too long have time abus'd ; 
 I shall turn an errant rover, 
 If the favour's still refus'd. 
 
 164
 
 SONGS 
 
 Faith ! 'tis nonsense out of measure, 
 
 Without ending thus to see 
 Women forc'd to taste a pleasure 
 
 Which they love as well as we. 
 
 Let not pride and folly share you, 
 
 We were made but to enjoy ; 
 Ne'er will age or censure spare you, 
 
 E'er the more for being coy. 
 
 Never fancy Time's before you, 
 
 Youth, believe me, will away ; 
 Then, alas ! who will adore you, 
 
 Or to wrinkles tribute pay ? 
 
 All the swains on you attending 
 
 Show how much your charms deserve ; 
 
 But, miser-like, for fear of spending, 
 You amidst your plenty starve. 
 
 While a thousand freer lasses, 
 
 Who their youth and charms employ, 
 
 Though your beauty their's surpasses, 
 Live in far more perfect joy. 
 
 XX. 
 
 SET BY 
 Mr. DE FESCH. 
 
 SINCE by ill fate I'm forc'd away, 
 And snatch'd so soon from those dear arms ; 
 Against my will I must obey, 
 
 And leave those sweet endearing charms. 
 
 Yet still love on ; and never fear, 
 
 But you and constancy will prove 
 Enough my present flame to bear, 
 
 And make me, though in absence, love. 
 
 For, though your presence fate denies, 
 
 I feel, alas ! the killing smart ; 
 And can with undiscerned eyes, 
 
 Behold your picture in my heart. 
 
 165
 
 MATTHEW PRIOR 
 
 XXI. 
 
 SET BY 
 Mr. DE FESCH. 
 
 TOUCH the lyre, on every string, 
 Touch it, Orpheus, I will sing, 
 A song which shall immortal be ; 
 Since she I sing 's a deity : 
 A Leonora, whose blest birth 
 Has no relation to this earth. 
 
 XXII. 
 
 SET BY 
 Mr. DE FESCH. 
 
 IN vain, alas ! poor Strephon tries 
 To ease his tortur'd breast ; 
 Since Amoret the cure denies, 
 And makes his pain a jest. 
 
 Ah ! fair-one, why to me so coy ? 
 
 And why to him so true, 
 Who with more coldness slights the joy, 
 
 Than I with love pursue ? 
 
 Die then, unhappy lover ! die ; 
 
 For, since she gives thee death, 
 The world has nothing that can buy 
 
 A minute more of breath. 
 
 Yet, though I could your scorn outlive, 
 
 'Twere folly ; since to me 
 Not love itself a joy can give, 
 
 But, Amoret, in thee. 
 
 1 66
 
 SONGS 
 
 XXIII. 
 
 SET BY 
 
 Mr. DE FESCH. 
 
 WELL ! I will never more complain, 
 Or call the Fates unkind ; 
 Alas ! how fond it is, how vain ! 
 But self-conceitedness does reign 
 In every mortal mind. 
 
 "Lis true they long did me deny, 
 
 Nor would permit a sight ; 
 I rag'd ; for I could not espy, 
 Or think that any harm could lie 
 
 Disjniis'd in that delight. 
 
 At last, my wishes to fulfil, 
 
 They did their power resign ; 
 I saw her ; but I wish I still 
 Had been obedient to their will, 
 And they not unto mine. 
 
 Yet I by this have learnt the wit, 
 
 Never to grieve or fret : 
 Contentedly I will submit, 
 And think that best which they think fit, 
 
 Without the least regret. 
 
 XXIV. 
 Set by Mr. C. R. 
 
 CHLOE beauty has and wit, 
 And an air that is not common ; 
 Every charm does in her meet, 
 Fit to make a handsome woman. 
 
 But we do not only find 
 
 Here a lovely face or feature ; 
 
 For she's merciful and kind, 
 
 Beauty's answer'd by good-nature. 
 
 167
 
 MATTHEW PRIOR 
 
 She is always doing good, 
 
 Of her favours never sparing, 
 And, as all good Christians should, 
 
 Keeps poor mortals from despairing. 
 
 Jove the power knew of her charms, 
 And that no man could endure 'em, 
 
 So, providing 'gainst all harms, 
 
 Gave to her the power to cure 'em. 
 
 And 'twould be a cruel thing, 
 
 When her black eves have rais'd desire, 
 Should she not her bucket bring, 
 
 And kindly help to quench the fire. 
 
 TO THE 
 
 REV. DR. FRANCIS TURNER, 
 
 BISHOP OF ELY 
 
 WHO HAD ADVISED A TRANSLATION OF 
 
 PRUDENTIUS. 
 
 IF poets, ere they cloath'd their infant thought, 
 And the rude work to just perfection brought, 
 Did still some god, or godlike man invoke, 
 Whose mighty name their sacred silence broke : 
 Your goodness, Sir, will easily excuse, 
 The bold requests of an aspiring Muse ; 
 Who, with your blessing would your aid implore, 
 And in her weakness justify your power. — 
 From your fair pattern she would strive to write, 
 And with unequal strength pursue your flight ; 
 Yet hopes, she ne'er can err that follows you, 
 Led by your blest commands, and great example too. 
 
 Then smiling and aspiring influence give, 
 And make the Muse and her endeavours live ; 
 Claim all her future labours as your due, 
 Let every song begin and end with you : 
 
 168
 
 DR. TURNER 
 
 So to the blest retreat she'll gladly go, 
 
 Where the Saints' palm and Muses' laurel grow ; 
 
 Where kindly both in glad embrace shall join, 
 
 And round your brow their mingled honours twine; 
 
 Both to the virtue due, which could excel, 
 
 As much in writing, as in living well. — 
 
 So shall she proudly press the tuneful string, 
 
 And mighty things in mighty numbers sing ; 
 
 Nor doubt to strike Prudentius' daring lyre, 
 
 And humbly bring the verse which you inspire. 
 
 A 
 
 PASTORAL. 
 
 TO 
 
 DR. TURNER, BISHOP of ELY; 
 ON HIS DEPARTURE FROM CAMBRIDGE. 
 
 DAMON. 
 
 TELL, dear Alexis, tell thy Damon, why 
 Dost thou in mournful shades obscurely lie ? 
 Why dost thou sigh, why strike thy panting breast ? 
 And steal from life the needful hours of rest ? 
 Are thy kids starv'd by winter's early frost ? 
 Are any of thy bleating stragglers lost ? 
 Have strangers' cattle trod thy new-plough'd ground ? 
 Has great Joanna, or her greater shepherd frown'd. 
 
 ALEXIS. 
 
 See my kids browze, my lambs securely play : 
 (Ah ! were their master unconcern'd as they !) 
 No beasts (at noon I look'd) had trod my ground ; 
 Nor has Joanna, or her shepherd, frown'd. 
 
 DAMON. 
 
 Then stop the lavish fountain of your eyes, 
 Nor let those sighs from your swoln bosom rise ; 
 Chase sadness, friend, and solitude away ; 
 And once again rejoice, and once again look gay. 
 
 169
 
 MATTHEW PRIOR 
 
 ALEXIS. 
 
 Say what can more our tortur'd souls annoy, 
 Than to behold, admire, and lose our joy; 
 Whose fate more hard than those who sadly run, 
 For the last glimpse of the departing sun ? 
 Or what severer sentence can be given, 
 Than, having seen, to be excluded Heaven ? 
 
 DAMON. 
 
 None ; shepherd, none — 
 
 ALEXIS. 
 
 Then cease to chide my cares ! 
 
 And rather pity than restrain my tears ; 
 
 Those tears, my Damon, which I justly shed, 
 
 To think how great my joys ; how soon they fled ; 
 
 I told thee, friend, (now bless the shepherd's name, 
 
 From whose dear care the kind occasion came,) 
 
 That I, even I, might happily receive 
 
 The sacred wealth, which Heaven and Daphnis give : 
 
 That I might see the lovely awful swain, 
 
 Whose holy crosier guides our willing plain ; 
 
 Whose pleasing power and ruling goodness keep 
 
 Our souls with equal care as we our sheep ; 
 
 Whose praise excites each lyre, employs each tongue : 
 
 Whilst only he who caus'd, dislikes the song. 
 
 To this great, humble, parting man I gain'd 
 
 Access, and happy for an hour I reign'd ; 
 
 Happy as new-form'd man in paradise, 
 
 Ere sin debauch'd his inoffensive bliss ; 
 
 Happy as heroes after battles won, 
 
 Prophets entranc'd, or monarchs on the throne ; 
 
 But (oh, my friend !) those joys with Daphnis flew : 
 
 To them these tributary tears are due. 
 
 DAMON. 
 
 Was he so humble then ? those joys so vast ? 
 Cease to admire that both so quickly past. 
 Too happy should we be, would smiling fate 
 Render one blessing durable and great ; 
 
 170
 
 EPIGRAMS 
 
 But (oh the sad vicissitude !) how soon 
 Unwelcome night succeeds the chearful noon ; 
 And rigid winter nips the flowery pomp of June ! 
 Then grieve not, friend, like you, since all mankind 
 A certain change of joy and sorrow find. 
 Suppress your sigh, your down-cast eyelids raise, 
 Whom present you revere, him absent praise. 
 
 THE 
 
 REMEDY 
 
 WORSE THAN 
 THE DISEASE. 
 
 I SENT for Ratclifte ; was so ill, 
 That other doclors gave me over : 
 He felt my pulse, prescrib'd his pill, 
 And I was likely to recover. 
 
 But, when the wit began to wheeze, 
 And wine had warm'd the politician, 
 
 Cur'd yesterday of my disease, 
 
 I dy'd last night of my physician. 
 
 EPIGRAM, 
 
 EXTEMPORE. 
 
 I STOOD, Sir, patient at your feet, 
 Before your elbow-chair ; 
 But make a bishop's throne your seat, 
 I'll kneel before you there. 
 
 One only thing can keep you down, 
 
 For your great soul too mean ; 
 You 'd not, to mount a bishop's throne, 
 
 Pay homage to the Queen. 
 
 I7i
 
 MATTHEW PRIOR 
 
 EPIGRAM 
 
 ON BISHOP ATTERBURY. 
 
 MEEK Francis lies here, friend : without stop or stay, 
 As you value your peace, make the best of your way. 
 Though at present arrested by Death's caitiff paw, 
 If he stirs, he may still have recourse to the law. 
 And in the King's-bench should a verdict be found, 
 That by livery and seisin his grave is his ground, 
 He will claim to himself what is strictly his due, 
 And an action of trespass will straightway ensue, 
 That you without right on his premises tread, 
 On a simple surmise that the owner is dead. 
 
 ON 
 BISHOP ATTE[R]BURY'S 
 
 BURYING THE 
 
 DUKE OF BUCKINGHAM, 
 MDCCXX. 
 
 " T HAVE no hopes," the Duke he says, and dies ; 
 
 X "In sure and certain hopes," the Prelate cries : 
 Of these two learned Peers, I pr'ythee, say, man, 
 Who is the lying Knave, the Priest or Layman ? 
 The Duke he stands an infidel confest, 
 " He's our dear brother," quoth the lordly priest. 
 The Duke though Knave, still " Brother dear," he cri« 
 And who can say, the Reverend Prelate lies ? 
 
 172
 
 LINES 
 
 WRITTEN UNDER THE PRINT OF 
 
 TOM BRITTON, 
 
 the Small-coal-man, 
 
 painted by 
 Mr. WOOLASTON. 
 
 THOUGH doom'd to small-coal, yet to arts ally'd, 
 Rich without wealth, and famous without pride ; 
 Musick's best patron, judge of books and men, 
 Belov'd and honour'd by Apollo's train : 
 In Greece or Rome sure never did appear 
 So bright a genius, in so dark a sphere : 
 More of the man had artfully been sav'd, 
 Had Kneller painted, and had Vertue grav'd. 
 
 WRITTEN IN 
 
 LADY HOWES 
 
 OVID'S EPISTLES. 
 
 HOWEVER high, how.ever cold, the fair, 
 However great the dying lover's care, 
 Ovid, kind author, found him some relief, 
 Rang'd his unruly sighs, and set his grief; 
 Taught him what accents had the power to move, 
 And always gain'd him pity, sometimes love. 
 But, oh ! what pangs torment the destin'd heart, 
 That feels the wound, yet dares not shew the dart ! 
 What care could Ovid to his sorrows give, 
 Who must not speak, and therefore cannot live ! 
 
 *73
 
 I 
 
 MATTHEW PRIOR 
 
 AN 
 
 EPISTLE, 
 
 MDCCXVI. 
 
 Pray, good Lady Harley, let Jonathan know, 
 How long you intend to live incognito. 
 Your humble servant, 
 
 Elkanah Settle. 
 
 ANOTHER EPISTLE. 
 
 I Pray, Lady Harriot, the time to assign 
 When she shall receive a turkey and chine ; 
 That a body may come to St. James's, to dine. 
 
 TRUE'S EPITAPH 
 
 IF wit or honesty could save 
 Our mouldering ashes from the grave, 
 This stone had still remain'd unmark'd, 
 I still writ prose, True still have bark'd. 
 But envious Fate has claim'd its due, 
 Here lies the mortal part of True ; 
 His deathless virtues must survive, 
 To better us that are alive. 
 
 His prudence and his wit were seen 
 In that, from Mary's grace and mien, 
 He own'd the power, and lov'd the Queen. 
 By long obedience he confest 
 That serving her was to be blest. — 
 Ye murmurers, let True evince 
 That men are beasts, and dogs have sense ! 
 
 *7+
 
 TRUE'S EPITAPH 
 
 His faith and truth all Whitehall knows, 
 He ne'er could fawn or flatter those 
 Whom he believ'd were Mary's foes : 
 Ne'er skullc'd from whence his sovereign led him, 
 Or snarl'd against the hand that fed him. — 
 Read this, ye statesmen now in favour, 
 And mend your own, by True's behaviour ! 
 
 EPIGRAM. 
 
 TO Richmond and Peterburgh, Matt gave his letters, 
 And thought thev were safe in the hands of his betters. 
 How happen 'd it then that the packets were lost ? 
 These were Knights of the Garter, not Knights of the Post. 
 
 UPON 
 
 Playing at OMBRE, 
 
 WITH 
 TWO LADIES. 
 
 I KNOW that Fortune long has wanted sight, 
 And therefore pardon'd, when She did not right ; 
 But yet till then it never did appear, 
 That as She wanted Eyes, She could not Hear. 
 I begg'd, that She would give me leave to lose, 
 A thing She does not commonly refuse : 
 Two Matadores are out against my game, 
 Yet still I play, and still my Luck s the same : 
 Unconquer'd in Three suits it does remain ; 
 Whereas I only ask in One to gain ; 
 Yet She still contradicting, Gifts imparts ; 
 And gives success in ev'ry suit — but Hearts. 
 
 175
 
 MATTHEW PRIOR 
 ON MY 
 
 BIRTH-DAY. 
 
 I MY dear, was born to day, 
 So all my jolly comrades say ; 
 They bring me music, wreaths, and mirth, 
 And ask to celebrate my birth : 
 Little, alas ! my comrades know 
 That I was born to pain and wo ; 
 To thy denial, to thy scorn, 
 Better I had ne'er been born, 
 I wish to die ev'n whilst I say, 
 I, my dear, was born to day. 
 
 II. 
 
 I, my dear, was born to day, 
 Shall I salute the rising ray ? 
 Wellspring of all my joy and woe, 
 Clotilda, thou alone dost know. 
 Shall the wreath surround my hair ? 
 Or shall the music please my ear ? 
 Shall I my comrades mirth receive, 
 And bless my birth, and wish to live ? 
 Then let me see great Venus chace 
 Imperious anger from Thy face ; 
 Then let me hear Thee smiling say, 
 Thou, my dear, wer't Born to Day.
 
 ESS^TS; 
 
 AND 
 
 DIALOGUES 
 
 OF THE 
 
 DEAD. 
 
 By Matthew Prior, Esq r .
 
 Contents. 
 
 Dialogue between Charles the Emperor and Clenard 
 the Grammarian ...... 
 
 PAGE 
 
 Heads for a Treatise upon Learning . . . 179 
 
 Essay upon Opinion . . . . . . 189 
 
 207 
 
 Dialogue between Mr John Lock and Seigneur de 
 
 Montaigne ....... 223 
 
 Dialogue between the Vicar of Bray and Sir Thomas 
 
 Moor ........ 247 
 
 Dialogue between Oliver Cromwell and his Porter . 262
 
 An 
 Essay upon Learning.
 
 Heads for a Treatise 
 upon 
 
 Learnin 
 
 WHAT We commonly call Schole-Learning is so necessary 
 that he who has it not in some Degree can hardly be 
 counted a Man ; The several parts of it are to the Mind what 
 our different Limbs are to the Body. As we cannot see without 
 Eyes, or walk without feet so neither can we judge rightly of 
 what we have seen, or tell exactly how or where we have 
 walked without the Assistance of Arethmetic and Geometry : 
 We cannot build or enclose, we cannot Attain or improve 
 many other conveniencies and blessings of Life without some 
 Knowledge in these parts of Mathematicks. We can neither 
 rightly understand our own, or learn any other Modern 
 Language without a previous insight into the Latin and the 
 Greek. The good and Excellence of Learning has been the 
 Theme of the greatest Writers for above Three thousand 
 Years : The inconveniences and ills it may produce if not well 
 regulated is the subject of my present Letter. 
 
 As in general, Reading improves the Judgment of a Man of 
 Sense it only renders the Caprice of a Coxcomb more visible. 
 It has been truly said that he who is Master of three or four 
 Languages may be reckoned three or four Men. Understanding 
 and being understood in as many Countries : But if he utters 
 impertinences he is only the same Fool so many times Multiplyed. 
 If he had been bred by his Friends at home to what an honest 
 Farmer would call reading and writing he could have been 
 rediculous only from Isles of Orkney to the Cliff of Dover, but 
 being Sent to One of our Universities first, and thence to a 
 foreign Academy his Sphere of Activity is enlarged and he has 
 
 1 80
 
 AN ESSAY UPON LEARNING 
 
 the Priviledge to be laughed at at Paris or Madrid, at Rome 
 or Constantinople. Languages in the Mouth of a Fool are 
 like weapons in the hand of a Madman the more he has of them 
 the more harm he may do to himself as well as to every body 
 within his reach. 
 
 Too great an application to any one sort of Study may spoil 
 a Man of good Natural parts either as to his being agreable 
 in Conversation or useful! to the Public : being too far involved 
 in Mathematicks and abstracted Science he may become neither 
 heedful enough to mind or able enough to Answer what is said 
 in Company^ And from reading of History and Travel he may 
 be at last a Meer Story Teller, rather able to recite matter 
 of Fad then to apply it to a Right Purpose. As to that study 
 indeed which a Man makes his Profession there is an Exception, 
 for life is so short and the avocations of it so various that without 
 a Peculiar application to one kind of Learning he cannot attain 
 to a very eminent Perfection in it. Thus Divines, Lawyers 
 and Physitians are esteemed great Scholars if they understand 
 and Discourse well of what belongs to their own Profession, 
 & allowances are made in other parts of general Learning in 
 which they may not be so perfectly versed : It is therefore 
 incumbent on these Gentlemen to gain this point as well for 
 their Reputation as their Profit. History in general is Pleasurable, 
 and as it depends upon the Memory is to be acquired while we 
 are Young. The History of our own Country from the Conquest 
 and of the other Nations of Europe for about Three hundred 
 Years past is most diligently to be studied especially by Persons 
 of Quality and such as are to make any figure in the State or 
 Design for any public Employm'. I have heard some quote 
 Alexander and Caesar who knew very little of Gustavus Adolphus 
 or William of Orange, and were acquainted rather with 
 Thomyris and Zenobia than with Katharine of Medicis, or 
 Queen Elizabeth. They can dispute if there were four 
 Gordions in Rome without being very well assured there were 
 as many Henrys in France. As to Antient History it may be 
 remarked that you find Letters and Orations not Genuine, 
 which tell You not what the Persons spake or wrote but what 
 the Historian fancys they should have done. The Politicians, 
 Soldiers and Women in Tacitus make observations and turn 
 Sentences alike, and all Livys Heroes Harangue in the same 
 
 181
 
 MATTHEW PRIOR 
 
 Style. Julius Caesar commonly esteemed so happy in that he 
 had a Pen able to grave in neat Language what his Sword had 
 first more roughly cut out if rightly examined may be censured 
 on this head, for he who for the Credit of his own Wit makes 
 the most barbarous People speak in a Style much better than 
 they could possibly have, may for the honor of his Conquests 
 make them fight in an other manner than they really did. But 
 in Modern History it is otherwise. These sort of Memoires are 
 proved to be Authentic, and give You the very Pictures of their 
 minds in whose Name they were Published, or at least such an 
 Idea as you may conceive to be just. Who ever reads the 
 Apology of William the first of Orange, whom I just now 
 Quoted, will find a Patriot determined, Valiant and Great. 
 Who ever peruses the Conferences and Declarations of King 
 Charles the First will presently acknowledge a Prince just and 
 Pious Tenacious of his own Right but with great regard to the 
 good and safety of his People : Pieces of this kind give You as 
 infallibly an Idea of the Situation of Mind and Circumstance 
 of Fortune of the Person you read of as an Original Drawing 
 will show You the hand of any Painter. It can hardely be 
 Counterfeited tho by a better hand, nay even as to Minors and 
 Weak Princes tho it cannot be supposed that they write 
 their own Letters there may be found a likeness of their 
 Thought from the better Draught that their Ministers have 
 given of it. 
 
 Again the Customes and Maximes of the Greeks and 
 Romans are so different from those of the present Nations 
 and Times, that tho we may be thought more Learned we are 
 not in proportion so fully instructed from these as from more 
 Modern Authors, and they are only usefull as compared to 
 what is nearer Us, and as to Quoting History the greatest Care 
 imaginable is to be taken that the Story be proper to the Subject 
 upon which it was introduced, In this some have a peculiar 
 happyness, and others often Miscarry therefore every Man is to 
 Consult his own Tallent avoiding long Stories and especially 
 Tautology. 
 
 Of History in general, Chronology is the very life and 
 Quintisence, the rest without it is but a Rope of Sand, A Tale 
 of a Tub, where any Writer has failed in it his whole Book 
 has been Condemned, and where any Speaker is not guided 
 
 182
 
 AN ESSAY UPON LEARNING 
 
 by it, his Discourse will not be minded. Medals are again 
 a help to Chronology, but the scarsity and expence of good 
 Ones make it difficult for any Man less than a Prince to possess 
 such a Series of them as shal be of real use to him. For, here 
 I make the greatest difference imaginable between Study and 
 Curiosity since one is to profit the Mind the t'other to please 
 the Eye. The Gentleman who likes Medals very well will 
 always be desirous to possess the best of them, and the Antiquary 
 or Vertuose will be sure to top false ones upon him, besides 
 that too much Money may be spent in the Acquisition, too 
 much time may be spent in the contemplation of them. Medals 
 as to reading are what Counters are to Cards, You may 
 contemplate the Figures upon them while you neglect going 
 on with your Game. Monsieur Spanheim one of the greatest 
 Antiquaries and Scholars of the last Centuary had no other 
 Medals but those printed in Series and Books but I stil restrain 
 this Curiosity rather than condemn it. 
 
 The antient Poets are more looked into, and oftner quoted 
 than the Historians, the Mythology of their Religion, and the 
 Morality as well as the beauty of their Ideas continuing always 
 the same. Our Judgment as well as our fancy is engaged in 
 favor of Poets, we are taught it very young, and finding when 
 we come into the World that it meets with Universal appro- 
 bation, as we have learned it from our Fathers we study it 
 our selves, and deliver it to our Children by a kind of Tradition, 
 but here we must take special care for it is easier to play the 
 Pedant by way of Quotation in Poetry then in Prose : There 
 are a hundred scraps of Verses which for above twice as many 
 Years People have successively quoted, and by often hearing 
 them every body are tired of, these are absolutely to be rejected, 
 as are likewise all common Place Jests or observations in prose, 
 they ought never to be used except they give a greater force to 
 the argument you would maintain, or a new turn to the 
 thought you would express : Then indeed the commoness of 
 the Quotation is so far from taking off that it adds to the Lustre 
 of the Discourse. 
 
 The Italian and Spanish Writers have quoted with great 
 Success, but where they have made bold with Passages in Holy 
 Scripture which indeed is too frequently they are not to be 
 Imitated. The French and the English in the Choice of their 
 
 .83
 
 MATTHEW PRIOR 
 
 Texts as well as in the body of their Sermons and discourses 
 have done Justice to the Writers of the Bible, who besides the 
 Truth & Loftiness of their Thought have really more Wit 
 than any People who have lived since. Amongst the French 
 the Jesuits have Excelled in this ; And amongst our English 
 writers the Author of the whole Duty of Man, and of those 
 books that pass under his Name, some now living as D r . Atter- 
 bury, Smaldridge, Gastrel, have placed Texts of Scripture as 
 advantagiously as expert Jewellers would set precious Stones : 
 Without degrading from others, I think this Nicety of Judgment 
 particularly eminent : Those bred at Westminster Schole and 
 gained probably from their being used very Young to what 
 D r . Sprat calls the Genius of that place which is to Verses 
 made Extempore, and Declamations composed in very few hours, 
 in which sort of Exercises when Children they take from whence 
 so ever they can, which when Men they repay with great Interest 
 from the abundance of their own Thought thus Exercised, 
 improved and Dilated. 
 
 As I have said You must be sure to Quote with justness 
 or you will be insipid, you may quote with freedom in matters 
 of Panygeric but with great reserve in those of Satyr. Your 
 saying is an inscription engraven round an Insense Pot, but 
 a bloody Letter if bound to an Arrow. In the first case your 
 bon mot will be praised for the present and in some time 
 forgot, but [the] ill Nature of Men will help their Memory, 
 and the reflection being conveyed in the Sentence already 
 known the Sarcasm may happen to remain much longer than 
 either He on whom it was spoken, or he who spake it may 
 Desire. 
 
 What ever you read you must so observe and digest as to 
 form from it in speaking especially in your own Language 
 a Stile close, distinct and familiar, and in your writing easy and 
 Civil. How many do I know who have read a great deal, and 
 can scarse finish one intelligible Sentence, many have talked to 
 me of Demosthenes' Orations and Tullys Epistles who tell You 
 but very sadly in the beginning of their Letter that they are in 
 health or at the end of it that they are your humble Servant. 
 The First of the first aad Second of the second, Namely, 
 Thirdly, and Lastly &c a . Of the Divines, and the under favor 
 and with submission to better Judgments, and pray spare me 
 
 184
 
 AN ESSAY UPON LEARNING 
 
 one word &c a . of the Lawyers. In short all cant of Words 
 of any Profession must be avoided. Artis est celare or tern is in 
 this case a true Maxim, your hiding Your Method gives the 
 greatest beauty to it. A plain free Polite gentile Style, must 
 with the greatest Industry be acquired and fixed, for every Man 
 is obliged to Speak and Write Prose, As to Poetry I mean the 
 writing of Verses it is another thing: I would advise no Man to 
 attempt it except he cannot help it, and if he cannot it is in 
 Vain to diswade him from it. This Genius is perceived so 
 soon even in our Childhood, and increases so strongly in our 
 Youth, that he who has it will never be brought from it, do 
 what you will : Cowley felt it at Ten Years old, and Waller 
 could not get rid of it at Sixty. Poeta Morietur may be said 
 as truly as Poeta Nascitur. The greatest care imaginable must be 
 taken of Those who have this particular bent of Thought, they 
 must begin soon and continue long in the course of some 
 severer Studies. As to my own part I found this impulse very 
 soon, and shal continue to feel it as long as I can think, I 
 remember nothing further in life than that I made Verses, 
 I chose Guy of Warwick for my first Hero and killed Colborn 
 the Gyant before I was big enough for Westminster Schole, 
 But I had two Accidents in Youth which hindered me from 
 being quite possessed with the Muse : I was bred in a College 
 where Prose was more in fashion than Verse, and as soon as 
 I had taken my first Degree was sent the Kings Secretary 
 to the Hague : There I had enough to do in Studying French 
 and Dutch and altering my Terentian and Virgilian Style into 
 that of Articles Conventions and Memorials : So that Poetry 
 w ch by the bent of my Mind might have become the Business 
 of my life, was by the happyness of my Education only the 
 Amusement of it: And in this too having the prospedt of some 
 little Fortune to be made, and friendship to be Cultivated with 
 the great Men. I did not launch much out into Satyr, which 
 however agreable for the present to the Writers or Incouragers 
 of it does in time do neither of them good considering the 
 Uncertainty of Fortune, and the various change of Ministry, 
 where every Man as he resents may Punish in his turn of 
 greatness, & that in England a Man is less safe as to Politicks 
 than he is in a Bark upon the Coast in regard to the Change of 
 the Wind, and the danger of Shipwreck. 
 
 185
 
 MATTHEW PRIOR 
 
 Wit in Conversation, which is easier perceived when one 
 hears it then explained by any Diffinition, depend[s] upon the 
 Support of great stock and Plentiful Variety of reading, without 
 which what ever a Mans humor may be his thought will no.t 
 be sufficiently various and Plentiful, his catching in Discourse 
 upon a Subject which he understands will be too easily per- 
 ceived, and one shal almost know what he would say before 
 he begins to speak, his Jest will be, if I may so express it, too 
 Identical, he will endeavor to turn every thing into his own 
 way, as those who have not a sufficient plenty of Water bring 
 every Brook to their own Canal. Villiers Duke of Buckingham 
 was too much enclined to Burlesque, S r . Fleetwood Shepherd 
 ran too much into Romance and Improbability, and the late 
 Earl of Ranelagh in Quibble and Banter, Yet each of these 
 Three had a great deal of Wit, and if They had had more 
 Study than generally a Court life allows as their Ideas would 
 have been more numerous their Wit would have been more 
 perfect. The late Earl of Dorset was indeed a great Exception 
 to this Rule for he had Thoughts which no Book could lend 
 him, and a way of Expressing them which no Man ever knew 
 to prescribe. One general rule is that Wit what ever share 
 a Man has Naturally of it, or however he may have Fortifyed 
 it by reading, it should be used as a Shield rather than a Sword 
 to defend your self but not to wound another. However this 
 sort of Warfare has sometimes been necessary as the World 
 is at present Ordered, especially in Public Assemblies in our 
 Parliaments and even amongst our Divines in Convocation, 
 when a Man sees a blow coming he is actually obliged to 
 prevent it by striking first for if he deferred the stroke it will 
 be too late to strike at all. In this case no rule is to be given 
 to your Eloquence more than to your Valour in the Field, 
 You must ward Cautiously and strike boldly, and as Poet Bays 
 sayd of his Rant if it is not Civil egad it must be Sublime. But 
 in ordinary Conversation it is a very low Character to be as 
 Witty as you can, many like the thing but few Esteem the 
 Person, and if a Man is thought to have so much Wit that his 
 good Nature begins to be called in Question, in my Opinion he 
 has made but a sad Bargain by the Exchange. I knew one 
 Man, and never but One, who had this Talent of Railary in so 
 particular a manner that while he said things severe enough 
 
 186
 
 AN ESSAY UPON LEARNING 
 
 he rather Surprised than hurt the Person he Assailed and brought 
 himself always oft" so with the mention of some greater Merit 
 to compensate the Foible he Attacked in the same Person that 
 by a turn imperceptible his Satyrs slid into Panygeric, which 
 appeared the finer as it seemed less meant ; But this is a 
 perfection so hard to Attain, and a thing so Clumsey if a Man 
 aims at and misses it, that it is safer and better not to 
 Attempt it. 
 
 Besides the Serious Study which is to be the general 
 exercise and employment of your life, and without being 
 Master of which You can never make any great figure in 
 the World You should be pretty well Versed in some more 
 Pleasing and if I may so express it, some Secundary Science. 
 
 This You will find convenient it will take idle Hours from 
 your hand when alone, and have a proper use in Company, 
 a double one if You are in any public Station, for it will hinder 
 the Curious pressing upon you as to more solemn matter, and 
 enable You without appearing Ignorant or ill bred to turn the 
 Discourse to what may at once conceal your Secret and entertain 
 your Company. 
 
 Amongst these Arts of a Mechanical Consideration I reckon 
 Architecture, Sculpture, Painting, Gardening &c a . 
 
 The Choice of these must be determined by the bent of 
 every Mans own Mind, and without such an inclination or 
 what we call a Genius he will make a very little Progress in 
 these or any of those Sciences which tho Supported and 
 improved by Judgm' are founded upon imagination. These 
 Arts I say at once Instruct and amuse, help Men that have 
 Estates to employ them agreably, and to oblige those who have 
 not, and may yet participate of another Mans pleasure ; and 
 add at the same time to it ; For there is no Man that does 
 any thing of this kind but is pleased to show it, and no Man 
 that understands it but is obliged to him for the Communication ; 
 besides the Company w ch the Exercise of these Arts bring a 
 Man into is as well Honorable as agreable, Their Studies are 
 mixed with other Arts, and the conversation they must have 
 met with before they can have arrived to any Perfection in their 
 own Art must needs have rendered them in a great Measure 
 Scholars and Gentlemen. 
 
 To these I add Music, but with these Cautions that it takes 
 
 187
 
 MATTHEW PRIOR 
 
 up too much of our Time, and does not furnish Us with the 
 best Company. Those who are obliged to get their Livelyhood 
 by it have Addicted so much of their life to the Study of it, 
 that they have very little knowledge in any other Science. 
 I wish the Art were more encouraged, and that Musicians were 
 not forced even to Practice so much that they have not time to 
 study their own Science much less any other, But so it is. Now 
 a Gentleman Musically given cannot blow his Flute or strike 
 his Violin alone, and as to Conversation he is insensibly in a 
 Chorus instead of a Company, and tho when he came into the 
 Opera he thought he took his Place in the Box or the Pitt before 
 the Entertainment is half done he finds himself in the middle of 
 the Orchestre. 
 
 188
 
 An 
 Essay upon Opinion.
 
 Opinion. 
 
 SINCE Opinion is said to be the Queen of the World and 
 Our Actions must depend a good deal upon the Senti- 
 ments which others Conceive of them it may be worth our 
 while to Enquire a little what this Opinion is, How it is com- 
 monly formed, Upon what it Subsists, and in what manner it is 
 Altered. 
 
 Opinion is in One word the Estimate which every Man 
 makes of every thing he sees, the Product of what he calls 
 Common Sense, and takes it very ill if he is not allowed to be 
 the Master of it ; Many cannot read, more cannot write, but all 
 can and will Discourse and Determine : They have Eyes they 
 say, and consequently can see ; They have Ears and must be 
 allowed to hear, so all Visible and Audible Objects are properly 
 within their Connoissance, as to any thing shown or proposed 
 to them, They can tell if it Delights or Displeases them, and 
 the greatest Judges can do no more. Then again the General 
 Opinion will be found to be only a Collection of the Sentiments 
 of particular Persons, or to use a Modern Phrase a Majority of 
 Voices. 
 
 Let us consider then first the different Sentiments which 
 Men have of Things, those Sentiments guided by difference of 
 Age, Appetite and Inclination as well as by the Degrees of 
 Natural Sense or Acquired Knowledge of which the Person 
 judging is possessed, and then let us Observe the greater diffe- 
 rence in Opinion which must flow from the Sentiment of each 
 Society, Province and Kingdom, in which relation must be had 
 to their Utility, their Pleasure, their Manners and Customes. 
 
 I dont pretend to Examine the Nature and Essence of this 
 Mind of Ours, This Divine particula aura as a Divine or a 
 Philosopher, but as a stander by to take a little notice of some 
 of its Motions, the feats of Activity it plays, and the sudden 
 Escapes and Changes it often makes. 
 
 190
 
 AN ESSAY UPON OPINION 
 
 Man is to Himself so great a Stranger that Nosce Tc ipsum 
 is quoted as one of the wisest Sayings that ever was Pronounced : 
 Our Frame is such as may be Compared to a River, the solid 
 part arc no more than Banks and Dykes, which keep the 
 Current within its Natural Course, the fluid are in perpetual 
 motion, in Eternal Flux and Reflux : As in our Body, so is 
 there a continued motion in our Mind ; How far one may have 
 an influence or Operation upon the other, I shal not at present 
 Enquire, But certain it is that the same Man at different times 
 alters his Opinion of the same Things. 
 
 He that in the Opening of Manhood Delights in Dogs and 
 Horses, Hunting and Exercises (as Horace finely describes it) in 
 the middle of. Life turns his Thoughts to the Acquisition of 
 Wealth and search of Honor, and towards the end of it, he 
 insures his Ease, counts his Riches, and Prattles over the Scenes 
 of his Youth to Younger People, who all the while are weary 
 of hearing him. Terence founds his finest Comedies upon the 
 Observation of this change of our Manners with our Ages, and 
 the Concessions that human Nature ought to make to it. 
 
 I have read somewhere a Pritty Spanish Conceit, that, as we 
 are born our Mind comes in at our Toes, so goes upward to our 
 Leggs to our Middle, thence to our heart and breast, Lodges at 
 last in our head and from thence flies away ; The meaning of 
 which is that Childish sports and youthful Wrestlings, and 
 Tryals of Strength, Amorous desires, Couragious and Manly 
 designs, Council and Policy succeed each other in the Course of 
 our Lives 'till the whole terminates in Death ; The Conse- 
 quence of it is Obvious, our Passions change with our Ages, 
 and our Opinion with our Passions. 
 
 Let Us next Observe the different Passions by which People 
 of the same Age are moved, and observe what Power either 
 Choler or Flegme, a Sanguine or a Melancholy complexion 
 have in the Motions or Operations of our Mind. And here I 
 might bring in all Burtons Melancholy. Anger is a short 
 Frenzy, and fear the worst of Counsellors, we are hardly thought 
 reasonable Men, or responsible for our Actions whilst we con- 
 tinue possessed with the Violence of either of these Passions. 
 The Cautious Man suspedfs every thing, the bold fears nothing, 
 a harsh and close temper shal spend half his Estate in a Law 
 Suit, while one more free & Open would not give three Pence 
 
 191
 
 MATTHEW PRIOR 
 
 for the most compleat Revenge imaginable of this kind. The 
 Lover retrenches from the Necessarys of life that the object of 
 his Passion may shine in Velvet and Brocard. The Miser that 
 sees her thus Dressed had rather have her Pettycoat than her 
 Person. Every Man on this Head may as Actually be tryed as 
 Achilles when shut up with Licomedes Daughters, in the Chest 
 amongst the Ribbons Ear-rings and Necklaces, You will pre- 
 sently observe him find the Sword, the Predominant Passion will 
 appear thro all Disguise of Artifice and Hypocricy. 
 
 The Two great Passions which Triumph over our Judg- 
 ment and consequently subjugate our Opinion are Ambition 
 and Love, the first makes us think too well, and the latter too 
 meanly of our Selves. Ambition calls in all our Friends to our 
 Assistance, and sends us into Camps and Cities, Noise and 
 Popularity ; Love retires Us into Solitude, subjects Us to One 
 person, and makes Us like Nothing but what She does, nor 
 desire any place but where She is; And indeed She Alone. 
 I speak of these as the frailties of the greatest Minds ; Julius 
 lost all the Praises that could be given to a Successfull General, 
 and all the Blessings that could be heaped upon an honest 
 Patriot only because he would be the first Man in the World. 
 And Mark Anthony forgetting the Pursuit of his Vengeance and 
 Honor fled into a Corner of Egypt, contenting himself only to 
 Possess that Beauty which the same Julius had some Years 
 before Enjoyed and Abandoned. Add to this that Julius 
 hazarded his Estate, gave up his Quiet, and lost his Life for 
 what in truth could do him no good ; And Anthony did the 
 same for what must do him Mischief. Our Edward the 
 Fourth had like to have lost England for his Passion to his 
 Beautiful Widow, and Harry the fourth of France was as near 
 losing that Crown for leaving his Army to pay a Visit to La 
 belle Gabrielle. Yet in some Years so avowedly indifferent 
 were these Princes to the Objects of their Passion that both of 
 them had other Mistresses, and lived only with common Civility 
 towards those Persons to whom they would sometime before 
 have Sacrifized their Fortunes and their Lives, So hard is it for 
 the best and greatest of Men to form a just Opinion of things 
 contributing to their own Interest, and to be Decided by their 
 own Election. 
 
 This Love, and this Ambition it may be Objected were the 
 
 192
 
 AN ESSAY UPON OPINION 
 
 same Passions, the Objects were only changed, and indeed it 
 is hard to conceive any Opinion but what is founded on or 
 sustained by one Passion or other, But now let us think how 
 often the Passion it self does change in the same Person : Did 
 not Dioclesian quit the Empire of Rome to Cultivate a Garden ? 
 And Charles the Fifth Abdicate the Government of half Europe 
 to tell his Beeds in a Monestary ? How many Examples may 
 be given of One Passion yielding to another diredtly contrary 
 but more prevalent. Cornaro is jealous of his Wife so far as to 
 draw a line in the middle of her Chamber, beyond which She is 
 not to Approach towards the Window, yet worked up by Mosca 
 and Avarice, he consents to put her to Bed to another Man, 
 this instance for the Poets honor however fidlitious explains 
 a thousand real Ones of the same kind, which every Man who 
 Consults Baudius's Anthilogia, Morery's Dictionary may think 
 himself Entituled to Quote. 
 
 Let Us now see how our Passions vary as guided by our 
 Judgment and Understanding : in Minds most worthy to be 
 distinguished there is a Natural Fire or Impulse. 
 
 Est Deus in nobis ogitante calescimus illo 
 
 a tendency to know, Practice and Esteem some things, some 
 matters, some Objects preferably to others, and this Desire 
 encreases with the Knowledge which the Person has of the 
 thing desired. Hence arise those particular Applications and 
 Studies which form what we call a Genius, hence Poets, 
 Painters, Orators, Mathematicians, and these subdivided again 
 into twenty other Classes, and hence it comes to pass that the 
 Man who has spent all his time in One Science and conse- 
 quently neglected the rest may talk finely upon some few 
 Subjects, and like a Child upon all others. Not only so but the 
 further some of these Genius's go in pursuit of their beloved 
 Study the more persevere they in some new Sentiment. Ptolomy 
 had for many Ages fixt the Earth 'till Copernicus was pleased 
 to bow! it off again from its Basis, and Epicurus had enjoyed his 
 Attorns for about Two thousand Year with the greatest Satis- 
 faction imaginable till Descartes thought good to Contest with 
 him the Subtility and Indivisibility of matter. Half a Century 
 has past in the Agitation of this Question, and I am glad now to 
 hear that some ingenious Gentlemen are like to silence them 
 
 P. ii. N 193
 
 MATTHEW PRIOR 
 
 both by proving beyond all Contradiction that there is no such 
 thing as matter, the very subject of their Dispute, nor ever was 
 nor ever can be. 
 
 The various Estimate we make as to the Value of Things 
 cannot be better Illustrated then by the wants we find in the 
 pursuit of our Studies, every Man adding to his heap, and 
 desirous to compleat his Collection ; Books, Pictures, Medals, 
 nay dryed flowers, inseifs, Cockle-shells, any thing will do, but 
 then the Cruel Losses which we sometimes sustain, the late 
 Monarch and Court of France were all Disturbed, and Charles 
 Patin was banished the Kingdom because it was suspected by 
 some that the Otho which he Sold the King was not Genuine; 
 perhaps a little Boy Yesterday at Canterbury tore that Butterfly 
 in Pieces, or at Dover threw the very Shell into the Sea, the 
 Species of which were the only Ones now missing in Sir Hans 
 Sloans Cabinet, and an Oyleman on Fish Street Hill did actually 
 wrap up his Anchovies in the first Horace that was ever Printed, 
 whilst Frazer has with useless Pains been looking for the Book 
 this Two and Twenty Years. How many better Editions has 
 been since Published, or why the worst is the most Valuable 
 I refer to another Opportunity. 
 
 This difference of Genius produces the most indifferent 
 EffecT: imaginable upon divers Persons, as to the same Objecl, 
 while one Man is admiring the Beauties of a Pidture another 
 shal observe indeed that the frame is very fine. As I showed a 
 Friend of mine who is really a Man of great parts and learning 
 a flower piece of Bimbi finely Painted, he observed that the 
 Butterfly at the Corner was the prettyest thing he ever saw, 
 and upon the view of a little Closet, where are some good 
 Originals, he contented himself by taking Notice that the Green 
 Hangings Edged with Gold looked exceeding Handsom. One 
 of the greatest Men of this Age hates Tragedy, I have heard 
 him say, he only goes to a Play to Laugh, another tho he is far 
 from being a Cruel Man in his Temper likes to see the Butcher 
 of the West really wounded at the Bear-Garden, not content 
 with the sham red that glows upon the Skirt of Banco's Ghost. 
 A Country Gentleman I have heard of, who had seen Shake- 
 spears Harry the Eight, forgetting unhappily the fall of Buck- 
 ingham, or the Policy of Woolsey, remarked to his Friend, 
 a Man of the Town, who carryed him to the Play, that the 
 
 194
 
 AN ESSAY UPON OPINION 
 
 Bishop of Winchester, who sat at the Tryal of Queen Catha- 
 rine, was the same Man that snuffed the Candles between the 
 Adls with a greater Dexterity than could be conceived in 
 Human fingers. To this I would add, that the common herd 
 of Mankind (and I am afraid the Majority is on their side) have 
 no Opinion, or they seem to be in the same Case in relation to 
 that which they think they have as Bartholmew Coaks was as to 
 his Purse, They scarse know if they lost it before they had it, 
 or after ; How different so ever their Inclinations may be, they 
 consent in this at least, that they are always changing : It is 
 impossible for any rational being to please them, because it is 
 impossible to oblige them long: Tis hard for them to continue 
 in a Mind, which was determined by no previous consideration, 
 not being in any wise capable of Judging what was right, They 
 generaly think most things wrong : They know just enough to 
 find their own want, and from that Knowledge fancy that 
 every body finds it as well as themselves, having no Opinion of 
 their own ; They do as an Old Roman would, who had no 
 Child ; They Adopt that of the first Man they like, and from a 
 Debate in Parliament or a New Play, go to the next Coffee 
 House to be informed of their own Sentiments. If You trace 
 this Man thro life (for one and a hundred of them are the same) 
 You will find him always uncertain, A Husband or a Lover 
 He's Jealous or Anxious, an Unequal Parent and a froward 
 Master. As he never thinks he has friendship or respedt enough 
 from those about him ; his Opinion of their Service and Duty 
 is always Various ; he whispers with one, Chides t'other, 
 Embroils himself from the Stories of both, and hearkning to 
 Lies finds his Servants, as Solomon expresses it, always Wicked. 
 Does his Whim run to building, and has he seen any House 
 within twenty Miles of his own the New Appartment he made 
 last Year must as certainly down as the old Parlour did the 
 Year before to give it Place ; And for Gardening meerly upon 
 the Observation that his Neighbors Gravel Walk is too narrow 
 or too large, his own shal be Altered twice in a Year, and his 
 Terras shal be raised or depressed by the same Rule, he giving 
 You only the reason that he likes it so ; For fear you should 
 think he was Govern'd by any body. If he comes to Town as 
 he sees more Objefts, he finds more Distraction, Loads of ill 
 Pictures, and worse Books are sent to the Carryers till the end 
 
 N 2 195
 
 MATTHEW PRIOR 
 
 of the Session, but lye unpacked and unthought of when they 
 come into the Country, and if he gives into what the French 
 call La quinquaillieree (as it is ten to one but he does) Quart 
 does not set his Watch more actually than Mathar does his 
 understanding : he buys a pocket book, but dislikes before 
 he has set down one word in it : can he rest when he has seen 
 a Cane better clouded then his own, and disliking the hinge of 
 his Snuff box, must not the Dinner stay whilst he immediately 
 drives to Temple-Bar to give five Guineas more to exchange it 
 for a worse. 
 
 Let us leave him and return to the Human mind in general 
 upon which so many external Objects have an influence, regu- 
 larity of Diet, Intemperence or Abstinence as to Wine, the 
 continuance or interruption of health, the too frequent excitation 
 or Disuse of any Passion from the Neighborhood, or Absence of 
 its Object, the favor of Fortune or the hand of Adversity, a 
 word thrown Casually into a Discourse, the reading of a book, the 
 sight of a Picture or Statute, an Emblem, a Motto, a Seal, every 
 thing intelligible in Art, nay every thing Visible in Nature may 
 form new Impressions in our Mind, and alter those already formed 
 there. We judge of things according to the humour we are in and 
 that very Humour is subject to infinite Variety ; if Six Bells as 
 John Keil tells me can make more than a thousand Millions of 
 Changes, what must be the result of the jangling of ten or twelve 
 Passions sustained by an infinite variety of objects in Minds upon 
 which every thing can Operate ; the Dawning of Light excites 
 us into Chearfulness, the approach of Night depresses us into 
 Melancholy ; a different weight of Air raises or depresses our 
 Spirits, a Trumpet alarms us to an Ardour and action of War 
 and a Flute softens us again into thoughts of Love and delight. 
 An Herb, a Flower, can render us either pleased or Grave as we 
 consider the Beauty of its Colours, or the shortness of its 
 Duration, and the very Accident that makes Us angry, makes 
 us Laugh at the same time if any little Redicule accompanies 
 the Action ; So many Things seem, I say, to contribute to the 
 forming our Opinion the least of which has Power in a great 
 Measure to make Us change it ; so that no Man is so different 
 from another as the same Man is from Himself. 
 
 Amongst the External Causes which as I say [have] an Influence 
 upon our Minds I have thought One very comical, that is the 
 
 rq6
 
 AN ESSAY UPON OPINION 
 
 Opinion which other Men conceive of our Opinion. We desire 
 not only to be justifyed but applauded, and our Pride has a 
 great share in the Confirmation of our Choice ; its a pretty 
 thought that Semcle was not content to be beloved by Jupiter 
 except the World knew she was kept by the King of the Gods, 
 else Thunder and Lightning are but odd Furniture or Orna- 
 ments to a Ladys Bed-chamber, and that Candaules was not 
 Sufficiently happy in the enjoyment of a beautiful Wife till he 
 had showed her Naked to his Friend ; perillous Tryals, but 
 natural enough. A Man in the Reign of Nero or Commodus 
 would have past his time ill if he had not given it for granted 
 that the first of these Emperors was the best Musician and the 
 other the most skilful Gladiator then alive. I cite these as the 
 most Extravagant Actions that Men of their great Quality 
 were ever guilty of, and yet You see their Pleasure depended 
 upon the Sentiments which other people had of them. Epic- 
 tetus tho a Stoic confesses truly enough that it is not the Thing 
 but the Opinion conceived of the thing that vexes. Harry the 
 second of France built a Palace, which is yet standing for his 
 favorite Dutchess de Valentinois in the form of a Crescent, the 
 Architraves and Windows are adorned with Horns, Netts and 
 hunting Spears, and all this meerly upon the conceit of her 
 name being Diana, and our Harry the Eight, about the same 
 time brought M 18 . Bullcn a private Gentlewoman from the 
 Tower to Westminster in the first open Calesch which had 
 been then seen in England, that all the City by viewing his 
 M rB . might approve his Passion. What a Mortification had it 
 been to either of these warm Spirits if they had heard any body 
 whisper the least thing about the house or the Calesch, as 
 declaring too publickly the Weakness of these Princes, But if 
 the same Person had said that La Valentinois had been Mistress 
 many Years to the Kings Father, that She was much older than 
 his Maj ly , and had a Grand Daughter Mariagable, or that M re . 
 Bullen, was a raw Girle, knew no more than her Lute or her 
 Saraband, and was just returned from being a Waiting Woman 
 to the Kings Sister, unequal to him in all Degrees of Quality, 
 Conversation and Age, good Lord what must have ensued : Bella 
 horida Br//u y the Person had been disaffected a Hugonot or a 
 Traitor in his heart. 
 
 Alfrank who had set his Mind upon his Roan one of the 
 
 *97
 
 MATTHEW PRIOR 
 
 finest Horses in England, yet never could be brought to ride 
 him after the E: of G: had said freely he could not be of the 
 same Opinion : and Pyso did not care to show a beautiful 
 Picture of which before he was very fond after the D : of B : 
 had told him he thought it was not an Original, What was the 
 matter ? The Piclure and the Horse were the same the day 
 after as they were the Day before these dreadful Accidents 
 arrived. Happy is for Us, have I often said, that every Man 
 can find his own amusement, and that we do not all like the 
 same thing 5 That the Man who Gardens or Builds follows his 
 own Plans, and is satisfied with the Execution of them ; That 
 One hundred Men in Love each viewing his Mistress at the 
 same time (suppose in a Theatre or other Public Place) wonders 
 that the other Ninety Nine, should see so wrong as not to 
 admit his particular Woman to be (what he would certainly 
 call it) take her altogether the most agreable. But how short 
 alas is this Happyness if the Gravel Walk must be Altered from 
 our Neighbors thinking of it too narrow or too broad, and the 
 Wall raised or depressed from the Person who endeavoring to 
 look over it being Taller or shorter was pleased to exercise 
 a different Criticism upon it. Your observation comes too late, 
 Sir, Roan is Sold, and the Picture is sent into Wales. Is this 
 enough, Pough ! the very Mistress celecled from the rest of 
 Woman kind shal be thought to Change as to her Beauty or 
 her Merit, as a Male Friend to the Lover, a Female Friend to 
 the Lady, and perhaps both Rivals to one or t'other shal 
 describe her, from a hint of this kind she shal be thought first 
 too round Shouldered, too fat, or not bred enough in the 
 World, and in a little time after she is down right Crumpt 
 backed, a Boss, and knows not how to Live : Ten thousand 
 Instances of this kind show us that the Opinion of one Man is 
 altered by the Sentiments of another in relation to the same 
 Object : So plain is it that we do not see with our own Eyes, 
 nor judge by our own Understanding. 
 
 But let us suppose our Mind to be a little more Consonant 
 to itself than I have described it. Our Opinion for all what 
 Epi6tetus says must be directed by something without us, for 
 Opinion it self is really nothing else but the effedt of that 
 Impression, which an External or Intellectual Objecl makes 
 upon our Thoughts. I leave here the Diclination between 
 
 198
 
 AN ESSAY UPON OPINION 
 
 imagination and Judgment as a Speculation upon which we 
 may Dispute, & that is all. But true in fait it is that we cannot 
 but Chuse what we think best ; Best not as the thing is in it 
 self and singly considered, but with relation to the Circum- 
 stances with which we find it Accompanied : Our Mind like a 
 Looking-Glass reflects only the Beauty or deformity of the 
 Images Placed before it, and as these Images vary so varyes 
 likewise our Opinion. This in plainer English is before we 
 judge of things we are already determined to shun what we 
 think hurtfull, and to embrace what we esteem Good, so that 
 under the Denomination of Profit or pleasure we always pursue 
 our Interest, or gratifye our Vanity, and this single thought 
 thrown into different forms gives Us all that Rochfocault ever 
 writ. 
 
 Upon the natural Frailties of our Minds falls yet another 
 Incumbrance very hard to be removed, I mean the prejudice of 
 Education and Custom. Against this our Tutors and Parents 
 find themselves obliged to oppose reading, Conversation, Travell 
 and Experience, all which are commonly of too little force to 
 efface the first Notions engraven upon our Minds, whilst yet 
 they were Young and soft enough to receive those impressions, 
 and which as they grew harder stil retain the same marks. The 
 concern which every Man has first for his Family, and so on to 
 his Parish, his Province, his Country is such as from a Pre- 
 vention erefts it self by Degrees into a Principle. Every Man 
 is partial to the House from whence he descended, finds it filled 
 with famous Warriors or great Scholars, or at least supplies that 
 defeat by the force of his own fancy. Every Man in Warwick- 
 shire has part of the Prowess of Guy Earl of Warwick, and 
 every Woman in Coventry has part of the Chastity of the 
 Queen, who rode Naked through that City, which of the Two 
 Universities are most Antient or flourishing is the lasting 
 Contest of People bred at either. Ever)- English Man however 
 he disagrees with his Countrymen at home let him Travell 
 from Calais to Rome, and from Rome to Isaphaen, will venture 
 his life any hour he hears the least reflection made upon his 
 Nation. The Swiss are remarked to have a Distemper, which 
 they call the Hemvie, a desire of going home, and where ever 
 They are in Service they get leave to return to their Canton at 
 least once in Some Years, and certainly desire to Dye there. 
 
 199
 
 MATTHEW PRIOR 
 
 I have heard King William confess the same longing as to his 
 going to Holland, and I am sure when I was there I found the 
 Effedls of the same Distemper in my Desire to return to 
 England. I remember a Story which the Same great Man 
 was used to tell, since it comes not mal a propos^ to what I am 
 saying ; A Polander who rode in the Dutch Guards desired 
 Him, then Prince of Orange, to give him leave to go to 
 Warsaw, the Crown being then Vacant, alledging that being 
 a Gentleman he might be chosen King : The Prince gave him 
 leave, and when the Man, some Months after, returned to his 
 Post, His Highness asked him jestingly if he was Chosen ? No, 
 Sir, replyed the Man, in a very grave and composed manner, 
 I am not chosen King this time, but I return with the Satis- 
 faction of knowing that the Election was free. Upon this very 
 imagination the greatness of the Roman Empire was founded, 
 and the safety of every Common-wealth, or State in the World 
 does in a great Measure depend. Whether these Idea's were 
 implanted in our Minds by Nature at our Birth, or arrive from 
 the impressions made by the first Objecls we behold, we will 
 refer at present to the Metaphysicians. This is certain, that 
 they hardly leave us till our Death. S'. Paul does not scruple 
 to give this Habitude the Name of Nature. As abroad I have 
 Sometimes talked with Carthusians or Franciscans, Men 
 seemingly forsaking the World and lost to it, One has looked 
 intently upon my hatt, t'other felt my Coat and asked if it was 
 English Cloth, a third more Politely enquired about Our Noble 
 Familys of England. Now as to these People before they took 
 their Habits; The first had been a Hatter, the second a Draper, 
 and the Third a Man of Quality ; And the instance inferred 
 from this, is, that those Primitive Colours which our under- 
 standing first imbibed sticks upon it for ever, nor can be altered 
 by any Tindture, which another sort of life, and a different way 
 of thinking can cast over them. It may be here considered 
 that our Mind is such a buissy thing that it will never stand 
 Neuter, but is medling and interesting it self upon all Occasions. 
 If we see a Stranger come into a Room we are immediately 
 possessed in his favor, or prejudiced against him before he speaks 
 one word, And here comliness of Person and gracefulness of 
 Mien do very often put a Manifest cheat upon our Judgment, 
 which a more thorow knowledge of the Person may happen 
 
 200
 
 AN ESSAY UPON OPINION 
 
 to redress. We cannot see two People play but we take part 
 with One, and wish the other should lose, this without any 
 previous reason or consideration. But alas the Bowl takes a 
 stronger Bias, as we more know the Person ; If we love him 
 his Defects are diminished, if we hate him, his faults are 
 Exagerated. We look upon the different Objects without 
 finding that we have insensibly turned the Tube. And here 
 those enormous judgments may be taken notice of, which the 
 greatest Men in several Stations and professions have pronounced 
 upon the Abilities and Performances of their Contemporaries. 
 The difference is commonly begot by the Pride of the Persons 
 concerned, and nourished by the ill Nature of the standers by. 
 Our own internal Pride is a Jaunice of the mind, and makes 
 us see things in a bad Colour, but the ill Nature of others 
 intervening is a sort of Whirlwind that raises such a Dust 
 as hinders Us from Seeing the thing even in its true Dimensions. 
 Hence the extravagant censure and eternal War between Persons 
 of the same Age and profession. From Caesar and Pompey, to 
 Charles the Fifth, and Harry the Eighth and so on to Louis 
 the Fourteenth, and Wt'lliam the Third. From Protogenes 
 and Apelles to Paolo Veroneze and Pontormo. From James 
 the first and Schioppius to Bayle and Jurieu, for I think it not 
 Civil to give any living Instances while I am telling People 
 they are in the Wrong. Hence it happens that North or West 
 shal insensibly engage the Spirits at the Wrestling ring or 
 Bodmin or Truro shal break more Bones at a Whirling in 
 Cornwal than the ablest Surgeon in London shal be able to set. 
 William Earl of Pembroke in the Reign of Harry the Eighth 
 lost his Estate and remained several Years banished upon a 
 Quarrel meerly on some Tryals of Skill between the County 
 of Somerset and the Town of Bristol. Am not I rediculous 
 to Cite History upon this Head, when no Man can go into 
 a Coffee-House without being insulted upon the account of 
 Whig or Tor)-. A Party Man indeed, and such most of Us 
 are, or must be, is an Animal that no Commentator upon 
 Human Nature can sufficiently explain. He has not his 
 Opinion, how sorry a World so ever it may be, in his own 
 keeping. Quo ad hoc he is Mad, must speak without believing 
 what he understands, without enquiring he Acts as implicitcly 
 according to the word of Command given out by the heads 
 
 201
 
 MATTHEW PRIOR 
 
 of his Faction as a Carthusian or a Jesuit does to the Will of 
 his Superior. The Lye of the Day is the Rule of his life, and 
 as his Judgment depends upon that of other Men, he must 
 justify every thing that his Party Acts with the greatest Injustice, 
 till from the Degrees of Warm and Violent, he comes up to 
 Furious and Wicked. Fcenum habet in cornu, and every body is 
 obliged to yield or run from him. 
 
 It may here be Noted that however our Vanities or desires 
 are unconfined our Abilities have only a Certain Sphere of 
 Activity, and every Man is a Wit or a hero some where. In 
 most Families You have a Droll Servant, each Club has its 
 President, that gives Rules to it, and each Parish has an 
 Invincible Butcher or Tyler, a Witty Cobler, or a grave 
 Assistant to the Clerk in raising the Psalme. The Genius 
 of these, and of the greatest Men recorded in History is stimu- 
 lated by the same Ambition, and the honor of both hath bounds 
 as certain tho not as extensive, there being no such thing as 
 Universal Esteem, however Prittily Fame and her Flight thro 
 the World would be Described and magnifyed by the Poets. 
 In Prose she will be cramped and limited. To take her in her 
 greatest Extent, the Man who may be Praised thro Europe 
 is not heard of in Asia or Africa, and again how very few are 
 renowned beyond the Bounds of their own Country, so great 
 a hinderance to Knowledge is the Diversity of Languages, and 
 so prevalent is Custom to the Esteem we put upon things. 
 Had Sir Francis Bacon or Sir Philip Sydney been taken by 
 a Tripolin or Sally Pirate, the Footman of either of Them 
 would have been sold for as much more than his Master as he 
 was stronger. The same in all probability would happen to 
 Sir Isaac Newton in relation to the Water Man in Southwark 
 who makes Amanacks. Suppose the like Case to happen to the 
 best Poet now Living, and to the Zany of a Mountebank upon 
 Tower-Hill, the first would be left on Board the Gallies stript 
 and unregarded, condemned to Row there during life, whilst 
 the other would have his Harlequins Coat restored to him, and 
 be taken up to the Castle, to divert the Governor. 
 
 Thus, I say, other People may not be just enough to Us, 
 and we may be too Partial to our selves, and not to our selves 
 only, but to those who most resemble us. Thus one Mans 
 Vice if examined by another Man equally inclined to it is 
 
 202
 
 AN ESSAY UPON OPINION 
 
 cither Diminished or Christned by the name of some resembling 
 Virtue : Sordidness of life by the Covetous man is called 
 tlity, and intemperance is called good Fellowship by the 
 Bon Vivant) the loosest pleasures of the Amorous are but 
 Gallantries, and the Caprice or revenge of the Wrathful, lyes 
 covered under the Shield of his Honor Defendit Numerus, who 
 ever heard of such a thing as Usury in Lombard Street, or Perjury 
 at the Custom-House. Now what a jumble must this make in 
 the difference of our Censures, To carry the Thought a little 
 further, the Bounds of Virtue and Vice 
 
 Quos ultra citraa nequit consistere rectum 
 
 are in many cases pretty difficult to find ; how nicely must one 
 Distinguish between Patience and Pusillanimity, between Courage 
 and foolhardiness, and so of the rest. Add to this that as to 
 Opinion Success qualifies the Aclion : if Fabius Maximus had 
 not gained his point by avoiding Battle, he had past for a Coward, 
 and if Alexander had lost the Day at Arbella, he had been 
 Consigned by History for a Madman. 
 
 We need not go from our own Country, or our own Memory 
 for instances of this kind ; The Duke of Monmouth came to 
 England with Libert}- ami Property and the Protestant Religion 
 on his Standard: he was beaten and beheaded; his Honors 
 were taken from his Family. The Prince of Orange does 
 the same tiling, he is Successful, is Crowned King of England, 
 transmits an Imortal Memory to Posterity ; Gives Us a New 
 Epoche of Time, and a different Set of Principles from the 
 Revolution. 
 
 20'
 
 Four 
 Dialogues of the Dead.
 
 A Dialogue 
 
 between 
 
 Charles the Emperour 
 
 and 
 
 Clenard the Grammarian. 
 
 Charles. Burgundy with Brabant and Flanders, Castile, 
 Arragon, Germany possessed : Italy, France, Africa, Greece 
 attempted. 
 
 Clenard. Noun Substantive and Ajedtive, Pronoun, Verb, 
 Participle declined: Adverb, Conjonftion, Preposition, Inter- 
 jection undeclined. 
 
 Charles. Into this Model I had cast Europe. How Glorious 
 was the Design ? 
 
 Clenard. How happy was the Division I made of all Greece 
 into Five Dialecls. 
 
 Charles. Thou art pretty bold, Friend, not only to hearken 
 to what I say, but to dare to Mimick it ; stand further off I 
 command Thee. 
 
 Clenard. Aye, there it is, that Imperative Mood, that Stile 
 of Kings, founded on the reasonable Maxim of tel est Notre 
 plaisir. 
 
 Charles. Why, how should I speak but like my Self? I am 
 Charles the Emperor. 
 
 Clenard. Then dont be offended if I answer like m\ self. 
 I am Clenard the School-master. 
 
 Charles. A discovery of great importance truly. What can 
 the Man mean by it ? 
 
 Clenard. That each of us should give a fair and just Account 
 of himself as a Man, and then — 
 
 Charles. And what then ? 
 
 Clenard. Why then if You would divest Your self of that 
 
 207
 
 MATTHEW PRIOR 
 
 Princely way of thinking, and argue a little cooler, you would 
 not find so much difference between us Two as you imagine. 
 
 Charles. Difference ? Why I was by Birth Monarch of 
 Nations, by Acquisition and Power Emperor of the West, and 
 by Stratagem and refinement one of the most Cunning Politicians 
 and most renowned Warrior of my time. 
 
 Clenard. And I was the best Grammarian of mine, very 
 virtuous as to my Morals, well versed in the belles Lettres, and 
 of an agreable Wit in Conversation. 
 
 Charles. Why Thou dost not intend I should submit to so 
 Comical a Comparison. 
 
 Clenard. Comical ! Egad I am very Serious while I tell 
 you I think my self as Great, as Wise, and certainly as happy 
 a Man, as your self. 
 
 Charles. Why Learning has made Thee Mad, Clenard. 
 Thou hast crouded thy head with Notions, and forgot plain 
 Facts; refresh thy Memory a little. Hast thou not seen me 
 at Franckfort, and Aix la Chapelle, with the Imperial Diadem 
 on my head, Presiding in the Three Colleges of Electors, Princes, 
 and Imperial Towns, Served in all the State, and vested in all 
 the Types and Ornaments that Human Greatness is capable of 
 receiving. The King of Bohemia my Cup-bearer, The three 
 first Potentates of Germany waiting on me as Menial Officers ; 
 the greatest Ecclesiasticks acknowledging themselves my Chan- 
 cellours ; and all the Nobility of the Empire either my Soldiers 
 or my Servants. 
 
 Clenard. O raree Show, pretty show ! and have you not 
 heard of me at Lovain, and Nurembourg presiding over the 
 Hebrew, Greek and Latin Schools ? Had I not my Formes 
 and Classes as you your Squadrons & Regiments ? Had not 
 I equally my Captains, and Subaltern Officers, and did not 
 I distribute rewards and Punishments as I thought good, as 
 well as You ? What were your Ancestors Fasces but a bundle 
 of Rods, What your Scepter but my Ferula? Could not I exert 
 as Imperial Power as absolutely as any Emperor alive, if I had 
 Pleased [ ? ] but Greek is lost upon You. 
 
 Charles. Rediculous ! while I commanded at the head 
 of an Hundred Thousand Men by Land and Sea, Embarqued 
 half of them one Campaign to Africa ; Marched them next 
 thro Italy : You ruled only two or three hundred Boys, 
 
 208
 
 CHARLES AND CLENARD 
 
 sauntering Icasurely after them from the School to the Cathederal, 
 from thence to the Hall, and so returning — 
 
 Clenard. Hold, good Charles, lett Us fairly State our 
 matters, for, I love Method, extremely. The first part of the 
 Question, is, which of Us Two had most Power. Now, of 
 the Hundred Thousand Men, with whom you went Dub 
 a Dub, and Tantara-rara thro the World, Nineteen parts in 
 twenty were only Machines, meer Instruments of War, made 
 use of to fill Trenches, or stop Breaches, played off by whole 
 Battallions, food for Powder, as Sir John FalstafF calls it in the 
 English Play. The sensible and Animated part of your Army 
 were only useful to you, as they had been instructed by me, or 
 some other of my Profession. Could they have Marched thro 
 different Countries without having the Languages ? Could 
 they have taken Towns, or attacked Fortifications, without 
 some previous knowledge in Geometry ? Nay, could they 
 have Mustered their own Soldiers or Calculated their Pay 
 without Arethmetic ? In effecl: I formed your Officers tho 
 you Employed them. Without my Instructions, and the 
 Practice of that Discipline which they learned at School, You 
 had better have commanded Herds of Tartars or Nations of 
 wild Indians. And who Governed your Towns all this while, 
 and administred your Laws for You, but those People whom 
 I had Educated ? When ever it was otherwise, You see all 
 your Constitutions, Institutes, and Diplomata trampled upon. 
 A John of Leyden in our very time, a Cromwell, nay a 
 Massienello a little since, have made the greatest Kings of you 
 all tremble. Now see what you Owe to us Scholars, who tame 
 the World and make it Subordinate to your Power. For my self 
 in particular, how many good Commanders and discreet Governors 
 have I bred up for You ? 
 
 Charles. Well ; but were you not paid for your Pains ? did 
 I not take care that the Towns where you Taught should allow 
 you honorable Stypends, and that the Parents of your Scholars 
 should add to your Income ? 
 
 Clenard. Right Charles, Quo, I erat demonstrandum. Did not 
 you therefore raise Contributions for me, nay pay them your 
 Self? what plainer acknowledgment could you make of my 
 being really the greater Man of the Two. Pryth^e what does 
 any Vassal in the Empire do more to his Lord ? 
 
 p. ii. o 209
 
 MATTHEW PRIOR 
 
 Charles. Pough, this is meer Sophistry. 
 
 Clenard. Real Truth, bond fide, but pray go on in your own 
 way. 
 
 Charles. Why, I tell you the Eyes of the whole World 
 were upon me, Every body enquiring into my Designs, and 
 Solicitous to be informed of my Measures. 
 
 Clenard. And every body wishing You were a Thousand 
 Mile off when ever you left your Kingdoms, which you might 
 have governed quietly ; and every body Praying heartily for your 
 Exit out of that World, which you Harrassed and Tormented. 
 
 Charles. You break in upon me too soon. What Two 
 glorious Days were those in which I put the Armies of 
 Solyman and Barbarossa to flight? How compleat was the 
 Victory of Pavie, when I took Francis the First Prisoner, and 
 how memorable the Saccage of Rome, when I got the Pope into 
 my Clutches ! the Jest pleases me stil when I think ont. That 
 I detained // beatissimo padre Clemente close Prisoner, when I put 
 my self into Mourning for my Victory, and Ordered public 
 Processions to be made for his Deliverance. 
 
 Clenard. To crown your Happyness, pray think of some 
 other of your great Days. That for instance when you returned 
 from Africa soundly beaten, by the same Barbarossa you just 
 now quoted. That Day when you were driven from before 
 Marseilles over the Alps, with the loss of above Thirty thousand 
 Men. Or, that when you were forced to raise the Seige of 
 Metz, when the Wits of the Age were so merry with You 
 as to give you for Devise a Sea-Crab, and your own Plus ultra 
 turned into Plus citra for the Motto ; When they painted your 
 Eagle chained to your Hercules's Pillars, with Non ultra Metas 
 at the bottom ; and not to trouble you too much (for I could 
 put many days of Mortification into your Calendar) what think 
 you of that distinguished One when you gave your self up to 
 the bonne foy of your old Antagonist Francis, and in the 
 middle of a seeming Triumph was in bodily fear lest he should 
 use you as scurvilly as you had done the Pope. And now after 
 all your Wars carryed on in Germany for your pretended 
 Catholicism, you were forced to conclude a Peace in favor of 
 the Protestants : And after all the Designs against France, you 
 were not able to recover even what that Crown had gained 
 upon You. 
 
 210
 
 CHARLES AND CLENARD 
 
 Charles. Aye, now Thou talkest like a Philosopher indeed : 
 Must we not all bear our Crosses and Disappointments in life ? 
 Clenard. Yes, but there is the greatest difference in the 
 World between bearing and creating them. The first arises from 
 the Malice of Fortune, the latter from the Effects of our own 
 Folly ; for one we ought to be Pittyed, for the other blamed. 
 
 Charles. In every state of life, Friend Clenard, a Man is 
 subject to Mistake; and as the Attempt is higher, the blunder 
 is more visible but (Error excepted) if we cast up our Accounts 
 there is no Comparison between the greatness of my Fortune, 
 and the Obscurity of Yours. 
 
 my share 
 
 In equal ballance laid 
 
 Flings up the adverse Scale and scorns proportion, 
 as Prior says in a Hymn of Call[ijmachus. 
 
 Clenard. Prior may say what he will in Verse, that Hymn 
 was all Enthusiasm, all Heroes Stars and Gods. In prose I am 
 sure he is of another opinion. But what does his Master 
 Horace say, and no body can say it better ? 
 
 Est modus in rebus, sunt certi dema fines 
 Quos ultra... nequit consistere reftum. 
 For once I'l translate it for you, because possibly you have 
 forgot your little Latin you had 
 
 One equal bound there is, one stated line, 
 Which shou'd the Justice of our Aft confine : 
 There right resides, what goes beyond is wrong; 
 Grows idly vast, and trails absurdly long. 
 Now you Heroes never mind this Rule, you always over 
 shoot the mark, or to express it more properly, you do not see 
 the object you Aim at. Yee are so intent upon Conquering 
 that you have no time to govern : Reason should direct your 
 view, but ambition dazles it. So you never attain your Desires, 
 because you never sufficiently consider what will satisfy them. 
 This is the Cause of all those troubles which you bring upon 
 your Selves and the rest of the World. There is something in 
 what is called Heroic Virtue, which exceeding the measure of 
 Nature from Sublime turns to rediculous. When You were a 
 Boy you used to run your Sword against Caesar or Sertorius in 
 your Mothers Tapistry ; hopeful Symptoms indeed ! and when 
 you grew bigger you Attacked people who had done you no 
 
 02 211
 
 MATTHEW PRIOR 
 
 more harm than those figures in the Hangings. In short you 
 Heroes are too forward Children to stop at being sensible Men ; 
 And while you abuse the Trust which Providence reposed in 
 you in setting you to preside over the rest of your Species for 
 their Safety and benefit,, you Debase your Selves beneath the 
 lowest Rank of your Fellow-Creatures. By Jupiter Ammon, 
 your great Predecessor, a drunken Cobler that gets Ten 
 Children is a more useful Member of the Commonwealth, than 
 a hott headed Prince, who without any other cause then that of 
 his own Pride, leads as many hundred to have their Brains 
 knocked out. 
 
 As to the common excuse of enlarging your Dominions, 
 while You are doing it, you ruin your Subjects : I have some 
 Verses for You on that Occasion. 
 
 Recruits and Arms abroad cause Home-bred wants, 
 The Monarch Triumphs, but the Nation faints. 
 His hungry Fame that Corm'rant Bird devours, 
 The Harvest Destin'd to the public stores. 
 New-gather'd Lawrells load the Viftors brow, 
 But Senates aw'd with lower Homage bow. 
 With Io's while they swel the general Voice, 
 Watch'd they are Loyal, and constrain'd rejoice: 
 Their secret sighs belye their loud Address; 
 They speak their Masters Fame, but wish it less: 
 Ty'd to his Chariot-wheels at once he draws 
 His Enemies Ensigns, and his Peoples Laws. 
 His own Success the Soldier last bewails, 
 Above his Pride his Countrys Love prevails; 
 He dreads the Pow'r he did too long sustain, 
 And sees the Sword he drops new-forg'd into a Chain. 
 
 Charles. Why this is a meer Libel, Clenard, down right 
 Sedition every word of it. If I was serious with You, I would 
 tell You, You are a dangerous Person, and ought to be laid in 
 a gentle Confinement, for the good of the Public. 
 
 Clenard. Ha, ha, ha, You really make me laugh. Dont you 
 imagine that we think such as You dangerous Persons, only 
 that for our Private Safety we dare not say so. Am I to be 
 laid up because you cant bear Truth ? I tell You that for the 
 good of the Publick you should all have your Swords taken 
 from You as if You were a&ual Lunaticks, and not be suffered 
 
 212
 
 CHARLES AND CLENARD 
 
 to go a Madding with this Rattle of a Globe to play with. 
 Believe me you grope thro the World with your Scepters, like- 
 blind Beggars with their Staves ; and are moved and directed 
 by the Neighing of a Steed, and the sound of a Trumpet, as 
 those by the barking of a Dog, and the tinckling of a Bell. 
 What a Changling was Cyrus, when he left a fine Country, 
 where he might have Governed quietly, and run over Hill and 
 Dale into a Worse Climate to attack a Woman who had never 
 injured him ? and what a figure did he make when one of 
 Thomyris's Chamber maids Show'd his grim Phyz in a bloody 
 bason ? How rediculous was Alexander when he blubbered for 
 another World to Conquer? and what did Hanibal get by 
 vexing half Europe, but to be made the subjecl: of a Declama- 
 tion for my Boys ? To talk once more of Your own Extrava- 
 gancies, Dear Emperour, when you had given your self such 
 incredible troubles, and made that Universal bustle in Italy, 
 what did You bring home but your own Name of Charles 
 le Quint, corrupted by the Venetian pronounciation into Harle- 
 quin, a little restless Fellow with a black Muzle, a Patch-work 
 Coat on his back, and a lath Sword in his Hand, Assaulting All 
 he met, leaping thro every Mans Windows, and disturbing the 
 business of his House ? And have you not been Represented 
 under this foolish Character in all the Fairs throughout Europe; 
 That Franckfort not excepted, where you valued your Self just 
 now for having been Crowned. In one word, Human Nature 
 is a very poor thing, Neighbor Charles ; Dispotic Power never 
 ought to be Trusted with it, considering what sad Effects 
 Ignorance, self Will & Flattery may produce. I am astonished 
 that an Absolute Monarch does not Degenerate into a meer 
 Driveller. 
 
 Charles. Well, I will not shew my Anger against this 
 
 Word-man. O brave Clenard, why this is all 
 
 Hydrops, Nyfticorax, Thorax, et Mascula vervax. 
 
 Clenard. Upon my word, good Emperor, I am glad to find 
 You understand Your Grammer so well, for I shal be with you 
 upon that subjecl too presently. But first of the first, as I have 
 heard your Story pray give me leave to tell you mine, it shal be 
 very short. You said that the Eyes of all the World were 
 upon you ; Now, I had my Eyes upon all the World : When 
 I was known for a very famous School-master, I travelled thro 
 
 213
 
 MATTHEW PRIOR 
 
 Flanders, Germany and Spain as well as You. I passed into 
 Africa, not indeed with half so much noise and Tumult, but 
 with more Satisfaction and safety. In short I contented my 
 self to Visit those Countries in which you were never quiet 
 because you had not Conquered them. 
 
 Charles. I must confess that jogging on in a Passage Boat or 
 a Stage-Coach with three or four Friends is but an odd way of 
 Travelling ; a Fleet and an Army are delicious Attendants. 
 
 Clenard. Aye Charles, but what other Company had You ? 
 fear that the Bread- Waggons should not come up in due time, 
 doubts lest the Magazines might be surprised. Restlessness and 
 want of Sleep lest Your Design should either be Revealed or 
 prevented; Besides your two Intestine Comrades the Stone and 
 the Gout. 
 
 Charles. There is too much Truth in what this pert 
 Philosopher says, but I must bear up to him for the sake of my 
 Honor, that dear honor, which makes us too often Commit 
 a second mistake in defence of the first — Well, Friend Clenard, 
 you are stil harping at a Comparison between your way of 
 Living and mine. Would you inferr from all this, that every 
 Man in an inferior Station has an equal share of happyness and 
 Glory with those who hold the first Seats in the World ? 
 
 Clenard. Every Man has, Charles, for as to happyness he 
 must form it himself, and this is soon done, when the necessarys 
 of life, very few and easy to come at, almost within every Mans 
 reach, are once Acquired. As for Fame, which you all run 
 mad after, it is not in any Mans own power to purchace it. It 
 depends upon the good will and free gift of other People ; and 
 is only got by a Mans behaving himself so, as to oblige the 
 World to speak well of him. So let the Emperor and the 
 School-master do what they will, One will be called a Tyrant, 
 the other a Pedant, unless they really deserve the contrary. 
 But prythee let me go on. I read books, promoted Knowledge, 
 I was kindly received by my Friends where ever I came : I was 
 invited into Portugal; past, as I tell You, into Africa in quest 
 of Oriental Manuscripts; brought Mahometan Servants back 
 with me, gave them their Liberty, taught them Latin, made 
 them Christians, nay got some of them advanced to the Dignity 
 of Priesthood, an honor to which you with all your Interest 
 aspired in vain, while your Tutor Adrian, a Brother Gram- 
 
 214
 
 CHARLES AND CLENARD 
 
 marian of mine, obtained it : and became more a Master to 
 You, when you were now grown up a Man and an Emperor, 
 then when you was simply Charles of Gaunt, and a little Boy 
 under his Ferula. 
 
 Charles. Egad that last was a home thrust. I must not let 
 him perceive I feel it so sensibly. Once more, I tell thee, 
 there is as much difference between our Actions, as between 
 our Stations and Qualities. Facts, Clenard, real visible Facts, 
 are on my side. Thy Glory is only Speculative ; meer imagi- 
 nation. To alter the Constitution of Provinces, to raise or 
 Depose Princes, to give War or Peace as I pleased : This has 
 laid the Foundation of a lasting renown for me, and a Monu- 
 ment upon which Fame must sit for Ever. 
 
 Clenard. You are a little in the Clouds, Charles, something 
 upon the Ph[oe]bus as the French call it, but I shal fetch you 
 down immediately. A very easy way of reasoning may set our 
 Actions in the right light. Suppose I should walk my Children 
 over other Mens Gardens, let 'em pull down the hedges, root 
 up the Melons, and rob the Orchards ; what would People say, 
 but that I was a Senseless Creature, and a drunken Sot ? but yet 
 when One of you Princes takes a fancy to burn whole Towns, 
 and lay the Provinces round them desolate, you seem satisfyed 
 when you Answer, it was for your Glory. This my Predeces- 
 sors have Preached to Yours for Two Thousand Years past, 
 and very few of You ever mended upon it ; Tho when you are 
 near Death, when the Clouds of Prejudice and Ambition are 
 dispersed, and as my Master Plato says, the Soul sees things 
 with a quicker and clearer Eye, some of You have been forced 
 to acknowledge the Truth of these Maximes. 
 
 Charles. But this is meer Preaching, Domine Clenard. 
 
 Clenard. No matter if it be so, as long as I keep to my 
 Text. As to your Fads therefore (all Errors excepted, as you 
 just now desired) the best would dye almost Stilborn without 
 my Midwifry. Take this as a Maxim, Fads depend upon 
 words: The greatest Monarch and most Fortunate Captain, 
 allowing his Cause to be most strictly just, and the Event 
 equally Fortunate, is obliged for the recital to a dealer either in 
 Syntax or prosodia. The Out lines & Drawings are only seen 
 in the bare action of the Hero ; but 'tis the Scholar that adds the 
 heightnings and Colouring that gives the Beauty, nay faith, in 
 
 215
 
 MATTHEW PRIOR 
 
 great measure the very life and Substance of the Picture. So 
 that this lasting Monument, of which you seem so fond, is 
 founded upon the pleasure of us Grammarians; and your 
 Fame might sit there long enough cooling her heels, silent and 
 dispirited, except we find Idea's to move her Vigour, and put 
 sounds into her Trumpet. Did you never mind a large Ship 
 going out of Port, Charles, with her Sails all spread, and her 
 streamers flying? how insensibly yet how soon, her Bulk 
 deminishes to the Eye of those who stand upon the Shoar, till 
 as the distance increases She becomes quite lost : After this if 
 you would know the Intrinsic Value of the Goods She carryed 
 out, You must apply your Selves to the Surintendants and 
 Customers that keep the Register. 
 
 Charles. Well, what then? 
 
 Clenard. Why then one of you great Men is just that s[t]ately 
 Vessel. And You go out of the World as she goes out of the 
 Harbour. You are "launched into the Ocean of Eternity, with 
 all your Escutcheons and Bandirolls about your hearse; and 
 probably you may have four Marble Virtues to support the 
 Monument you were speaking of just now. But alas ! the 
 Funeral Pomp is soon Diminished, worn out & forgotten ! 
 Age and Accident deface the Tomb ; and it is only one of us 
 Scholars that must take an Account of your True worth, and 
 transmit it safe to Suceeding Generations. Not to go to old 
 Stories how many of You Heroes dyed unknov/n before Aga- 
 memnon, because none of their Contemporaries writ their 
 Story ; or how Alexander wept for fear he should not be as 
 advantageously treated as Achilles was before him. What 
 could Elizabeth of England, or Henry le Grand of France have 
 done, without the Assistance of a Camden or a Perefix ? Yet 
 these were Grammarians, Charles, meer Traders in Gerunds and 
 Retailers of Supines: What need any more Examples ? the thing 
 is Meridiano sole clarior, as we say in our Declamations. Caesar 
 indeed could describe what he saw, and Antonius could tell 
 how he thought. On my Conscience, I think, there are not 
 above three or four more of You, that are Exceptions to my 
 General rule. 
 
 Charles. Spoke in the Style of a Grammarian ! but prythee 
 Man what signifies telling and describing in comparison to 
 acting & Governing. Words are your Province, Deeds are ours. 
 
 216
 
 CHARLES AND CLENARD 
 
 For under favor, Sir, all this while You live upon us, You only 
 write what we perform. Your Chapters and Tomes are 
 divided by our Wars and Treaties; The first Book ends where 
 one of Us Dye, and the next begins with his Successors Coronation. 
 Clenard. We live upon You ! quite otherwise. We could 
 live better without You. It is upon your Account that we 
 suffer, that we are accused so often of Flattery and partiality. 
 When we have conversed with Classicks that leave the noblest 
 Dictates of Morality upon our own Minds, and have inculcated 
 Virtue and Honor into our Youth; We could give the rest of 
 our Time to the contemplation of Nature and study or Phi- 
 losophy. We can live and be encouraged any where, Nay 
 have a part in the Power in all mixed Governments and Repub- 
 licks. Places let me tell You, where one of You would meet 
 but a very cold reception, and make but a very foolish Figure, 
 Just the Reverse of what you say is true (to speak it in as Civil 
 terms as I can) the Obligation is from You to Us. For your 
 own part, tho you did not take your Latin very kindly, You 
 owe it to the care of your Tutor Adrian that you can Spell ; 
 and if You'l believe him as to the Point in question, he had one 
 greater vexation than that of teaching a Dull Boy, for he had it 
 Engraved on his Tomb-stone, that he knew nothing more 
 grievous in life then to Reign. Wolsey (a down right School- 
 master at Oxford) Governed his Harry the Eighth, as absolutely 
 as ever I did my Boys, and even shared the Regal Dignity with 
 his Soveraign, tho Harry was of the Heroic strain too, of a 
 temper not unlike your own. And another of my Profession 
 upon the like Occasion had done pretty well with one of your 
 Successors in Spain. So that you see a School-master can Instruct, 
 nay Personate a King. But vice versa it is very seldom 
 observed, that a King makes a good School-master. Pray take 
 notice that when any Man eminent in my Profession Dies, it is 
 pretty hard to get his place supplyed. But as to Principality, 
 if it is Hereditary, your Son be he good or bad, a Youth without 
 any experience, or a Child in a Cradle, succeeds You. Nay in 
 most places your Daughter, who probably never yet stirred out 
 of her Nursery; and in an Elective Government, when ever a 
 Vacancy happens You find twenty People ready to fill it : A 
 broken General, a Younger Brother of a Princely Family, 
 a Nobleman that has Estate enough to buy it; any Body in 
 
 217
 
 MATTHEW PRIOR 
 
 short. So true is it, that every Man thinks he can Govern, 
 and few know that they can Teach. I'l go a little further 
 with your Majesty, since I have you upon this point. Your 
 very Titles, Your Serenissimus and Augnstissimus are superlatives 
 created by the Power of us Grammarians. Rex Germania, 
 Hispaniarum, Hungaria, Bohemia &c a : Then on to Archidux 
 Austria, Dux Burgundia, Brabantia &c a . Then to Princeps 
 Suevia and Marchio Sacri Imperii, Burgavia, Moravia, and so 
 away with it till one is out of breath. Now, what is all this 
 but so many words fitted civily to their respective genitive 
 Cases; Of which if one be wanting, or misplaced, you can 
 neither eat your Dinner, nor sup quietly in your bed, till you 
 have raised new Imposts, and waged new Wars to obtain 
 Satisfaction for so considerable an Affront. And after all that 
 you can do in these great Affairs, you are forced to address your 
 Selves to Grammarians and Heralds, Your recorders of words 
 and Sentences, that they may be pleased to set You right again. 
 And when ever You have Thought and Conquered with your 
 Ruyters 5c Swashbucklers, are you not obliged to call us in 
 again to draw up your Concordates, Your PaSia and Dip/omata. 
 How simply would you look even upon your own Money if 
 your Titles round it were wrong spelt, h is not a piece of false 
 Grammar in any Article sufficient to spoil a whole Treaty r Quo 
 ad hunc sets one Man upon the Throne, and sends another into 
 Exile : Quo ad banc makes all the Mariages and Divorces upon 
 which the Succession of your Kingdom depend : and for Quo ad 
 hoc it has cut out more bloody work then either the Trojan or 
 Carthaginian Wars. We have had an Account from the other 
 World within this Twenty Year that even the spirit and word 
 of an Agreement made between one of your Successors and his 
 Contemporary Princes made and broke the partition of all your 
 Dominions. Two Latin prepositions Trans and Cum joined 
 with Substantiation (a word invented by Us Schoolmen) were 
 the Cause of all your troubles in Germany ; and the same 
 Contention is stil on foot tho it is now One hundred and fifty 
 years Since we were discharged from having any part in it. 
 And I am credibly informed by an English Divine, who is just 
 come down heither, that there is at this very time a Schism in 
 that Kingdom concerning the Doxology. There is Et and Et 
 on one side, and Per and in on t'other side. And happy is for 
 
 218
 
 CHARLES AND CLENARD 
 
 that whimsical Nation, if their two Universities may be able to 
 compose the difference. To cut the Discourse short ; Great 
 Charles of Austria, Swords Conquer some, but Words subdue 
 all men. Since as you say you love Facts, my Dear Emperor, 
 before we leave this subject let me instance one Fact to You, 
 which neither You nor I can ever forget. When the Mis- 
 fortunes of the Landgrave Philip of Hess had made him consent 
 to Sign a Treaty with you (grievous enough for him in the best 
 sense, for by it he was obliged to submit to a Confinement, 
 from which he thought your generosity would release him as 
 soon as your Vanity was gratifyed in his Personal Submission) 
 To perform his Treaty he presented himself to your Majesty. 
 The Princes of the Empire by whose Perswasion he had done 
 this, and he himself imagining, as I say, that the Confinement 
 was required only, pro forma, that it would be very short, nay 
 but for a Night, and that too spent in feasting and Play. But 
 the next Morning your Chancellor, whom they expected to 
 bring the order of Release for this unhappy Prince, declared in 
 your Name that they were all Mistaken in the matter, and that 
 the Confinement was understood to be Perpetual. As the 
 matter was looked into, this difference was found to arise from 
 an Equivoque in two German words: Einig, some, was agreed 
 to in the Article, and Ewig, perpetual, was inserted in the 
 transcribing it. Now, Charles, for the power of an n and a zu y 
 here is the Grandson of Maximilian of Austria and Mary of 
 Burgundy, the Man in whose blood the Spanish and German 
 Monarchies are United, playing a trick for which a Public 
 Notary in the smalest imperial District would be Censured. 
 And, to say no worse of the matter, the p^mperor both as to his 
 Sense and Honor depending wholly upon the Grammarian. 
 
 Charles. This Fellow presses me hard, and I grow weary of 
 his Company. I'l e'en draw down my main Argument, my 
 great Battering Piece upon him, and strike him dead at once. 
 Well Clenard, what ever there may be of Solid or fickle, 
 pleasurable or Painful in power: He that having Exerted it 
 can lay it down is a great Man. Now, this You know I did. 
 I abdicated all my Dominions, retired to a Monestary and 
 contented my Self with a Pension of Two hundred Thousand 
 Crowns a Year. 
 
 Clenard. A Physitian, who cures himself of a Dropsy, has 
 
 219
 
 MATTHEW PRIOR 
 
 great Skill, but a Man who never had the Distemper has 
 sounder Health. Well Sir, at first view this abdication of 
 yours has the appearance of a great Action. But if it was 
 wisdom it came very late. Disappointments Deseases and 
 Vexations preceded it, and the rising Fortune of Harry the 
 Second helpt it on mightily. Qui sta bene non se more You 
 know : Your Resolution of quitting the World shewed very 
 Plainly you were Uneasy in it. Nay your self confessed in 
 the Harrangue you made to the States of Bruxelles, when you 
 took your last Farewel of them, that the greatest Prosperity 
 you had in the World had been mixt with so much greater 
 Adversity, that you could not say that You ever had enjoyed 
 any real Satisfaction in it. Besides there are Pretty odd Stories 
 about that matter, as if You resolved upon your retreat too 
 rashly, and repented it at leasure. Do you remember what 
 Your Son Philip answered to Cardinal Grainville, when the 
 Cardinal said to him " It is now a Year Sir, since your Father 
 Abdicated." "It is a Year then said Philip, that he was first 
 sorry for so doing." Do You remember the Young Monk of 
 S l . Just, where you were retired and waked him too soon in a 
 Morning. What, said he after you have disturbed the rest of 
 Mankind are you come to plague us in our Cloyster. Can 
 nothing be quiet where you are ? So that you found the Same 
 reflection returned particularly upon You, after Your Abdication, 
 that had generally been made before, and that — 
 
 Charles. Why thou art not well full nor fasting, would 
 thou neither have me in the World, nor out of it ? 
 
 Clenard. Nay, since You were so much in the World 
 that you made your self and every Body else weary of it, I 
 think you were in the right to go out of it as fast as you could. 
 One would not advise a Fellow to Climb to the top of a Spire, 
 where he is every moment in Danger of falling, only that he 
 may have the Chance of saving his life by leaping down upon 
 a feather bed. But now your Abdication at best shewed, either 
 that you could not stand longer upon the Pinacle, or were 
 tyred with standing there so long; So your head turned, Your 
 hand slipt, and down came you. Prythee, Charles, remember 
 these two Verses. 
 
 None climb so high, or fall so low, 
 
 As those who know not where they go. 
 
 220
 
 CHARLES AND CLENARD 
 
 Charles. Whither in Gods Name art Thou running 
 on I 
 
 Clenard. Only to finish my Story and my Comparison. I 
 had my Eyes in my head, I looked hefore I leaped, I never 
 endeavored to Climb too high, so I was never constrained to 
 fall too low. I always walked like a Man Ereft upon my 
 Feet, and as I took not too much upon my Self, so I never 
 relinquished what I had once taken. I had my Share of Credit 
 in the World, because I proportioned my Action to the End 
 desired. And as that End was always lawful, when it was 
 obtained it became Laudable. I never went so far to Sea, but 
 I had stil my Eye upon the Shoar, nor loaded my Ship so deep 
 that I was forced to throw my Goods over-board in the 
 Tempest. I did not divide my Estate in my life time between 
 a Brother and a Son, who had both from that moment the 
 Power in their hands of using me ill for so doing. I prudently 
 kept what I had till I Dyed, and my Goods were not scuffled 
 for, before my Will was opened, and as in life I had not been 
 guilty of Oppression or injury towards Mankind I had no 
 Occasion for a Discipline of Knots and Wiers to quicken my 
 Repentance, and prepare me for Death. Now which of us 
 two was the happyest Man ? 
 
 Charles. Go to, You are a prating Fellow. 
 
 Clenard. I am so, and You are a Silly Combatant to fight 
 me at my own Weapon. Every Man to his Trade, Charles, 
 You should have Challenged me at long Pike, or broad Sword : 
 In a Tilt or Tournament You might probably have had the 
 better of me. But at Syllogisme or Paradox — 
 
 Charles. Confound Your Jargon. 
 
 Clenard. Calm Your Passion, I have no Design to offend 
 You, But You Heroes never rightly know Your Friends from 
 Your Enemies. 
 
 Sir Egledemore that Valiant Knight 
 
 He put on his Sword, and he would go fight 
 
 not three pence matter against whom. In one word good 
 Emperor, we will fairly referr our Dispute to Dionysius, if we 
 can find him yonder upon the Greek Walk ; He that was both 
 a Prince and a Schoolmaster, may very properly decide it. As 
 in the Ancient Poets I remember a curious Question of another 
 
 221
 
 MATTHEW PRIOR 
 
 kind, who had most pleasure the Man or the Woman, was 
 refered to Caeneus, as a Person, whose immediate Experience 
 ought to be relyed on. 
 
 It comes et juvenis quondam nunc fcemlna Cceneus. 
 
 I'l Translate that for You too, for I am in a mighty good' 
 
 humour. 
 
 Ambiguous Caenus has both Sexes try'd, 
 Let him or her the doubtful point decide. 
 
 Charles. I'l Yeild to no Decission I tell you. I am tyred 
 with your Pedantry. I was always subject only to my own 
 Will, and can be tryed by nothing else. 
 
 Clenard. So that we End just where we began. 
 Making the Circle of their Reign compleat 
 These Suns of Empire where They rise They set. 
 But however, Charles, if Princes are Governed only by their 
 own Will, you must confess at least it was a Mad World that 
 we lived in. 
 
 Charles. Adieu, Messire Clenard. 
 
 Clenard. Adieu Monseigneur Charles. 
 
 Charles. But hark You, one word more, pray dont take the 
 least Notice to any of my Fellow Princes of the Discourse we 
 have had. 
 
 Clenard. After all I confess that Injunction is pretty hard, 
 but however I'l obey it. Provided You remember what I 
 have said, I'l endeavor to forget it. 
 
 222
 
 A Dialogue 
 
 between 
 
 Mr John Lock 
 
 and 
 
 Seigneur de Montaigne. 
 
 Lock. Is it not wonderfull that after what Plato and Aristotle 
 Des-cartes and Malbranch have written of Human under- 
 standing, it should be reserved to me to give the most Clear 
 and distinct Account of it ? 
 
 Montaigne. Plato and Aristotle are great Names, but as 
 You disclaim Authority you have no right to quote them, tho 
 a great deal may be said even upon their subject, if the 
 Ambiguity of many Greek words, and the Prejudice we have 
 in favor of Antiquity were removed. But as for Des-cartes, 
 Malbranch and Your self, Is it not more wonderfull that any 
 of You should be Satisfyed with your own Writings, or have 
 found readers to admire them? To deal plainly with You, 
 this single reflection upon Human understanding charges it 
 with a weakness that all your Books do not sufficiently 
 account for. 
 
 Lock. Short and pithy in good faith ! by that sprightly way 
 of thinking as wildly as your imagination can suggest, and by 
 your expressing that thought as flowingly as your Tongue can 
 throw it off, I should judge You to be Michael Montaigne. 
 
 Montaigne. Seigneur de Montaigne, if you please, Knight 
 of the Order of S'. Michael, and some time Mayor of Bourdeaux. 
 
 Lock. Yes, Sir, I know your Person by your insisting so 
 much upon Your Titles, and I find the same strain run with a 
 most voluble impetuosity almost thro every Chapter of your 
 Book; As you see the Simplicity of my mind in my very Title 
 page, where I only call my Self John Lock, Gentleman.
 
 MATTHEW PRIOR 
 
 Montaigne. Diogenes when he trod upon Platos robe (whom 
 you named just now) and was asked what he meant by it, said 
 he contemned the Pride of Plato; A stander by Answered, 
 that there was more Pride in Trampling upon the Purple than 
 in wearing of it. Honor you know is my Idol, so I tell you 
 who I am, and where I live what I Possess and how I act, 
 because I think our Vanities may be so managed as to Sustain 
 our Virtues. Now you divest the Mind from these Human 
 trappings, and strip off her Cloaths to shew her stark naked. 
 The perfection therefore of your Humility would have appeared 
 in Your giving Us a Book without any Name at all. If you 
 had come out like the whole Duty of Man in your Language 
 I would have said something to You. But so it is with us, we 
 would be humble and we are proud, we fall into contrary 
 Excesses, and are guilty of one Vice by a mistaken Design of 
 avo[i]ding another. There is some Crany some winding Meander 
 in every Mans brain, which he himself is the last that finds out. 
 
 Lock. It is for that very reason, good Seigneur de Montaigne, 
 that I searched my own head, and dissected my understanding, 
 with so great Diligence and Accuracy, that I cannot but think 
 the Study of many Years, very usefully bestowed on that 
 subject. I will give You some Account of it : First I found 
 out, and explained that an Idea is the object of the Human 
 understanding, that you may call it Idea, Phantasm, Notion, 
 or Species. 
 
 Montaigne. Which is that any Man may speak either 
 Greek or Latin, as he pleases; then Sir, you proceed. 
 
 Lock. O, most happily ! in proving that we have no innate 
 Speculative or Practical Principles; That Complex proceed 
 from simple Ideas, that Ideas of refle6tion come later than 
 those of Sensation, that uncompounded appearances — 
 
 Montaigne. O, Sir, I know all that as well as if I had been 
 one of your Disciples. Two simple Ideas are the least that can 
 possibly be allowed to make one Complex, many more may 
 chance to be thrown into the Bargain, and a whole set of them 
 may be resolved again into their Native Simplicity to the Tune of 
 
 Ex plico fit plicni^ Solvo, Solvig Solutumg. 
 
 But jerne, Lock, what canst thou mean, if these words expressed 
 any real things, or subsisted any where but in the Writers brain 
 
 224
 
 LOCKE AND MONTAIGNE 
 
 (and faith I cant tell what impression they can make the[re] 
 neither) but if they are, I say, any thing, or can signify any 
 thing, what matters it 3 pence if all you have said be true 
 or no. 
 
 Lock. If you could corredt that Gascon fire of Yours I 
 would tell You that I use these terms as instruments and 
 means to Attain to Truth. You know the Antient Philosophers 
 said Truth lay at the bottom of a Well. 
 
 Montaigne. It may be so, but foy de Gentilbomme, you will 
 never draw her out except your Tools are more accommodated 
 to your Work. In short Sir, call 'em what you will, or tumble 
 them where ever you please, they are but words, bring them 
 together again, they will no more make things solid and usefull, 
 than grains of Sand will make a rope. 
 
 Lock. Before we go any further, tell me truly have You 
 read my Book quite through, and with Care ? 
 
 Montaigne. Yes in good truth I have read it, and just as I 
 read other books, with Care where they instruct me, with 
 pleasure where they amuse me, and half asleep where they tire 
 me. To convince You of the Truth of what I say, I will give 
 you some of your own Axioms, almost in the order in which 
 they lye. 
 
 Lock. With Candor I beseech You. 
 
 Montaigne. O, trust me as to that, upon my Honor. Colours 
 come in only by the Eyes ; all kind of Noises by the Ears ; 
 Tasts and Smels by the Nose and Palate; Touching from 
 every Member (tho some indeed more sensible than others) by 
 the Junction of two Bodies: Red is not blew; A sucking- 
 bottle is not a Rod; A Child certainly knows that the Nurse 
 that feeds it is neither the Catt it plays with, nor the Blackmore 
 it is afraid of. Wormseed and Mustard are not Apples and 
 Sugar ; And there is an Essential difference between a Silly-bub 
 & a BroomstafF. 
 
 Lock. This I tell You is only my Substratum, the very 
 rubbige upon which I build. 
 
 Montaigne. A House of Cards is a stronger foundation. 
 
 Lock. Hear me a little ; from these plain Propositions I go 
 on to greater Discoveries, that an Infant in the Cradle cannot 
 make a Syllogism half so well as a Sophister in the Schools, and 
 that a Hottentote is not so well Learned in the Bay of Sardignia 
 
 p. 11. p 225
 
 MATTHEW PRIOR 
 
 as he would have been if his Friends had Educated him at 
 Oxford or Cambridge. 
 
 Montaigne. Who the Devil did not know all these undoubted 
 truths before You set Pen to Paper, and ever questioned them 
 since ? there are a hundred things plain in themselves that are 
 only made Ambiguous by your Comment upon them. I hold a 
 Stone in my hand, and ask you what it is ? You tell me it is 
 a body. I ask You what is a body ? you reply it is a Substance : 
 I am troublesome enough once more to ask You what is Sub- 
 stance ? you look graver immediately, and inform me that it is 
 something whose Essence consists in extension, in such manner 
 as to be capable of receiving it in Longitude Latitude and Pro- 
 fundity. The Devil is in it if I am not answered. I may 
 sooner pave the Road between London and York than have a 
 thorow knowledge of the least Pebble in the way, except I take 
 this Jargon in full of all Accounts. Socrates, I have some 
 where told You, asked Memnon what was virtue? There is, 
 replyed Memnon, the virtue of a Man, and of a Woman, of a 
 Child, and of an aged Person, of a Magistrate, and of a Private 
 Citizen; and as he was going on, Socrates, interrupting him, 
 said, I am mightily obliged to your Generosity : I asked con- 
 cerning one Virtue, and you have already given me half a 
 Dozen. Now, M r . Lock, I apprehend clearer what is meant 
 by Understanding, than I do by your Definition of it : The 
 power of thinking; and I know better what the Will is, than 
 when I hear you call it The power of Volition. A Plough- 
 Boy says to his Father, Aye, aye, I understand that as well as 
 You ; and to his Mother, I wont do it because You bid me, 
 yet he knows not, all this while, that he hath exercised the 
 Two great and Principal Aclions of his mind, as you call them, 
 or if that Mind had two Aclions or two and Twenty. 
 
 You have heard of the Citizen turned Gentleman, M r . Lock, 
 who had a mind to be a Scholar, and was dabbling in Grammar. 
 He discoursed a long time to his Wife of Regimen and Syntax, 
 and at last asked her, Sweet heart, what is it I am talking now ? 
 on my Conscience quoth She, Husband, I think tis Nonsense. 
 That may be he replyed, You simple Woman : But did not 
 you know all this time that it was not Verse but Prose? Now 
 the good Woman could not be more obliged to her Husband 
 for this Piece of Learning then your Young Senators are to 
 
 226
 
 LOCKE AND MONTAIGNE 
 
 You for the Discovery of some of those incomparable Axioms, 
 which you just now Quoted, when they find them amidst a 
 heap of Metaphysical terms. How grateful are they to the 
 Doctor, and in return for your Civility in giving them Six or 
 Eight words together of which they can make common Sense, 
 how joyfully do they let themselves be bambouzled thro as 
 many Chapters? for among the variety of Errors, to which 
 weak minds are subject, there is one very conspicuous; that 
 they are most prone to admire what they do not perfectly 
 understand, and are very apt to judge of the Depth of anothers 
 thoughts by the obscurity of his Expression. Aristotle I have 
 heard, vallued himself upon having a Tallent of concealing part 
 of his meaning, or rendring the whole Ambiguous : for which 
 damned Affectation I most heartily hate Aristotle, and all his 
 Imitators in this kind. I do not say M r . Lock, that you affect 
 this Obscurity, but I beg your Pardon, while I take the Liberty 
 to tell You, that you often fall into it : while you are sowing 
 Words too Plentifully, you do not always foresee what a Crop 
 they will bear. 
 
 Lock. This is a pretty large Accusation, I hope You can 
 make it good. 
 
 Montaigne. Why, You confess in your very preface that 
 when you first put Pen to Paper, you thought that all you 
 should have to say on the matter would have been contained in 
 one Sheet of Paper, and yet, you See, You have Swelled it into 
 a Volume. How imperfectly therefore did you judge either of 
 the Ext[e]nt of what was to be written or of the Method in 
 which it should be Digested. But as we say in France, the 
 Appetite comes in Eating; so in Writing You stil found more 
 to write. From Ideas most unexpectedly sprung Solidity, Per- 
 ception, Extension, Duration, Number, and Infinity, and from 
 these again mixed Modes, Complex and Collected Ideas of 
 Substances, Identity, Diversity, and fifty other glorious Tresor- 
 trouves, to which you the Master of the Soil have the only 
 right and Property, and are entituled to dispose of them ex mero 
 motu & pur a gratia to all Your Senators, and Disciples, in 
 Secula Seculorum. Now by the same way of working You 
 might have left them Ten Volumes as well as one. Nay 
 every Chapter might have been beaten out into a whole Book ; 
 and after Potentiality, Perceptivity, Mobility, and Motivity 
 
 p 2 227
 
 MATTHEW PRIOR 
 
 (which by the by You should have added to your Chapter of 
 the Abuse of Words) You might have found out Ten thousand 
 other Alitys and Ivitys, that would have looked equally well to 
 the Eye in a Handsome Print, and conveyed just as much 
 Knowledge to the Mind. Why M r . Lock, your very Definition 
 of Liberty, is, that it is something, which You your Self must 
 feel ; what signifies it therefore to Define it at all ? Can any 
 words out of another Mans Mouth make me understand if I 
 feel a thing or no ? Believe me, M r . Lock, you Metaphysicians 
 define your Object as some Naturalists divide it, in infinitum'. 
 But while you are doing so, the parts become so far Separated 
 from each other, that You lose the sight of the thing it self. 
 Another happyness arises from all this that whenever the 
 Writer of this sort of Mysterious Demonstration, and his 
 Reader Disagree (as happened between You and Stillingfleet, 
 and in a case not unlike Yours between South and Sherlock) 
 both are in the right, and both are in the wrong : While no 
 Man else can well Judge what either of them meant. So the 
 Dispute only terminates as it grows forgot, and as the Property of 
 the Bookseller in the Unsold Sheets that contained it, is transferred 
 to his next-door Neighbors, the Grocer and the Pastry Cook. 
 
 hock. So that You, the loosest of Writers, have no great 
 respecl: for my close way of reasoning. 
 
 Montaigne. Really, M r . Locke, I should flatter You, if I 
 said I had. One may read your Book over as the Irishman eat 
 Whipt-cream, and when they asked him what he had been 
 doing, he said, he had been tasting a great Nothing. All the 
 while You wrote you were only thinking that You thought ; 
 You, and your Understanding are the Persons Dramatis, and 
 the whole Amounts to no more than a Dialogue between John 
 and Lock. 
 
 As I walk'd by my Self 
 
 I talked to my Self, 
 
 And my self said unto Me. 
 
 You seem in my poor apprehension, to go to and fro upon a 
 Philosophical Swing, like a Child upon a wooden-horse, always 
 in motion but without any Progress; and to Acl as if a Man 
 instead of Practising his Trade should spend all his life in 
 naming his Tools. 
 
 228
 
 LOCKE AND MONTAIGNE 
 
 Lock. Pian Piano good Seigneur, one must be able to Name 
 ones Tools before one Learns the use of them. But if a Man 
 does not leap Hedge and Ditch, in your Opinion, he stands 
 stock still. I begin, continue and always keep close to my 
 subject, The Human Understanding. 
 
 Montaigne, That's the very thing I object to, I think You 
 keep so close to Your subject, that you have spoiled Your 
 Book. When you have set your self in your Metaphysical 
 Goe-Cart, in order to step sure, You walk too Slow to rid any 
 ground, and as soon as you are out of it, You commonly 
 Mistake jour way. The least things must be Demonstrated 
 to You where no body could have doubt of them, and when 
 ever (which is indeed most commonly) such proof is wanting, 
 You take the whole upon trust, without the previous examination, 
 which any other reasonable Man would make. You strain as 
 the Proverb says, at a Gnat and swallow a Camel ; not giving 
 a just allowance to probability. You sink between two Extremes, 
 and when You are not supported by evident Demonstration you 
 fall into the greatest Credulity imaginable. The Identity of 
 the same Man consists in a participation of the same continued 
 life, by constantly fleeting particles of matter in succession, 
 Vitally united to the same Organized body, so that an Embryo 
 is not a Person of One and twenty ; Ismael is not Socrates, 
 Pilate is not S fc . Austin. Who questions any thing of this, good 
 M r . Lock; Yet by the way, Cassar, who led to Battle many 
 thousand of these Organized Bodys ; Cicero, who could appease 
 or excite them in the Senate ; Bartholin, who could tell You 
 how these Particles lay in relation to each other, and from 
 thence what Remedies were to be applyed to the several Diseases 
 and Violences they suffered ; Spenser who could describe them 
 all in Mythological words ; and Raphael, who could imitate 
 them in Animated Colours; All these, I say, neither thought 
 or a&ed in virtue of your Definition ; and if they did would 
 not have performed any thing better in their Several Arts and 
 Sciences. So again, the Chess-men standing upon those Squares 
 of the Board, where we placed them, tho the Chess Board be 
 carryed out of one room into another, are stil said to remain in 
 the same place; and the Chess-board is stil said to be in the 
 same place it was, if it remain in the same part of the Cabin, 
 tho perhaps the Ship it is in Sails all the while, and the Ship is 
 
 229
 
 MATTHEW PRIOR 
 
 stil in the same place, supposing it kept the same Distance with 
 the part of the Neighboring Land, tho perhaps the Earth has 
 turned round, and so both Chess-men and Board and Ship have 
 every one changed place in respect of remoter bodies, which 
 have kept the same distance one with another, and so on to the 
 end of the Chapter. Who ever denyed one word of all this ? 
 and do You think now that You have explained what motion 
 and repose is, so as to do any good to Mankind. Archimedes 
 found out the burning-glass. Jacob Metius the Tellescope. 
 Sanclorius the Thermometer, and Flavia Goia, the Compass, 
 without Consulting or being guided by any sort of Verbiage 
 like this, and I dare Swear neither Christopher Colombo, nor 
 Francis Drake ever reasoned one half hour if their Chess-Board 
 was in motion in relation to their Cabin, or their Cabin in 
 regard to the Ship, all the while they were sailing round the 
 World, and adding a fourth part to what was known of it 
 before. 
 
 Lock. But when in the name of Patience shal I have 
 Liberty to reply ? 
 
 Montaigne. Immediately, as soon as I have waked your 
 Idea's into a remembrance that you tell us upon the Organiza- 
 tion of the body, That Prince Maurice had an old Parrot in 
 Brazil, who spoke, and asked, and answered Questions like a 
 reasonable Creature ; Who told the Prince he knew him to be 
 a General, that he himself belonged to a Portuguese, that he 
 came from Marinnar, and that his Employment was to keep 
 the Chickens. Now who ever believed this, but Sir William 
 Temple and your Self? and then again upon the rules of 
 Motion ; that a young Gentleman who had learned to Dance 
 in great perfection in the Garrat, where an old Trunk stood, 
 could never as much as cut one Caper rightly in any other 
 room, unless that Trunk or another exceeding like it, was set 
 in the same Position : So that the Man rather Danced to the 
 Trunk than to the Violin. Parb/eu, Squire Lock, I appeal to all 
 Mankind, if ever I said any thing so extravagant as this, in my 
 Chapter of the force of Imagination in Man and Beasts. 
 
 Lock. How this Gascon runs away with things, I do not 
 say I have the exact Criterion feritatis, but I search it. I dont 
 pretend to Infalibility, but as much as I can I endeavor to 
 avoid Error. And since it is only by my understanding that 
 
 230
 
 LOCKE AND MONTAIGNE 
 
 I can judge of other things It is proper in order to that, that 
 I make that understanding first judge of it self. 
 
 Montaigne. There is a Je ne-scay quay in these words that 
 affords me but little Satisfaction. But you Metaphysicians 
 think with too much Subtilty to be pleased with what is 
 Natural. 
 
 Lock. Natural, why is any thing plainer than what I said ? 
 I studied to know my self. Nosce Te ipsum. You love 
 Authority, and I might quote it as the saying of One of the 
 Wise Men of Greece. 
 
 Montaigne. I understand You now M r . Lock, but I do no 
 more respedt it (as much as you think I love Authority) for 
 being meerly the saying of the Wise Men of Greece, than if it 
 had been of one of the Seven Wise Masters of Rome, or the 
 Seven Champions of Christendom : The Truth of the saying 
 must justify the Author. 
 
 Lock. But according to your own way, has the Maxim 
 weight with it, without any regard to Authority ? should 
 not a Man know Himself? Answer Directly. 
 
 Montaigne. I will, Sir, and in the saying of another Wise 
 Man, (of what Country not three Straws matter) he that does 
 not talk with a Wiser Man than Himself, may happen to dye 
 Ignorant. Really who ever writes in Folio should convince 
 People that he knows something besides Himself, else few would 
 read his Book, except his very particular Friends. 
 
 Lock. I will give you up as many as you please of those 
 particular Friends, provided the few (be they my Friends or no) 
 that can think consequentially, and reason justly upon Premises, 
 approve my Writings. In one word I do not write to the 
 Vulgar. 
 
 Montaigne. And they are the only People that should be 
 writ to. Not write to the Vulgar? quoth thou; Egad the 
 Vulgar are the only Scholars. If they had not Taught Us 
 we had been Stupid. The Observations made by Shepherds in 
 Egypt and Chaldea gave birth to Geometry and Astronomy. 
 The variety of sound from the Hammers of Smiths striking on 
 their Anville was the Original of their Scale of Music. And 
 some traces on the sand by a poor Cow-herd gave the first Idea 
 of Painting. Homer and Virgil will scarse be exempted from 
 the Company of the Vulgar ; if One went a begging thro all 
 
 2 3 l
 
 MATTHEW PRIOR 
 
 Greece and composed his Iliads for his bread ; And t'other the 
 Son of a Potter at Mantua, came on foot to Rome, to Solicite 
 the favor of Augustus. Was not Gun Powder invented by a 
 poor Monk at Nuremberg ; And Printing by an Inferior 
 Tradesman at Haerlem. Look thro your Microscopes and 
 know that Lewinhoeck that brought them to such perfection 
 was a Glazier ; and when you next set Your Watch, re- 
 member that Tompion was a farrier, and began his great 
 Knowledge in the Equation of Time by regulating the wheels 
 of a common Jack, to roast Meat. Nay faith the Vulgar are the 
 only Criticks too ; for what is Praise but the Universal Collection 
 of their Consent, and whence can that Consent be derived but 
 from their Understanding our Writings ? iEsop and Epictetus 
 had more sense than their Masters. Sophocles shewed his 
 Tragedies to his Maid. Since our time Racine said, he 
 doubted of the success of his Phaedra till his Coachman told 
 him he liked the Character of Hypolitus. And Boileau Addresses 
 one of his Epistles to Antoine his Favorite Gardiner. In short 
 I am one of those Vulgar, for whom, you say, You do not 
 write ; And in the Name of our whole Community, I take 
 leave to tell You, I think, You have wronged both us and 
 your subject. 
 
 Lock. You are not Serious when You say this ? 
 
 Montaigne. As ever I was in my life, and so I go on 
 M r . Lock, your Mind was given you for the Conduct of your 
 life, not meerly for your own Speculation ; nor should it be 
 imployed only upon its self, but upon other things. I think we 
 should take our Understanding as Providence hath given it to Us, 
 upon Content ; As we could do a handsome Sum of Money, 
 sent us by a good Friend ; and spend our time rather in making 
 use of it, then in counting it. A Man should live with his Alma 
 (as Friend Prior calls her) as he would do with his Wife, 
 having taken her for better and for worse. He should be Civil 
 to her, keep her in good Humor, but not cutt her up like an 
 Anatomy to shew the Situation of her parts, and read Lectures 
 upon the soundness or defects of her Intrails. If you are 
 always tugging at your Purse Strings, you may chance to break 
 them ; and if You turn and tumble the Purse it self, at last you 
 will drop your Money out of it. What occasion have you for 
 a Tongue if you are to talk for ever to your self. If you were 
 
 232
 
 LOCKE AND MONTAIGNE 
 
 always poking your Fingers into your Eyes, you would hardly 
 see the Clearer, and if again your Eyes were continually 
 endeavoring [to] look one upon an other, you would only get 
 a habit of Squinting. If you be stil trying to see your own 
 back, you might one time or other break your Neck. Dont be 
 angry with me, Lock, if in my odd way of Imaging things, 
 I have often thought, that a Metaphysician running in a Circle 
 after his own understanding, is like a Dog turning round and 
 endeavoring to catch his own Taile ; if he cannot take hold 
 of it he grows giddy, and when ever he does, he bites it, and it 
 hurts him, and so he lets it go again. 
 
 Lock. That last Simile indeed was a little Ludicrous. 
 
 Montaigne. I will give you another more Serious, while I 
 repeat to You that your own Mind (in the manner you 
 consider it) is too near you. It is like some uncouth figures 
 and Colours laid together, imparted and unformed, if you look 
 upon the whole too closely ; But if you view it in a due 
 Medium thro the Cylinder opposed to it, the rays rise up to 
 their just Dimension, and shew you something Plain and 
 Intelligible. 
 
 Lock. Simile upon Simile, no consequential Proof, right 
 Montaigne by my troth. Why Sir you catch at Similes as 
 Swallows [do] at Flies. 
 
 Montaigne. And you make Simeles while you blame them. 
 But be that as it will, M r . Lock, Arguing by Simele is not so 
 absurd as some of you dry Reasoners would make People 
 believe. If your Simile be proper and good, it is at once a full 
 proof, and a lively illustration of your Matter, and where it 
 does not hold, the very disproportion gives you Occasion to 
 reconsider it, and you set it in all its lights, if it be only to find 
 at least how unlike it is. Egad Simile is the very Algebra of 
 Discourse. 
 
 Lock. Let me therefore Answer you in your own way, and 
 give you back your Cylinder, while I take the liberty to tell 
 You that the Glass I looked into, was a fair true Mirour and 
 rightly placed. 
 
 Montaigne. Let the Glass be of what Figure you please, 
 if you presented nothing before it but your own Dear Person, 
 what could you see but what flattered the foppery of Youth, 
 and at last shewed only the decay and wrinkles of Age. 
 
 *33
 
 MATTHEW PRIOR 
 
 Lock. And pray, Sir, inform us a little, into what Glass did 
 You look ? 
 
 Montaigne. Into the great Mirour of the World, where I 
 saw the universal face of Nature, and the images of all objects 
 that the Eye can possibly take in. I pursued the Human Mind 
 thro' all her lurking holes, & retreats, the prevention of Educa- 
 tion, the Mimicking of habitude, and the Power of Custom. 
 I represented Ignorance and Folly in their Native Colours, I 
 gave just encouragement thro all my writings to plain Honesty, 
 and to open Honor. Shewed very often, as I said just now, 
 how our Vanity might contribute to our Virtue. I endeavored 
 to find the Medium between the Aversion to Pain and love of 
 Pleasure to mingle our hopes and fears so in their just tempera- 
 ture of what we will at present call Prudence, that if my 
 thought could not enjoy full Satisfaction, it might at least find 
 the Evil of life Diminished. I drew together the reflections, 
 which Courts, Camps, Cities and Nations presented unto me. 
 Gave you fairly my Opinion of Emperors and Law-Givers, 
 Soldiers and Philosophers. I contemplated the Situation of 
 Earths and Seas, the revolutions of the Sun, the different 
 Motions and operations of the Stars ; and from the Works of 
 Nature, and my Observations upon them, I deduced the Being, 
 and forced my Reader to own the Power, of a D[ei]ty. Yet all 
 this while, I durst not pretend to fix the bounds of Truth and 
 Error, at least I thought that could not be done by a sett of 
 Words. It must rather depend, as I concluded upon Experi- 
 ence, or at least Probability. I gave the World my Writings, 
 as the Effects only of my own Meditations ; rather what I my 
 self thought than what other Men should think, and was always 
 so far from setting up for an Instructor, that (as I have often 
 said) I was ready to alter my Opinion as I might be better 
 Instructed by the Discourses or Writings of any of my Friends. 
 This was my manner of thinking. Now, Sir, as at the beginning 
 of our Discourse we had some of your Axiomes, will you let 
 me here give you half a Dozen of Mine. 
 
 Lock. As You please, Sir, I have Patience, and You love 
 talking. 
 
 Montaigne. As to our Selves, first, Opinion and Custom do 
 every thing, divide Us into Se6ts, make Laws and Govern our 
 Lives. Our wishes contemn what is easy and near, and aspire 
 
 234
 
 LOCKE AND MONTAIGNE 
 
 to what is forbid or hard to come at, and whilst we desire what 
 is not in our Possession we less enjoy that which is. Our chief 
 business in life is to learn to bear the ills of it. He that fears 
 to Suffer, suffers already what he fears; Or would you have it 
 in other words, He that dreads Punishment, already suffers it, 
 and he that Merits it, must always dread it — Again, we are 
 always beyond our selves; fear, desire, hope throw us forward 
 into Futurity, and take away our Sense of what is to Amuse us, 
 with what shal be, and that too possibly when we cannot 
 perceive it — We should neither fly nor follow Pleasures, but 
 take them as they come. There is no pleasure so just and 
 lawful but is blameable if used in intemperance or Excess — 
 Have you composed your own Manners, and lived as you 
 ought to do with your Neighbor ? have you done more than he 
 who has written Volumes, or taken Cities? To be Honest is 
 the end and Design of our Life : To heap up, to build, to 
 Conquer, to Reign, are things only Accidental and Secondary. 
 A Lye is below the Dignity of Human Nature. As we are 
 distinguished from other Creatures by Speech, the very bond of 
 our Society is tyed by the Truth of our Words. If falsehood 
 like Truth had but one face, how happy should we be : We 
 should take that for certain, which was directly contrary to 
 what the Liar (if we thought him such) said. But alas ! 
 Error has fifty deviating Paths, whereas there is but one road 
 directly right — Of Valour now ; Who could say better than 
 this, Valour has its Limits as well as other Virtues, and fool- 
 hardiness is as great a Vice as Cowardise — Of Civility ; the 
 greatest Civility is sometimes shown in being less Ceremonius. 
 I have seen People impertinent by too much good Manners, 
 and troublesome with the greatest Decorum — As to Govern- 
 ment ; the Notion of Liberty in a Commonwealth hath the 
 same effect upon a Man born under that rule, as the Glory of 
 the King has upon one born in an absolute Monarchy. And 
 every Man loves and speaks well of the Country where he was 
 born ; and sucked in his first Notions, be it France or Tartary. 
 Hence it is that after all our Travells thro the World we desire 
 to come and Dye at home — As to Science ; Plants may be 
 killed with too plentiful nourishment, and Lamps extinguished 
 by too great a supply of Oyle ; We may have so much Science 
 that it may confound our Judgment. It is not enough to know 
 
 235
 
 MATTHEW PRIOR 
 
 the Theory of things without being able to put them in Practice. 
 In the Commerce of life instead of desiring to learn from others 
 we are only seeking to make our Selves known, and are more 
 in Pain to put off our old Merchandise than to endeavor to 
 acquire any New — Of Solitude ; it is in vain that we retire 
 from the World if we carry our Faults with us, Our Vanity 
 and Our Avarice may follow us wherever we go : No retreat, 
 no Cloyster, no Desart can exclude them : To enable us to live 
 in True Solitude, we must make our Satisfaction depend upon 
 our Selves : We should do well sometimes to fancy we had no 
 Family, no Wealth, no Relations, no Servants, that if any of 
 those Losses happen to Us, they may not appear New — What 
 think You of my Contemplations upon Death ? Things some- 
 times appear greater to us as they are further off. In Health I 
 have apprehended the thoughts of Sickness with more Horror 
 than I have felt it : Go out of the World as you came into it, 
 without Passion and without fear. Your Death is one part of 
 the Universal Order of Nature, and every day you have lived 
 was only to bring you nearer to that in which you must Dye. 
 Can you think you must never arrive at that Place towards 
 which you are always a going ? Comfort your Self you have 
 good Company in the way. A Thousand Men, and ten 
 thousand Animals Dye in the very same moment with You — 
 Now for Two or Three things I have said of Princes; The 
 advantages of the great are mostly imaginary, the inconveniences 
 and hindrances of Life, which they must suffer are real ; While 
 every Man naturally hates to be watched and Spyed, They are 
 the only People that must yield to this Subjection, every Subject 
 thinks he has a right to observe even the Countenance and 
 thoughts of his Prince, and the Master dares not blame but 
 must thank him for his Care. If Princes would begin to 
 retrench from Luxury, and live with Sobriety and Moderation, 
 there would be no Occasion for Sumptuary Laws: in a Month 
 the Court would imitate the King, and the People in a Year 
 would imitate the Court: Virtue would soon be Practiced as 
 it became fashionable. We owe our Submission and Obedience 
 to Kings whether They be good or bad. This regards their 
 Dignity and Office, But we give them our Esteem and Affection 
 in proportion only to their Merit and Virtue. The lives of 
 Princes are subject to be Examined after their Death. The 
 
 236
 
 LOCKE AND MONTAIGNE 
 
 justice which cannot be obtained against their Persons is with 
 great reason executed upon their Reputation. Would you 
 have any more, M r . Lock ? tnort de ma vie. Why you are fast 
 a sleep Man. 
 
 Lock. I might continue so till to-morrow Morning, and 
 when I wake I might find you stil walking up Stairs in Buskins. 
 Aye Sir, and all this, and fifty times more of fifty sorts, all 
 Jumbled, all Pindaric, all like Lucretius world. One Chapter 
 is of Friendship; The next of Nine and twenty Songs of 
 Boetius; One of Moderation; The next of Canibals. From 
 the use of Cloathing away we Scud to a Character of Cato 
 junior: And from Remarks upon Virgil to a Dissertation con- 
 cerning Coaches. This Leaf is upon Experience, turn it but 
 over, you are upon Physionomy, and among lame People. 
 Here is the Resemblance that Children have to their Fathers, 
 and there a Defence of Seneca and Plutarch. In short no man 
 ever dreamt so wildly as you have writ, without the least regard 
 to Method. This Chanet very justly charges you with in his 
 Treatise of the Operations of the Understanding ; When he 
 tells You, that whereas every judicious Man Studys order, 
 there is nothing but Confusion in your whole Book. Pere 
 Ma[l]branch, I think, strikes You home, and Scaliger — 
 
 Montaigne. Scaliger was a Pedant that thought himself a 
 Prince. Chanet and Ma[l]branch were People of your own 
 Trade, meer Metaphysicians, yet Disagreeing in their Notions; 
 The Priest condemns me, but to shew his Judgment : it is with 
 Seneca and Tertullian, good Company however : T'other 
 accuses me only for want of Method, the thing in which I 
 glory. I have observed that there is an Abcidarian Ignorance 
 that precedes Knowledge and a Doctoral Ignorance that comes 
 after it. A Man that writes freely, as I do, as he is in danger 
 to be persecuted by them both, ought to have the Courage to 
 dispise them both ; Method ! our life is too short for it. The 
 general rules even of Morality are commonly too long and 
 tedious. How many young Scholars have been debauched 
 before they have gone thro Aristotles Precepts upon Temper- 
 ance ? and how many more might have fallen into the worst 
 Excess imaginable before they had quite read over Plato's 
 Dialogues between Socrates and his Pupil Alcibiades ? Method 
 in the Sense You mean it, is the thing I contemn ; Tis poor, tis 
 
 237
 
 MATTHEW PRIOR 
 
 little : I put my thoughts down, just as they occurred to me. 
 Could I have better Method than that which the course of my 
 life gave me, and the order of things as they presented them- 
 selves to my View ? How would You have had me range them ? 
 Is it not the Variety it self that pleases while it Instructs ? if 
 the black, the White, the Red, and the Green, were laid upon 
 distinct parts of the Canvas, where would be the Harmony of 
 Colouring, or the tout-ensemble of the Piclure ? You may see 
 the Painters Method upon his Palatte, but he condemns it 
 when he would shew his Science. If all your Lillies were 
 collected together in one Bed, next your House, then all your 
 Roses in another, and all your Sun-Flowers in a third, who 
 would admire the beauty of your Garden ? However your 
 Picture and your Garden are stil the Effects of Art, and Art 
 her Self is gross and poor where her ways of working are seen, 
 She appears most lovely where she most imitates her Mistress, 
 Nature ; But contemplate the great Goddess her self, Ipsa suis 
 pollens opibus : Hills, Cities, Woods, Rivers so situate, that the 
 irregularity makes the beauty of the Prospecl ; and at Night 
 consider the Copes of Heaven, glorious with Myriads of Stars ; 
 not set in ranks, spread into Squares, or circled in rounds, but 
 all shining in a beautiful Superiority to Number and Order. 
 
 Lock. Oh! brave Seigneur of Gascony; Why this was a 
 most noble rant ; tho by the by, the last part of it was stolen 
 from my Lord Bacon. 
 
 Montaigne. It may be so, and he perhaps took it from 
 Petrarch, and Petra[r]ch borrowed it from Cicero, and Cicero 
 again might have it from Socrates, and Socrates from David. 
 If I am in the Possession of a Medal, or a Jewel, what care I 
 if it came out of the Arundel Collection, or was taken by the 
 Duke of Bourbon in the Plunder of the Vatican. If Irene 
 wore it in her Bulla, or even if Memmius brought it to Rome 
 from Corinth ? Truth and reason lye in common to all the 
 World, like Air and Water. 
 
 Lock. Hola, good Seigneur, I remember you have said (and 
 indeed I liked the saying till I now find you contradict it,) that 
 we Praise no Creature, besides our Selves except for his Natural 
 Qualities and Endowments. We commend a Horse for being 
 Vigorous and Handsom, not for the finess of his Harness, or 
 Caparisons; A Greyhound for his swiftness, not for the richness 
 
 238
 
 LOCKE AND MONTAIGNE 
 
 of his Collar; And a Hawk for his wing, not for his Jesses or 
 his Bells. But we dont say you do the same in regard to Man ; 
 He has a Magnificent Palace, rich Equipage, or fine Cloths. 
 Alas! these are things about Him, but not in him. Now apply 
 this to your way of Writing (the point to which with much 
 ado I have brought You) Montaigne has noble Ideas, but they 
 are taken from Plato ; fine Stories, but from Plutarch ; great 
 Expression, but from Tully and Seneca ; and right Quotation, 
 but from Horace & Virgil. Now, do any of these Excellencies 
 any more belong to You than the Harness to your Horse, the 
 Collar to your Greyhound, or the Jesses to your Hawk? and 
 would it not follow, that if Plato, Plutarch, Cicero, Seneca, 
 Horace and Virgil should each reclaim his own, Montaigne 
 hath writ no Book? Speak, Sir, Answer me Logically. You 
 are not used to Pause for a reply. 
 
 Montaigne. Faith I think he has me a little upon the Hip 
 with his Logic. Where one cannot perfectly excuse, all one 
 can do is to recriminate. You know, Sir, I never was a great 
 Admirer of Logic, no friend to your Ergoismes. I have told 
 the World more than once that I had rather be a good Horse- 
 man, than a subtil Logician. You begin as I said to you just 
 now, with propositions, which no body denys ; and go on to 
 prove Paradoxes, which no body will admit. A Man is not a 
 flitch of Bacon, concedo ; Montaigne did not write his own 
 Book, Nego, without the least regard to Bocardo or Baralipton. 
 Can I answer your Question fairer than by returning Your 
 Question; Who did write M r . Locks Book? 
 
 Lock. Why, M r . Lock himself; I tell my Readers almost 
 at the Beginning of it, that I spin my Work out of my own 
 Thoughts. 
 
 Montaigne. Spin ! so does a Spider out of her own Bowells; 
 and yet a Cobweb is good for nothing else that I know of but 
 to catch flies, and stanch cut thumbs. I am so far from con- 
 cealing what you call Thefts, that I glory in them. I have 
 made other Mens thoughts my own, and given them to the 
 World in greater beauty than I received them from their 
 Authors. Let me be compared to a Bee, who takes something 
 from every Flower and Shrub, and by that various labour 
 collects one of the greatest Ingredients of Humane Health, and 
 the very Emblem of Plenty. But to come nearer to You 
 
 239
 
 MATTHEW PRIOR 
 
 M r . Lock, you like many other writers, deceive your self in 
 this point, and as much a Spider as you fancy your Self, you 
 very often cast your Web upon other Mens Textures. 
 
 Lock. What then ? I make the Work my own, by not 
 knowing it was theirs. What ever may have been written by 
 others, if I have not read their Books, what I write is as much 
 my own Invention as if no Man had thought the same thing 
 before me. But you, Sir, have only to go to your Common- 
 place book, find out some Excerpta, and — 
 
 Montaigne. Why, the best one can do is but to compose ; I 
 hope you do not pretend to create. 
 
 Lock. I tell you what I write is my own. Yours is at best 
 but Compilation. 
 
 Montaigne. Why, there is another mistake now, a trick 
 which your own Understanding puts upon You. Your Ideas, 
 as you call them, however you have endeavored to set them 
 right, were so mixed and blended long before you began to 
 write, in the great variety of things that fell under their 
 Cognizance, that it was impossible for you to Distinguish 
 what you invented, from what you remembred. Plato says 
 that all knowledge is only reminiscence, and a Wiser Man 
 than he, that there was nothing New under the Sun : Besides 
 this, My good M r . Lock, Self Love, natural Vanity, and 
 desire of Acquisition help us extremely in these sort of Thefts. 
 In the bounding our Estates, we are pretty partial to our Selves ; 
 Our Neighbors Acre on the left hand, if taken in, would make 
 our Garden on that side, Square ; and if the Wood on the right 
 could be added to our Grove, that improvement would give it 
 perfect Symetry and beauty. Tho here the Civil Power has 
 already determined what is ours and what is not. But as to 
 the extent of our Knowledge, where neither Nature nor Law 
 has made any Prescription, and Human Curiosity is stil pressing 
 forward, we take all that comes fairly in our way, and either 
 think it Originally our own, or at least not trouble our Selves 
 whose it was before it came into our Possession. Descartes in 
 the middle of the Joy he felt when he was certain he doubted 
 of every thing, and only knew his own Ignorance; was just in 
 the same piteous Estate Pyrrho found himself Two thousand 
 Years before: And when he gave Us his subtil matter, he only 
 new Christened Aristotles Materia prima, Gassendi and Rohault, 
 
 240
 
 LOCKE AND MONTAIGNE 
 
 are but Epicurus and Lucretius revived. As to your Self, 
 M r . Lock, you have either Copied pritty servilly from your 
 Predecessors, or happened not only upon their Thought, but 
 their method (of which you are so fond). You seem to me to 
 have worked in the same frame with Dun Scotus, Suares and 
 Baronius, nay faith honest Smiglesius and even Burgersdicius 
 may come in for a Snack with my Landlord. But these 
 Petty Larcenarys you System makers confess the last of any 
 Men ; Till you are contradicted, the Book is all your own, and 
 one continued Scheme. But when you are Pressed, you call 
 Friends of all kinds to your Assistance. While Malbranch 
 writes against the force of Imagination, and the impression 
 which things too lively Painted may make upon our Judgment, 
 his Discourse is filled with that very Imagery and Painting 
 from which he diswades Us, and the strength of his Argument 
 consists in the beauty of his Figures. And when you Seem to 
 have least regard to Orators and Poets, you have recourse to 
 Both for your very turn of Style and manner of Expression. 
 Parblue M r . Lock, when You had writ half your Book, in 
 favor of your own Dear Understanding, you quote Cicero to 
 prove the very Existence of a God. 
 
 Lock. I am not to answer for Malbranch, but for my self. 
 I make use of Authors only as they come into my subjedt, but 
 I never go out of my way to bring them in. 
 
 Montaigne. I wont dispute that ; but in my Opinion you 
 write best when you steal most. When you contradict the 
 Antients you fall into the very Error you blame. When you 
 ask, what more exquisite Jargon could the Wit of Man invent, 
 than this Definition ; the Act of being in Power as far forth as 
 in Power ; within ten Pages you give us as many definitions less 
 Intelligible ; and what miserable Work do you make of it 
 while you are Puzling Tully with the Dutchmans telling 
 what Beiueeging was, when Mynheer explains it to him in 
 Latin Jclus entis in potentid quatenus in potentid ? 
 
 Lock. Well and is not it Nonsense ? 
 
 Montaigne. And is not it Nonsense of your own producing ? 
 
 Lock. I cite it only to prove the Absurdity of the Definition. 
 
 Montaigne. And when ever I cite an Author it is to show 
 his Excellence : There is one Essential difference now in our 
 Two ways of writing. 
 
 p. II. Q 241
 
 MATTHEW PRIOR 
 
 Lock. And faith to do You Justice what ever you write or 
 find written by any body else, you putt it off with a most noble 
 assurance. I cannot but think it must have been a Pleasant 
 Scene enough to see you come Strutting thro by the great Hall 
 of your own Chateau in the Perigord, while one of your Servants 
 or Tenants Sons were reading your Works with an Audible 
 voice to the Country, who came in to hear the Wisdom of the 
 Seigneur de Montaigne, Bayliff of Bourdeaux : How truly they 
 Spelt and pronounced the Names Demetrius Poliocetes, Publius 
 Sulpitius Galba, and Albuquerque Viceroy of Emanuel King 
 of Portugal ; All brought together as if they had lived at the 
 same time, and were as well acquainted as the three Kings of 
 Cologn ; How often the reader Stop'd and Admired, while you 
 were pleased to expound to them your Quotations of Greek 
 and Latin Sentences, Shreds of ancient Orations, and Pieces of 
 broken Verses ; the effedt of a good Father's Care, who taught 
 you the Language by rote ; and of a lively Memory that 
 retained a Million of Idea's, and (as I said just now) gave them 
 out again with very little Judgment, confused and Promiscuous 
 (true French by the way, and good Grammar sometimes want- 
 ing). Confess Seigneur, that it must have been very Theatrical, 
 your dear Self all the while the Hero of the Play. The Descent 
 of your Family, your Coat of Arms, the High Tower in which 
 you lodged, the Page that waited on You, all faithfully repre- 
 sented : And your Dialogue with your Catt so recited, that if 
 Laughter were not the incommunicable Property of Man, Puss 
 might be really allowed to smile upon so fantastic a subject. 
 
 Montaigne. Why, faith, M r . Lock, if you would have me, 
 you must take me Altogether, Gallant or Debonnaire, Serious 
 or Comical just in the Humour I happened to be when I wrote ; 
 too confident perhaps in the Strength of my own natural Parts, 
 and too partial to my own Vanities, yet free enough in con- 
 fessing my defects, and submitting my judgment to the Censure 
 of my Friends. I dont dislike what I heard one of your 
 Countrymen said of me, that by the Style of many Authors he 
 could imagine at least something of their temper, and guess 
 at their inclinations and Virtues; But when he read me, he 
 fancyed he knew my Person, and that he had seen and Converst 
 with me in France, tho I dyed above one hundred Years before 
 he was born. My Ideas, as you Observe, are confused and Promis- 
 
 242
 
 LOCKE AND MONTAIGNE 
 
 cuous ; But stil describing or Painting something, producing the 
 Picture of my Self and a Thousand People more. But M r . Lock, 
 your Work is meer Grotesque, half images of Centaures and 
 Splynxes trailing into Flowers and branches ; Satyrs and Masks 
 interlaced into Knots with Cupids, all imperfedt, and only so 
 joined that the Chain of the Work is stil continued. But 
 however since You are pleased to give the Comody out of my 
 Writings, I am sure you will not take it ill if I furnish the 
 farce, the Petite Piece, as we call it out of Yours. 
 
 Suppose, M r . Lock, you returned to your own Chamber from 
 the business, the Visits, and Pleasures of the Day ; Your 
 Nightgou[n] on, your Books before You. John, say you to 
 Your Man, You may go down and Sup, shut the Door. John, 
 who at his leasure hours had been dabling in your Book, and 
 consequently admired the Wisdom of it, reasons thus upon 
 the matter, the Senses first let in particular Ideas into the 
 Sensorium, the brain, or as my Master admirably expresses, into 
 the drawing room ; which are from thence Conveyed to the 
 hitherto empty Cabinet of the Mind, right ! The vibration of 
 the Air and its Undulation strike the Tympanum of my Ear, 
 and these Modifications being thus conveyed to my Sensorium, 
 certain words in the English language (for no other do I under- 
 stand) produce a Determined conception. John you may go 
 down and Sup, shut the Door, now John has been a common 
 Apellative to Millions of Men these many ages, from Apostles, 
 Emperors, Doctors and Philosophers, down to Butlers, and 
 Valets de Chambre and Persons of my Quality ; some of whom 
 however Christened John, and commonly called Jack but pass 
 for that — Now to none of these could my Master speak, for 
 they are either dead or Absent, it must therefore be to me — 
 Doubtfull again : for my Masters own name is John, and bein°- 
 a whimsical Person he may probably talk to himself — No that 
 cant be neither, for if he had commanded himself, why did he 
 not obey himself, if he would go down, why does he sit stil in 
 the Elbow chair — t'was certainly therefore meant to me John, 
 not to him John : well then go down and sup, go down — 
 Whither? to the Centre of the Earth? there I may sup with 
 Fiends on brimstone broth. To the bottom of the Thames ? 
 there I may Sup with Cod and Mackerell, and as Hamlet says 
 not Eat but be Eaten. To the Coal hole or woodhouse ? there 
 
 Q 2 243
 
 MATTHEW PRIOR 
 
 indeed I may find what will dress a Supper, but nothing else 
 to the present purpose of my own Supping. It must therefore 
 be to the Kitchifn] and in this determined Sense I will receive 
 my Masters kind admonition — Now, again, you may go down 
 and sup ; why if I may, then I may not go down, the liberty of 
 my Volition being undetermined, and the action of going down, 
 quatenus going down, being in it self indifferent to me. Aye ! 
 but you may go down and Sup, the Proposition seems conjonc- 
 tive, I cannot sup without going down, [and tho going down] 
 was indifferent, yet Supping is far from being so, for I am really 
 and sensibly and feelingly a Hungry ; besides you may go down 
 and Sup is not a bare Permission but a Civiler command; And 
 tho I may chuse whether I will sup or no when I am down, 
 yet I ought to go down when my Master enjoins it in so 
 obliging a manner — But now comes an essential difficulty, 
 which however by right ratiotination I hope to overcome. 
 John you may go down and Sup, shut the Door, the Door I 
 take to be a Combination of Planks in an Oblong Figure, 
 artfully compacted by the Skill of a Carpenter, and set upon 
 Compages, Hooks, or Hinges of Iron or brass by the additional 
 Science or labour of the Smith with a Lock applicable to the 
 Action which my Master enjoins me, of Shutting it. This 
 Action is to be determined by my Eye to find out this Lock, 
 and by my hand to touch it. But now again am I, as the 
 order in which the words are Placed may import, first to go 
 down and Sup, and then to shut the Door: No surely, for in 
 the mean time there may come such a wind from the Stair 
 head, that my Master may catch his Death before I have filled 
 my Belly ; There is certainly therefore an Anacronism, or at 
 least an unguarded transposition, in these words, the regular 
 conception of them must be thus taken, not John go down and 
 Sup, shut the Door, but John shut the Door, go down and 
 sup ; Well so far I think I am right. But now as to shutting 
 the Door there is a lock in the inside, and there is a bolt on the 
 Outside, which implyes two Modus's of performing this Action : 
 If I lock the door on this side, how the Devil can I go down 
 except I was a fairy, and would creep thro the Key hole; 
 If I bolt it on the other side, I shut my Master in, which sure 
 he could never intend. Two Modus's I said there were, yet 
 neither of these are proper to the present purpose; there must 
 
 244
 
 LOCKE AND MONTAIGNE 
 
 therefore be a Third, which I believe by a happy concurrence 
 of Ideas I have found out, that is, neither to Lock the Door 
 on this Side, or to bolt it on the t'other, but to apply it as close 
 as may be to the Doorcase, and to leave it in that position, 
 which I take to be equivalent to what my Master meant by 
 the expression of Shutting the Door. 
 
 Lock. Well, Sir, have you done with my Man r 
 Montaigne. Not quite, M r . Lock, I am bringing him to 
 a Conference with your Maid. Let us now imagine the door 
 shut, and John safely arrived in the Kitchi[n]. Margaret the 
 Cook maid sets the' cold beef before him, Robin the Butler 
 gives him a bottle of strong beer, and they proceed amicably to 
 the News of the Day, if the Regent is at Madrid, or the King 
 of Spain upon the Coast of Scotland. If Digwell the Gardiner 
 stole two of Sir Thomas's spoons, or the Match holds between 
 My Lord True Madams Coachman and Prue the Dairy Maid, 
 all this goes on the best in the World, from point to point, til 
 John stroaking Tripp, the Greyhound, says to Margaret, Do 
 you think Child, that a Dog tho he can retain several com- 
 binations of simple Idea's, can ever compound, enlarge, or make 
 complex Idea's ? Truly John, says Margaret I neither know 
 nor care. John Proceeds, and tho you have stewed many a 
 Barrel and quart of Oysters, you never examined if an Oyster 
 was capable of thinking; and tho you have seen many a 
 hundred of Old Men, you never found out that an Old Alan, 
 who has lost his Senses is exceedingly like an Oyster ; as like 
 as he is to a rotten Apple says the Butler. John, Pittying the 
 Butlers ignorance, continues his Discourse to the Maid; Do 
 you believe Margaret that there are any original Characters 
 impressed upon a Child in the Womb. Prythee John, replyes 
 She, let us talk of our own Concerns, what have You or I to do 
 with Children in the Womb ? Still John goes on ; I would 
 fain make you perceive, Margaret, that my body is a solid 
 Substance endued with an Extension of parts; and that you 
 have in your Body a Power of communicating Motion by 
 impulse; that motion will produce an intense heat, and then 
 again that heat — Look you John, says Margaret, I have often 
 told you of this, when ever you get half Drunk, you run on in 
 this filthy bawdy manner — Faith (says the Butler, who was a 
 little Envious at Johns learning) thats e'en too true, John 
 
 245
 
 MATTHEW PRIOR 
 
 always was and will be a Pragmatical Puppy. Puppy ? Says 
 John in what Predicament do you Place the Human species? 
 Sirrah, Robin answers in great anger, I scorn your words ; I 
 am neither Predicament, nor Species, any more than your self: 
 But I wont stand by and see my Fellow Servant affronted. 
 Here, M r . : Lock, you find Bella plus quam Civilia. John & 
 Margaret form their different Alliances, the whole Family is 
 set into a flame by three leaves of your own Book ; and You 
 may knock your heart out for your boyled Chicken, and your 
 roasted Apples. 
 
 Lock. Well, Sir, and what is the Result of all this ? 
 
 Montaigne. That probably neither, Robin, John, Margaret, 
 yo[u] or I, or any other five Persons alive, have either the same 
 Ideas of the same thing, or the same way of expressing them. 
 The difference of Temperament in the body, Hot, cold, Fleg- 
 matic or hasty, create as manifest a variety in the operations 
 of our hands, and the conduft of our Lives ; and our Concep- 
 tions may be as various as our faces, Bodies, and Senses (or 
 sensations as you call them). If I like Assafetida, I say it has 
 a good smell : If you cant indure a Rose, you complain it 
 stinks. In our Taste may not I nauseate the food which you 
 Covet ; and is it not even a Proverb, that what is meat to one 
 Man is Poyson to another. If we consider even the fabrick 
 of the Eye and the Rules of Optick, it can hardly be thought 
 we see the same; and yet no words can express this Diversity. 
 So that there may be as much difference between your Concep- 
 tions and mine, as there is between your Band, and my Ruff. 
 If so, it may happen I say, that if no Mans Ideas be perfectly 
 the same, Locks Human Understanding may be fit only for the 
 Meditation of Lock himself. Nay further that those very Ideas 
 changing, Lock may be led into a new Labyrinth, or sucked 
 into another Vortex ; and may write a Second Book in order 
 to Disprove the first. 
 
 Lock. Aye now Sir I like You, We are come to the very 
 State of the Question. 
 
 Montaigne. Are we so, my good Friend ? why then 'tis 
 just time to break off the Discourse. 
 
 246
 
 A Dialogue 
 
 between 
 
 The Vicar of Bray 
 
 and 
 
 Sir Thomas Moor. 
 
 Vicar. Farcwel then to the Dear Vicarage, tis gone at last. 
 I held it bravely out however. Let me see, from the Twentieth 
 of Henry the Eighth, and I dyed in the twenty ninth of 
 Elizabeth, just seven and fifty Years; Attacked by Missals and 
 Common Prayer, Acts of Parliament opposed to Decrees of the 
 Church, Mortmains in the Legates Courts, and Premunires in 
 Westminster-Hall, Canon Law and Statutes, Oaths of Obedience 
 to the See of Rome, and of Supremacy to the King of England, 
 Transubstantiation, real Presence, Bulls, and Premunires, and 
 that intricate Question of Divorces. But is not that my good 
 Patron, Sir Thomas who gave me the Living, and charged the 
 Clerks in his Office to take no Fees for expediting the Seals 
 because I was poor; indeed I was so then, but God be thanked 
 I took care of my self after, as every Prudent Man should do. 
 Aye, tis he indeed. O dear Sir Thomas, I was very sorry for 
 your Misfortunes ; I was upon Tower-Hill, when You saved 
 your Beard, tho you lost your Head, but by our Lady, I did not 
 like such jesting. I saw you Executed. Oh ! that ugly seam, 
 Sir, that remains stil about your Neck. Oh Sir a head sewed 
 on again never sits well. I pittyed You, Sir, I prayed for You. 
 
 Moor. My old acquaintance in good Truth, the Vicar of 
 Bray, very well Friend, I am obliged to you for your Pitty and 
 your Prayers, but you would have heightned the obligation had 
 you appeared with me on the Scaffold, your Spiritual Advice 
 might have been of Service to me. 
 
 Vicar. O Lord, Sir, I would have been there with all my 
 
 2 47
 
 MATTHEW PRIOR 
 
 heart, but You remember the times were so ticklish, and that 
 point of the Supremecy so dangerous. 
 
 Moor. More proper therefore for a Divine to have Assisted 
 a Lay-Man in so nice a Conjuncture. 
 
 Vicar. O Lord help You, Sir, I thought you had known 
 better than that (at least since your Death) no Sir, more proper 
 therefore for a Layman to have left the Nicety of such a matter 
 to Divines. 
 
 Moor. Well, and did not some of the Clergy suffer upon 
 the same account with me ? 
 
 Vicar. And were they the Wiser for so doing ? the greatest 
 part of Us were against your Suffering Doctrines, and in good 
 Faith we of the Low-Church thought it very strange that with 
 all your Law and Learning you should not have had wit 
 enough to keep your head upon your Shoulders. 
 
 Moor. It was that very Law and Learning that made me 
 lay my head down patiently on the block. My knowledge in 
 Divine and Human Law gave me to understand I was born a 
 Subject to both : That I was placed upon a Bench not only to 
 expound those Laws to others, but obliged to observe them 
 my self with an Inviolable Sanction ; That in some Cases the 
 King himself could not change them, that I was commanded 
 to render to God the things that were of God, before I gave to 
 Caesar the things that are Caesars, And when I was Accused 
 upon a point, w ch I thought strictly just, my Philosophy taught 
 be to dispise my Sufferings, and furnished me upon the Scaffold 
 with the same Serenity of mind and Pleasantness of Speech 
 with which I was used to decide Causes at Westminster-Hall, 
 or converse with my Friends in my Gardens at Chelsea. 
 
 Vicar. Aye, Sir Thomas, but it is a sad thing to Dye. 
 
 Moor. For ought Men know (I speak to Thee in the 
 Language of People yet alive) it was an Uneasy thing to be 
 born ; and for ought they may know, it will be no great pain 
 to Dye : The Friend that stands by in full health, may probably 
 Suffer more real anguish, than the dying Man, who raises his 
 Compassion. 
 
 Vicar. Aye, Sir Thomas; but (to Answer you in the same 
 language) to dye as you did, to see the Heads-man with the 
 Axe, after the Law had passed your Sentence stand and 
 Demand the Execution of it; This sure is terrible. 
 
 248
 
 THE VICAR OF BRAY AND MORE 
 
 Moor. No more than for the Patient to see the Apothecary 
 bring the Quieting draught after the Physitian has given him 
 over. 
 
 Vicar. But that Pomp and Apparatus of Death, the black 
 Cloth and Coffin prepared, your Relations and Friends sur- 
 rounding You. You cannot but remember, Sir, your Dear 
 Daughter Roper following that Father, who always — 
 
 Moor. Hold good Vicar; Aye, there indeed you did touch 
 me to the quick, that beloved Daughter, beautiful, innocent, 
 learned, Pious, that pride of my life, that Idol of my thought ; 
 But yet Reason and Religion soon got the better, and armed 
 me as well against the softness of human Nature as against the 
 apprehension of Death. You see neither of 'these could as 
 much as change or Debase even my good Humour. 
 
 Vicar. But yet, Sir. 
 
 Moor. But again, but yet what ? 
 
 Vicar. Why methinks there is a great deal of difference 
 between Dying and being put to Death. A Man must yeild 
 to the call of Nature. 
 
 Moor. And can he resist the Decrees of Fate. A Man 
 must do his Duty whatsoever may be the Event of it: In the 
 high Station wherein I was placed I was keeper of the Kings 
 Conscience, how could I then possibly Dispence with the 
 Dictates of my Own. 
 
 Vicar. That was a pleasant employment indeed, Keeper of a 
 Mans Conscience who never knew his own mind half an hour. 
 What could the Chancellour think shou'd become of him, 
 if he contradidted his Highness, who beheaded one of his best 
 beloved Wives upon meer Suspition of her being false to him, 
 and had like to have Plaid the same trick upon another only for 
 Attempting to instruct him. You that used to puzzle Us with 
 your Greek and Latin should have minded what your Friend 
 Cicero said in otio cum dignitate, but to be sure in negotio sine 
 periculo. 
 
 Moor. And yet Vicar, Cicero himself was beheaded as well 
 as I. 
 
 Vicar. Why that is just the thing I have often taken into 
 my consideration, he lost his life when he forsook his Maxim, 
 to say the truth ont his Case in some respeel was not unlike 
 yours. He had his head cutt off because he would be running it 
 
 249
 
 MATTHEW PRIOR 
 
 [too] far into Affairs, from which he had better to have receeded. 
 He spoke so violently against Anthony that he could never hope 
 in Prudence to be forgiven by Him, tho Anthony had good 
 Nature enough, and you contradicted Henry, who as to his 
 temper was inflexible, and in his Anger never forgave any Man. 
 
 Moor. But did not Anthony deserve that and more from 
 Cicero. And as to my Case, if the King — 
 
 Vicar. Alas, Sir, let People deserve or not deserve, that is 
 not six pence matter. Have they power or have they not ? 
 Theres the Question. If they have, never provoke them ; let 
 me tell you, my late Lord Chancellor, as there are an Hundred 
 old Womens Receipts of more real use than any that the 
 Physitians can prescribe ; by which the Vulgar live, while the 
 Learned laugh at them : there are as many common rules by 
 which we Ordinary People are directed, which you wise Men 
 (as you think your selves) either do not know, or at least never 
 Practice ; if You did it would be better for You. 
 
 Moor. Prethee good Vicar, if thou hast any of these Rules 
 to spare let us hear them. 
 
 Vicar. Attend then, never strive against the Stream, always 
 drive the Nail that will go, eat your Pudding and hold your 
 tongue, dont pretend to be Wiser than your Master, or his 
 Eldest Son. 
 
 Noli contradicere Priori. 
 Fungcre officium taliter qualiter. 
 Sine Mundum vadere sicut vult. 
 
 and the never failing reason of that most Excellent Precept 
 
 Nam mundus vult vadere sicut vult. 
 
 You see I have not forgot all my Latin, will you have any 
 more of them ? 
 
 Moor. No Vicar, if the whole Hundred be such as these 
 they will make but one great Tautologie, which signifies no 
 more than take care of your Self, or keep out of Harms way, 
 A Maxim which I presume, you did most particularly observe. 
 
 Vicar. You are in the right ont, else I should have made a 
 Pretty Business of it, i faith. I might have been deprived of 
 my Living by old Harry, and perhaps not restored by his Son 
 Edward for want of a Friend to the Protestor. I might again 
 250
 
 THE VICAR OF BRAY AND MORE 
 
 have Chanced to be burned by Queen Mary, and if I had 
 escaped that Storm I had been sure of Starving in the Reign 
 of her Sister Elizabeth. 
 
 Moor. But what did you think was your Business in the 
 World, for what Cause did You live ? 
 
 Vicar. Why to teach my Parish and to receive my 
 Tythes. 
 
 Moor. Oh, as to receiving your Tythes I have no Scruple, 
 but what did you teach your Parish r 
 
 Vicar. What a Question is That, Why Religion. 
 
 Moor. What Religion ? 
 
 Vicar. Again, sometimes the Antient Roman Catholick, 
 some times that of the Reformed Church of England. 
 
 Moor. How came you to teach them the first ? 
 
 Vicar. Why my Canonical Obedience, the order of my 
 Diocessan Bishop, the Missal and Breviary all enjoyned it. 
 
 Moor. How happened it then you taught the t'other. 
 
 Vicar. Why New A6ts of Parliament were made for the 
 Reformation of Popery. My Bishop was put into the Tower 
 for Disobeying them, and our Missals and Breviarys were 
 burnt. You are not going to Catachise me, Are you ? 
 
 Moor. And You continued stil in your Vicarage of Bray ? 
 
 Vicar. Where would you have had me been ? in Foxes 
 Book of Martyrs? 
 
 Moor. Soft and fair, Vicar, only one word more. Did you 
 make all those leaps and Changes without any previous Ex- 
 amination, as to the Essential good or ill of them ? 
 
 Vicar. Why, what should I have done ? The King had 
 a mind to fall out with the Pope. Would you have a single 
 Man oppose either of these mighty Potentates ? His Highness 
 upon the Quarrel bids me read the Mass in English, and I do so. 
 His Son Edward enjoins the same thing, and I continue my 
 Obedience. Queen Alary is [in] Communion with the Church of 
 Rome, and She commands me to turn my English Mass again 
 into Latin. Why then things are just as they were when first 
 I took Orders. Elizabeth will have it Translated back into 
 English. Why then matters stand as they did when I first 
 reformed. You see, Sir, it was the Opinion of the Church 
 of which I was a Member, that Changed, but the Vicar of 
 Bray remained always the same Man. 
 
 251
 
 MATTHEW PRIOR 
 
 Moor. What Colours do we put on our Errors and our 
 fears ? And you Discharged your Duty all this while ? 
 
 Vicar. Exaclly : I never missed my Church, was civil to 
 my Parishioners and gave something to the Poor. 
 
 Moor. And You Preached boldly and bravely without 
 respect to Persons ; You made Foelix tremble ? 
 
 Vicar. By Fcelix I suppose You mean Old Hall ; No, by 
 our Lady, He made us all tremble. To tell you the Truth 
 ont, Sir Thomas, I always preached in general at the Vices 
 of the Times, but took care not to be too particular upon those 
 of any great Men. Sometimes indeed I ventured a little 
 against Pluralities or Non residence because if any Man was 
 touched he durst not openly show his resentment, and neither 
 of these Cases affected my self, but I always took care to find 
 Texts and Deduce Doctrines from them a Propos enough. 
 When Harry went to the Siege of Bologne it was David that 
 went out against the Jebusites, or the Moabites. When he 
 would be Divorced from Old Kate, and had a mind to Nanny 
 Bullen ; why Vas[ht]i was put away, and Esther was taken unto 
 Ahasuerus into the House Royal. Little Edward was Josiah, 
 who destroyed the high Places. Then Mary again was Deborah 
 or Judith, who restored the antient Laws and Customes of the 
 People of Israel. Elizabeth as she succeeded to the Crown, 
 had right to the same Texts, only with new Applications and 
 with this difference that to Exalt her Praise I always clapt 
 a little of the Jesabel or Athalia upon her Predecessor. 
 
 Moor. So that all this time you told no body their Faults ; 
 Put the case now that you had been a Surgeon, you would 
 never have applyed Medicaments to the proper wound. If you 
 had been a Mariner you would not have stopped that part of 
 the Ship where the Leak was sprung. 
 
 Vicar. But I was neither a Surgeon, nor a Mariner, what 
 signifies putting cases ? I was a Parson and Preached — 
 
 Moor. Rather Panegyrics I perceive than Sermons. 
 
 Vicar. No, not quite so, but they were rather Sermons 
 indeed than Satyrs. 
 
 Moor. How Sedulously do we endeavor to shun the 
 Exercise of Virtue, and what excuses do we make to cover 
 Vice. You never Preached therefore against Ambition or 
 Luxury before Cardinal Wolsey. 
 
 252
 
 THE VICAR OF BRAY AND MORE 
 
 Vicar. No more than before You, I would have preached 
 against Levity of Speech ami vain Jesting. 
 
 Moor. But You ought to have done so, and we should Both 
 have been bound to thank You. 
 
 Vicar. Aye, Sir Thomas, but would either of You have 
 prefer'd Me? 
 
 Moor. That indeed is the main Question. Alas how we 
 squander away our Days without doing our Duty. Desirous 
 stil to lengthen life, while we lose the very Causes for which it 
 was given to Us ; and thus you trifled Fourscore Years without 
 doing any good or intending it. 
 
 Vicar. Indeed, Sir, I thought that it was very well that 
 I did not do much harm. Trifled away fourscore Years said 
 You, Aye, that I did indeed, and was very sorry when they 
 were passed. 
 
 Moor. But while they were passing were you not under 
 a thousand apprehensions ? did you not suffer continual un- 
 easiness in the frequent changes that happened as well in the 
 Church as the State? 
 
 Vicar. O Sir, you may be sure I did. Every body in the 
 World we lived in had his troubles. I had one particularly 
 that vexed me mightily, the constant fear of losing my 
 Vicarage. 
 
 Moor. But I presume you armed your self against that 
 fear. 
 
 Vicar. As well as 1 could, Sir, when I could not do as well 
 as I would. When ever any New Law was made, or any 
 harsh injunction laid upon Us, away went I to some Clergyman 
 or Casuist, who had a good repute for knowing these kind 
 of things, and had himself already Conformed as to the Point 
 in Question, and then I constantly carryed with me an 
 inclination to be convinced, which you know goes a great way 
 in matters of this Nature, so admitting some things for Truth 
 without too Scrupelously seeking for Demonstration, and 
 suppressing some Scruples that might have been troublesome, 
 I generally made the best of a bad Market, and got safe again 
 out of the Briars. If things looked bad one Day, I took a Cup 
 of Ale, and hoped they would be better the next. When they 
 were very bad indeed, I concluded they were at the worst, and 
 so, I tell you, on I jogged. 
 
 253
 
 MATTHEW PRIOR 
 
 Moor. How naturally the shallowness of thought in this 
 Man increases the severity of it in the mind of a Wiser. 
 When we reflecT: upon our past life, we find it charged with 
 Misfortunes & Calamities yet we never think of the future 
 but in expectation of receiving it enlivened with Joy and 
 Pleasure. Our whole life all this while runs like the Current 
 of the same river and to morrow comes on just as Yesterday 
 past. Why therefore do we rather hope than dread what it 
 may bring. Why do we not think in Probability it may 
 rather make us Miserable than happy. How is it that scarse 
 enjoying the present we turn our thought forward into a 
 Futurity which the Will of Heaven in equal Wisdom and 
 Pitty conceals from Us. A Futurity which may never be Ours. 
 But suppose it shal be, suppose it coming with all the Delights 
 that the wildness of our imagination can suggest, is it more 
 durable, is it less rapid in its course than the past, than the 
 Present ? while I am speaking it Approaches, and while I say 
 it is arrived alas ! it is gone for ever. The fugitive never Stops, 
 but we insensibly follow it till Tyred with the Pursuit we fall 
 into our Grave. 
 
 Vicar. Aye, Sir, that Grave is an ugly Hole indeed, when 
 once a Man slips his foot into it — 
 
 Moor. You have therefore thought of Death. I am glad 
 at least I have brought you to this point. 
 
 Vicar. Thought of Death, Sir, aye that I have and with 
 different Agitations; Sometimes indeed with pleasure enough, 
 for my Parish is of large Extent, and when any body Dyed in 
 it that could pay, I had my Dirge and Funeral Fees, besides 
 my share of Ale, and the Company of a good many Friends, 
 but then again when any of the Poor Dyed, whom I was 
 forced to Bury gratis, especially in the Winter time, Egad I did 
 not like Death at all. 
 
 Moor. Droll, But did You think of your own Death? 
 
 Vicar. Very seldom, and yet in good Troth often enough. 
 You must know I buryed my Parish twice over, and I strove 
 to forget every one of them as soon as I had laid them under 
 ground. There was one Clergyman in my Neighborhood, 
 who was four Years older than my self, it was a great Comfort 
 to me to see him in good health, Egad I lived at him. 
 At 'other side I never was heartily a Friend to my Curate, a 
 
 254
 
 THE VICAR OF BRAY AND MORE 
 
 lusty young Fellow with large white Teeth, and a Vermillion 
 countenance. I was always Apprehensive He'd out-live Me, and 
 put in to be my Successor. 
 
 Moor. Strange illusion ! of which even Death has not cured 
 this Wretch. We join Ideas which in Nature have no Co- 
 herence. Our fear of Death gives us not sufficient leasure to 
 consider what Death it self is, we dare hardly think that it 
 makes a total separation between our Mind and our Body, and 
 we provide for our selves after Death as if that separation was 
 not to be made. Are we to be Alive and dead at the same 
 time, idle and superstitious way of thinking. What was it to 
 this Vicar who should enjoy that Benefice from which death 
 has given him an Eternal Quietus. Yet with great regret he 
 considers who shal possess the Tythes when he shal neither 
 have Mouth to receive, or Stomach to digest the Produce. Yet 
 with Envy he mentions that Man that shal present thelnsense, 
 or Adorn the Altar, when he shal neither Smell nor See. But 
 why should I blame him of an Error common to us All. Have 
 not the greatest Men desired Monuments to be raised over them 
 that the Eyes of all the World might Gaze on, whilst they 
 have Dreaded the thought that the Dust and bones hid under 
 the Marble should be exposed to the sight of their Surviving 
 Friends. 
 
 Vicar. Why, really Sir Thomas you Preach very well. I 
 begin to think there was some mistake in our Affairs while we 
 were in the troublesome World, of which you are talking. We 
 should e'en have changed Stations: If you had been Vicar of 
 Bray, the Parish might have had excellent Sermons, and if I 
 had been Chancellor of England, I'll give You my word for it, 
 I would have kept my Head. 
 
 Moor. Tis true, Vicar, we seldom are in life what we 
 seem to be, I jested upon the Bench, yet guarded my Actions 
 with the greatest Severity, and You looked gravely and talked 
 Morally in the Pulpit, without any resolution of living up to 
 that you taught others. But, Vicar, what you all this while 
 call Living is only breathing! Did you think Morality was 
 but Discourse, and that Virtue was not to be Preached ; Did 
 not you know that you must never prefer your Safety to your 
 Honor, or your life to your Conscience. You said just now 
 that you had not forgot all Your Latin. Does not Horace tell 
 
 255
 
 MATTHEW PRIOR 
 
 You that neither the Fury of ill Men in Power, nor the frown 
 of a Tyrant can alter the Resolution, or bend the Mind of a 
 Man strictly just and Honest ; And Juvenal that tho Phalaris 
 stood by with his brazen Bull, the Martyr should rather 
 suffer flames and racks than deviate the least Tittle from 
 Truth. 
 
 On her own worth true Virtue rear'd 
 Nor dreads Disgrace nor seeks Reward : 
 But from Her higher Orb looks greatly down, 
 On Life or Death, a Scaffold or a Throne. 
 
 Vicar. The meer fancy of Poets. Ah, Sir Thomas You 
 were always too much Addicted to that sort of reading ; It is 
 that which spoiled You : Egad those whimsical Fellows have 
 done more Mischief in leading the Minds of Grave People 
 aside by a contempt of Pain and Death, than in Debauching 
 Youth by too lively Descriptions of Love and pleasure. 
 
 Moor. Come on then, You shal have some Prose-Men ; 
 I'll oblige You if I can : has not Plato writ a whole Volume to 
 explain how reasonable it is that we should rather consent to 
 Dye than to do Evil ? and has not his Imitator Cicero, com- 
 menting upon the Text instructed us that we ought to be so 
 far from fearing Death, in this Case, that we should contemn 
 it. What think you of those Minds who have Practised what 
 these Philosophers taught of Socrates, Aristides and Phocion, of 
 Regulus, Cato, and Brutus. 
 
 Vicar. Heathens all, by the Mass, meer Pagan-Heathens ; 
 Why, I read Plutarch when I was a Young Man at the 
 University, he is full of these People. When ever the Game 
 did not go well they always threw up the Cards, and when 
 they could not Rule the World, a Whim took them that they 
 would stay no longer in it. 
 
 Moor. Now the Doctor is in for it indeed. Well, I hope 
 Sir, since you came from the University you have read of some 
 Christians who were of this Opinion too : What think You of 
 S l . Polycarp, who asserted what he thought was Truth in 
 opposition to the whole Roman Empire, and a growing Herecy 
 in the Church, and that too in the moment he was sure to Dye 
 for it? What of S 1 . Cyprian, who when an Equivoque, or 
 Silence it self might have Saved him, scorned even Delibera- 
 
 256
 
 THE VICAR OF BRAY AND MORE 
 
 tion, in asserting his belief, and confirmed it in the presence of 
 an angry Judge, and in the sight of that Fire, that was to con- 
 sume him to Ashes? 
 
 Vicar. Aye, Sir, and S l . Lawrence, was broiled on a Grid- 
 iron, and S'. Protatius had his Head cutt off, and a great many 
 more of them : Lord, there were Females too, S l . Ursula, was 
 Stabbed with a Ponyard, and S l . Catharine, broke upon the 
 Wheel. Why do you think I am not acquainted with the 
 Army of Martyrs. Oh Dear, Sir, as their Holy-days came, I 
 constantly did em Justice in my Prones, and set out their 
 Relicts to be kissed by the People. I had one Sermon, you 
 must know, that Mutatis Mutandis did the business for a great 
 many of them. I clapt all the praise I could upon the Saint of 
 the Day, and e'en let the rest of the Calendar take it as they 
 thought fit. 
 
 Moor. And as you shewed, I suppose, you respected the 
 Relifts of these Saints. 
 
 Vicar. Aye marry did I. 
 
 Moor. Without any resolution to follow their Example. 
 
 Vicar. Lord, Sir, They had their way to Heaven, which in 
 all Probability was the nearest ; You were pleased to take That : 
 very well, I had mine, it was a little about indeed, why very 
 well again. We were not all born to be Martyrs any more 
 than Lord Mayors. 
 
 Moor. Strange is it, that after all that the Wisest and best 
 Men of all ages have said and writ on this subject of life and 
 Death, the great Majority of Mankind stil argue and adt like 
 this poor Vicar ; Look you, my old Friend, without entering 
 into any particular point of Religion, I repeat to you that we 
 have Two Duties, One to our Selves, the other to the Public. 
 That either as we are Private Persons or Members of the 
 Common-weale, our life on many occasions is not our own, 
 and our Conscience only is the Guide, and the Disposer of it. 
 
 Vicar. Well, I do not flatly deny any thing of all this, 
 Sir Thomas, but methinks we should make those many 
 Occasions as few as we could. There may be certain times 
 for those Tryals, but one must not pradtice such dangerous 
 experiments every Day : Our Duty may be divided, and in 
 that case, sure we may take the safer side. You that were 
 a Judge know very well that we are obliged to conform to the 
 
 p. ii. R 257
 
 MATTHEW PRIOR 
 
 Laws of the Land. S' life it would be a foolish mistake if a 
 Man should fancy himself a Martyr to Religion and to be 
 trussed up in Fact as a Traytor to the King: A Man has but 
 one Neck, Sir Thomas, and I tell you it is a Point that 
 requires very Mature deliberation. Good, Sir, do but think 
 a little. 
 
 Moor. Vicar, the beginning, Progress, and Ultimate end of 
 Thought can only inform You that Truth is to direct all your 
 Actions, and that Courage is only a Virtue as assistant to truth, 
 else you wander without a Guide, and you Sail without a 
 Compass. Your Caution is but Cowardise, and your Discre- 
 tion is double dealing. You scarce can pardon your own fears 
 to your self, your Conscience therefore must direct your 
 Prudence, and your Virtue must be entire, that your Honor 
 may be unspotted : Life and Death all this while are only 
 things Accidental. 
 
 Vicar. Why, Sir Thomas, whilst you talk thus you are 
 laying the Model of your own Utopia. Pray, is not self 
 preservation a Principle of Nature, is it necessary that we run 
 absolutely into danger, should we not comparatively weigh 
 Circumstances, and may not some precepts which you take 
 litteraly be understood figuratively; and consequently may not 
 some points be essential only in relation to some Cases, and 
 may not others be indifferent, as to other Cases. 
 
 Moor. What are you got into the old Cant, lurking behind 
 distinctions, and arming your self with Adverbs. I said, I 
 would not enter into any dispute of Religion with You. But 
 take this at least as an Axiom that your Schoolmen have not 
 only obscured their Texts, but perverted them. Essentially, 
 Absolutely, formally, comparatively, and Figuratively, well 
 ingrafted upon Interest and Knavery, are sufficient to divide 
 Five Nations, and Produce as many Heresies. Once for all, 
 Vicar, every Man is obliged to suffer for what is right, as to 
 oppose what is Unjust. 
 
 Vicar. Aye, but a Man may be mistaken in what he thinks 
 right, as I fancy you were in the Point of the Popes Supremacy. 
 Odzooks, Sir, to venture ones Head in a doubtful Cause — 
 
 Moor. Suppose the Cause to be false, when I had done my 
 best to inform my self that what I did was Legal, and could 
 not be convinced to the contrary, I had nothing more to do 
 
 258
 
 THE VICAR OF BRAY AND MORE 
 
 but to submit my self to the Severity of the New made Law, 
 and leave the Event to the Creator, and disposer of the World. 
 So, I tell Thee again that an upright and unprejudiced Con- 
 science is our Plea before any Humane Tribunal : Nay more, 
 that it is at once the Law and Judge, that must Convict or 
 absolve Us, in all we do or think, though we stand Accused by 
 no Man. The Basis of all Religion and the Bond of all 
 Society is founded upon this Strict adherence to Truth, and 
 constancy of Mind in the defence of it. 
 
 Conscience, Thou solemn Bond of mutual Trust, 
 Prop to the Weak, and Anchor of the Just ; 
 Fructif'rous root whence Humane Virtues spring; 
 The Subjects Law, and safety of the King : 
 Appeas'd by Thee our inward Tumults cease, 
 Thou guid'st our feet into the Paths of Peace : 
 Fair Polar-Star, whose influencing ray 
 Directs our Toil, and manifests our way ; 
 Shou'd Cloud or Storm, Thy Radiant beams obscure, 
 Yet those who hope they follow Thee are sure 
 Tho tyr'd by Day, they pass the Night in rest 
 And going wrong, yet seeking Right are blest. 
 
 Vicar. Are those Verses of your own making Sir Thomas ? 
 Why really they are pretty enough, but a little hobling in the 
 Number. 
 
 Moor. They are not so much to be Praised as Practised, 
 I'l give you some Translated from a Greek Epigram, that 
 carry almost the same sense in a Style something more flowing. 
 
 While thro the depth of Lifes tempestuous Sea 
 Our little Vessel cutts its destin'd way. 
 Now prosp'rous Insolence and wealthy pride 
 With rolling Billows swell the impetuous Tyde ; 
 Now Care and Want in hollow Tumult roar, 
 Threatning to dash us on the dangerous Shoar. 
 Around us and above with various rage 
 High and low Deaths alternately engage ; 
 Fix'd on a Rock upon the distant strand "1 
 
 Bright Virtue does our Only Pharos stand 
 Contemns the Winds and Waves, and points us safe to Land. J 
 
 Vicar. Pough, hang it, this is all but the second part of the 
 same Tune. Come, Sir Thomas, you us'd to love a little 
 
 r 2 259
 
 MATTHEW PRIOR 
 
 Mirth. I'l repeat You some Verses that a Friend of mine 
 brought down hither with him t'other Day. 
 
 Your Conscience, like a fiery Horse, 
 Shou'd never know his Native force : 
 Ride him but with a Moderate Rein, 
 And stroke him down with Worldly gain ; 
 Bring him, by management and Art, 
 To every thing that made him start ; 
 And strive by just degrees to settle 
 His Native warmth and height of Mettle : 
 And when by use he once has gott 
 An honest, canting, low-Church trott, 
 He'll carry You thro thick and thin, 
 Secure, tho dirty, to your Inn. 
 But if you give the Beast his head, 
 And prick and spur him to his speed ; 
 The Creature strait begins his Tricks, 
 He foams and neighs, Curvets and kicks, 
 He getts the Bitt between his Teeth, 
 And runs his Rider out of breath : 
 Better you n'er had rid abroad ; 
 For, down you come — as sure as Laud. 
 
 We may be allowed to know who Laud was tho he lived 
 since our time, for sure it is as reasonable for Us here to 
 mention a Man that was born since we Dyed, as it is for those 
 in the t'other World to quote an Author that dyed before they 
 were born. 
 
 Moor. I like your Thought well enough, But the Verses 
 you repeat were meant as a Satyr upon that very sort of 
 Conduct, which you seem to commend. You put me in mind 
 of some German Doctors that reading the little book of my 
 Friend Erasmus fancyed he wrote a real Panegyric upon the 
 folly he was laughing at. 
 
 Vicar. Be it as it will with the Verses : In honest Prose 
 I must tell You Sir Thomas, that in difficult Cases there must 
 be some Allowances made ; if we cannot bring the Thing to 
 our Conscience, we must e'en strive as much as we can to 
 bring our Conscience to the thing. Mahomet and the 
 Mountain seems to me not so unreasonable as some strait 
 laced Christians think it. 
 260
 
 THE VICAR OF BRAY AND MORE 
 
 Moor. Go to, I contemn you now. If I were to be 
 Chancellor again, and had all the Livings in the Land to 
 dispose of, I would not give You One of them. 
 
 Vicar. If all succeeding Chancellors were of your Opinion 
 your Livings would want incumbents, and the Civil Power 
 might send out Press-gangs for Priests to supply the Parishes. 
 
 Moor. How few are there that dare exercise a true and 
 active Virtue ; Too many there are indeed that live in the 
 open Practice of impudent and successful Vice. But the Mass 
 of Mankind is a Multitude of such Animals as this Vicar, the 
 burthen of the Earth who only feed upon it without endeavor- 
 ing to deserve the Bread it affords them, Wretches who in 
 having done nothing have done ill. Negative ldeots who sink 
 into folly for want of Courage to aspire to Wisdom, and think 
 nothing bad or hurtful except they may be Indidted for it at 
 the next Quarter Sessions. This Man now would not commit 
 any famous Wickedness, yet how far is he from being Honest. 
 Well, as bad as they say the World is, there are fifty idle 
 Knaves in it, for one determined Villain. 
 
 Vicar. Twenty for One is as much as I can grant You : 
 Ah Sir Thomas, tis very true what Doctor Burnet says of You, 
 that you mixed too much Gall with your Ink. Egad with 
 these Maximes of Yours you would raise both Court and 
 Country against You, and if You had as many heads as there 
 are Loops upon your Gowne, You might run a fair risk to 
 have them all cutt off. 
 
 Moor. What then ? many better heads would have been 
 confirmed by my Example, and I should have answered the 
 end for which life was given me. 
 
 Vicar. Admirable Philosophy indeed, in the Practice of 
 which You were beheaded on Tower-Hill at Fifty three, 
 whereas I without it dyed quietly in my bed at Eighty. Since 
 I am afraid your Lordship may grow Angry, which would be a 
 little against Your Stoicism, and since You may be assured that 
 if we were to live again I should never be a Convert to your 
 Doctrine, it is time we should part. 
 
 Moor. With all my heart, Adieu Thou poor Spirited Parson 
 with thy Vicarage of Bray. 
 
 Vicar. Thou great Chancellor of England without a head, 
 Adieu. 
 
 2b i
 
 A Dialogue 
 
 between 
 
 Oliver Cromwell, 
 
 and 
 
 his Porter. 
 
 Oliver. What a Vicisitude does Death bring to Human 
 Affairs ? No Coronet on my head, no Purple Robe to my 
 back, no Scepter in my hand ! neither Heralds before, nor 
 Guards around me ! justled and affronted by a Hundred 
 Cavalier Ghosts whom I ruined in t' other World ! His't and 
 scoffed at by as many Republican Spirits whom I Cajoled and 
 Betrayed ! — 
 
 Porter. To which You may add, the Charges of your 
 Funeral not paid ; Your Son unable to sustain the Soveraignty 
 Six Months ; The Lives and Fortunes of all England Presented 
 to him in Addresses, now wrapping up Anchovies or lining old 
 Trunks, and the Subscribers Ashamed of their own hands. 
 Your Counsellors heads upon Westminster-Hall ; The Royal 
 Family Restored ; and Public matters turned again into the 
 Antient Channel. Your own dear Carcase hanged at Tyburn ; 
 and your quondam Subjects striving who can most emphatically 
 curse your Memory ! 
 
 Oliver. Who is this that seems to know my Affairs so well, 
 and is so familiar with my Person ? by the length of his Ear, 
 and the sulleness of his brow it should be my old Porter. Tis 
 he indeed, and glad am I to find One here that I can command, 
 hark you Sirrah ! make way for me thro that Croud, and tell 
 those chattering Ghosts who I am. 
 
 Porter. Who You were, Friend, but who you are no Ghost 
 alive will mind. Your stern look, and your vultus regibus usg 
 
 262
 
 CROMWELL AND HIS PORTER 
 
 truces will fright no body here. In short, Sir, that Levelling 
 Ait which your Friends above could never obtain, has been 
 long since made a Fundamental Law here. In these Kingdoms 
 we are all Equal. 
 
 Oliver. Show me at least some respedt for what I have 
 been. 
 
 Porter. I will as far as you may merit that respe£t, and you 
 in your turn shal render me the same justice : The condition 
 of this Obligation being such, I do not doubt but that I shal 
 have the preference at least by all impartial Judges. 
 
 Oliver. To begin then, I raised my self from a Private 
 Person to the dignity of a Prince. 
 
 Porter. And from being your Porter I made my self a 
 Prophet. 
 
 Oliver. I was General of the Army, head of the Parliament, 
 and Supreme Master of the Three Kingdoms. 
 
 Porter. I was Senior Inhabitant of old Bethlem, Prince of 
 the Planets, and absolute Disposer of every thing I saw or 
 thought of. 
 
 Oliver. Tis true thou wert for many Years, locked up in a 
 little Cell, separated from the World by Iron-barrs, and no 
 other Furniture about thee but the torn leaves of three or 
 four Bibles, and had not I all this while Splendor and Magnifi- 
 cence, Gardens, Parks and Palaces ? 
 
 Porter. And is it not as true that I had every thing which 
 I desired or wanted ? My Potage well dressed, my Straw fresh, 
 and my Coverlet clean, whilst in the midst of the Plunder of 
 three Nations you were always in Necessity, and every week 
 laying new Taxes upon an Opprest People for the support 
 of an Awkward ill founded greatness ; & whilst you were 
 tearing & Confounding the best Libraries in England, did not 
 I pick up those Leaves you spoke of, which were both the 
 furniture of my room, and the Comfort of my Life. 
 
 Oliver. But before thou earnest to this happy station Friend 
 wert thou ever seen or heard of otherwise than as my Domestic 
 Servant, till thy brains run a Wool gathering, and then thou 
 gottest into these strange Whims of Preaching and Prophecying. 
 
 Porter. And did not I serve you faithfully till I saw you 
 cheated every Man you had to do with, till you turned those 
 Officers out of the Army who had prefered you, and made use 
 
 263
 
 MATTHEW PRIOR 
 
 of your Parliamentary Power against those very Persons who 
 intrusted you with it. I learned to Preach from you, and 
 indeed am obliged to You for the very Distemper that made 
 me turn Prophet. I imitated you. I looked upon you as my 
 Idol till running from your Door with my Staff in my hand 
 one Thirtieth of January, I shal never forget the day, I saw 
 you Order Your Master to be brought out of the Window, 
 and Murdered at his own Palace gate. I confess when you 
 cutt of[f] the Kings head you turned mine into the bargain. 
 
 Oliver. Uncommon circumstances must attend great Aclions. 
 Pax quaritur hello was my Motto, yet sure I made a glorious 
 figure. The Commons of England prostrate before my Throne, 
 the Peers mingled in the Croud with them, or submissively 
 retired to Plant Cabbages at their own Country Seats, Citizens 
 and Courtiers Conducting me with Acclamations thro Cheap- 
 side, Ambassadors sent from the greatest Princes in Europe to 
 beg my friendship, or soften my Resentments, and the Pope 
 himself trembling for fear that having nothing else to do I 
 might send my Fleets to Plunder Loretto, or Destroy Civita 
 Vechia. 
 
 Porter. And while you made all this Bustle you were a 
 Slave to your own Apprehensions, suspicious of every body 
 that came near You. You durst not stir out without a Coat 
 of Mail under your Cloaths, nor sleep a nights without a Pair 
 of Pistols loaded by your Bed side. When you shot the Captain 
 to appease the Mutiny in the Army your hand trembled more 
 than a Highway mans while his tongue has the insolence to 
 demand a Purse, and when you were just going to kill More- 
 land, who slept Dogs-sleep, while you told your Mid-night 
 Secrets to Thurlo, You were more afraid of a young Clark 
 than he could possibly be of an inraged Tyrant. In short you 
 doubted of your Title of Protector, and I rested assured in 
 mine of Prophet. My Mind was divested of all those doubts 
 and fears, which continually disturbed yours. I cursed my 
 Enemies but never feared or indeed knew them. I excom- 
 municated or blest as I thought proper, and when the Palace of 
 Bethlem, from whence I sent out my Soveraign Edidts, was on 
 fire, I forbid the People under Pain of my Displeasure to 
 quench the flames ; told them the day of Judgment was come, 
 and this was the time when the World must be Purged by fire, 
 264
 
 CROMWELL AND HIS PORTER 
 
 and so unconcerned I read on. The Pope dreaded your Fleets 
 at Loretto and Civita Vechia did you say? No, no, it was I 
 that humbled that high Priest of Baal. I bombarded his Spiritual 
 strongholds with my Anathamas, I confounded the whore of 
 Babylon, the Scarlet Tyrant, Seven heads, ten horns, Gog and 
 Magog. 
 
 Oliver. Grant me Patience and I will yet argue meekly 
 with thy whimsical Person, Observe me friend, my Power 
 was real, your Authority was only imaginary, I did actually 
 fight in the field, Preached loudly in the Church, and talked 
 vehemently in the Parliament. Thousands of People can 
 witness that they submitted to me at Dundalk, were Edified 
 by me at Oxford, and frighted out of their wits at S 1 . Stephens 
 Chappel, whilst you only fancyed — 
 
 Porter. Look You Noll, Witnesses may help a Man to 
 recover his Estate in Westminster-Hall, but can do nothing 
 towards making him happy in the enjoyment of it. That sort 
 of Testimony must come from within. You fought you say, 
 and were really victorious, it may be so ; I prophecied and 
 fancyed my self inspired. But as to the Satisfaction that arose 
 to either of us from our different ways of Acting or thinking 
 we Our Selves are the only Judges. 
 
 Oliver. Pough prythee this is frantic stuff, I appeal to the 
 whole World. 
 
 Porter. It is right Philosophy, Master, what signifies 
 appealing to the World, the Appeal would come too late now, 
 while we were yet alive You suffered a thousand troubles and 
 Vexations which you hid from the World, to which you are 
 now so fond of Appealing, and I proclaimed to that World the 
 raptures and Pleasures I enjoyed in endeavoring to convert it. 
 
 Oliver. But again those who disobeyed me felt the Effecls 
 of my Anger in the loss of their Fortunes and Estates. 
 
 Porter. And those who contradicted me fell under the 
 weight of my Curses. Now while I thought my Censurers 
 had as terrible an Effecl as you knew your Arms had, I enjoyed 
 as ample Vengeance as ever you did. 
 
 Oliver. A pleasant Droll this, so that to Acl or not to Acl 
 is just the same thing. 
 
 Porter. To Acl, or think one Acls, is just the same, Now 
 how often do we think we Acl, when we have lain stil, and 
 
 265
 
 MATTHEW PRIOR 
 
 how often in our thought do we jumble things together that 
 never Existed in the same time and Place, and consequently 
 were not, at least were not as we imagined them. In a Dream 
 and without as much as once turning your Self in your bed 
 have not you as really, that is as apparently fought the Battle 
 at Marston Moor, heclored your Crop-ear' d Brethren at 
 Westminster, or thrown Cusheons at your favorites heads in 
 Spring Garden, as if you had been in these Places ? The next 
 Morning waking you have thought your self deceived, and so 
 neglected and forgot those Ideas. But if you will imagine your 
 life to have been that Dream — 
 
 Oliver. Oh very well then I never did possess any thing 
 but only thought that I possessed (this Fellow is extremely 
 whimsical). 
 
 Porter. Aye, most certainly my quondam Lord Protestor, 
 what we do in life is but to think we possess, and the strength 
 and impulse of that thought does the rest ; As the livelyness 
 of that Idea decays or changes, the thing it self is not worth a 
 Straw, hence it happens that the same objecls that attract now, 
 to morrow become indifferent, and the next day [grow] odious. 
 A greater Philosopher Noll than either You or I, states the 
 matter thus ; It is not the thing it self, says he, that Pleases or 
 Disquiets a Man, but the Opinion he conceives of the thing ; 
 Now I will go a little further with You, and convince you that 
 Pleasure or trouble being only the different Effects of your own 
 thought, it does not signify three Pence if what you have a 
 fancy for, or dislike, has its intrinsic Value or not. Nay if it 
 be in the World or no: What you see in a glass is only the 
 EffecT: of an impression formed in your own Brain, yet it may 
 either Please or put you out of Humour ; the sound that you 
 hear is nothing else, but a determined motion of common Air ; 
 Yet a Flute delights, a Trumpet startles and a Bell stuns You. 
 Does not the Lover imagine charms in his Mistresses face, 
 which no body else ever found, and which indeed She never 
 Possessed. Did not Don Qviixot (one of Our Predecessors) 
 sigh many years for Dulcinia, whom he never saw : What 
 think You of the Poets, who hold long Discourses with the 
 Muses and Goddesses, while they believe in their Conscience 
 there never were such People upon Earth. Your Mathema- 
 ticians, who Plague themselves first, and their Correspondents 
 
 266
 
 CROMWELL AND HIS PORTER 
 
 afterwards with the Produce only of lines and Angles which 
 never did or will Exist. And your System-Makers and World- 
 wri«;hts that as any idle Evening lies upon their hands stamp 
 an infinite number of New Stars or People a Million or two 
 of Earths. 
 
 Oliver. Why I think these People as mad as ever you were, 
 and that they deserve as much to be locked up. But you dont 
 compare these notional Gentlemen with Heroes and Conquerors, 
 who by superior sense diredt, or by Victorious Arms subdue 
 the rest of Mankind. We seek for things Solid and Visible, 
 and what you desire by your own Confession exists only in 
 meer Speculation. 
 
 Porter. Master, take my word for it my Speculations are 
 real, and your Desires but Chimerical. You would have what 
 never happened to any even from the result of his own thought, 
 Peace with Ambition, and tranquillity founded upon injustice. 
 I was pleased with Hope in Prophecy and happyness in ex- 
 pectation. You were never satisfyed with the Present. 
 I always anticipated and even enjoyed the future. To amuse 
 you no longer, Master, every Mortal Man is mad more or less. 
 The Lover quo ad banc> the Miser quo ad hoc, but the Ambitious 
 Man quo ad Omnia. Pray observe those miserable People 
 whom you call Heroes, how they go about roaring and crying 
 like spoiled Children for every thing they see, throwing away 
 their own, and desiring other Peoples goods, never contented 
 with the Common and easy use of things, and stil drawing new 
 troubles upon themselves from the inconsistency and perverse- 
 ness of their own Projects. What think you of Pompey and 
 Caesar, one could bear no Superior, the t'other no Equal, 
 pretty Fellows ! and upon this each plagued that part of the 
 World where he was. Both by turns ruined their own 
 Country, and got themselves Murdered. What do You talk 
 of being locked up ? that same Caesar was more confined in 
 Gallia, Alexander in Asia and you in the three Kingdoms 
 You Usurped, than ever I was in Bethlem ; For it is not the 
 situation of the body but the mind, my most worthy friend, 
 that either restrains a Man, or gives him liberty. 
 
 Oliver. Ha ! there is some sort of Sense in what this Fellow 
 said last, I find he has his lucid intervalls. I'l humor him a 
 little in his own way : And so friend as you were saying every 
 
 267
 
 MATTHEW PRIOR 
 
 Man is Mad, but in a different manner, and upon some 
 Particular objects. 
 
 Porter. Most certainly, and all we great Men are more 
 emphatically mad than other People. When you Preached 
 your head was as hott as an Oven, Mahomed, in his Extacys 
 had the falling Sickness, and to tell you truth in the middle 
 of my Prophecys, I was now and then tyed down to my good 
 behavior. 
 
 Oliver. I was therefore Mad, but not so mad as you. 
 
 Porter. Excuse me, Sir, I never said or thought any thing 
 like that. You were ten times madder, so mad that no Man 
 durst either Advise or tye you. You had brought things to 
 that miserable pass that your Counsellors all dreaded and your 
 Divines all nattered You, so you run wild about the Streets 
 threatning yet terrified, Vexing and vexed. A little bit of 
 Gravel stopt in your Kidneys took away the Relish you had 
 for all the Earth, which you possessed from Dover-Cliff to the 
 Isles of Orkney, and a kind Feaver gave you some relief by 
 taking You out of the World, to which you were a Burthen. 
 There is indeed one difference [between] You Public Mad- 
 men, and we sedentary Gentlemen if we happen to be a little 
 erased about Love, Learning or Religion while you are ravaging 
 Nations, and setting the World on fire. You find others bit 
 with the same Tarantula, who second your fury, partake of the 
 Plunder and justify your Error. Yee all Herd together, and 
 it is a very hard thing to catch one of You, but we are fewer 
 in number, divided, unarmed, and different in our Principles. 
 If the least disturbance happens from any impetuosity of our 
 temper the Neighborhood has an Eye upon Us, and away we 
 are hurried the next dark Night to Morefields or Hodgdon. 
 In truth whether from the fear or weakness of Mankind, I 
 shal not argue, but you have commonly the Majority on your 
 Side, which as your Excellency very well knows, is no smal 
 advantage in England. 
 
 Oliver. Hark you friend, dont talk so loud, yonder stand 
 a Knot of Shabby Fellows, whom I dont like, they seem to 
 Eves-drop. 
 
 Porter. O They are very honest Gentlemen take my word 
 for it. There is Diogenes, Epicletus, Peter Aretine, and Guy 
 Patin. Every Man you must know brings a Piece of his former 
 
 268
 
 CROMWELL AND HIS PORTER 
 
 Madness down hither with him. These Philosophers are all 
 reasoning. I'll bring you acquainted with them, their Dis- 
 courses may be very Edifying to You. 
 
 Oliver. No prythee show me where are the Conquerors 
 and Heroes you named just now, I had rather go to them. 
 
 Porter. O they are very far from this quiet part of the 
 Grove, quite a t'other side the River. You may find them 
 there with Spartacus, Massenellio, and Jack-Cade, making 
 of Dirt-Pyes, or playing at Cudgells, for it is not absolutely 
 true what the Poets say of Lethe waters that they make us 
 forget all we have done, they only cool our Passions and calm 
 the heat of our Mondane distempers. Every [one] Acls in jest 
 here, what he did in the t'other World in earnest. You may 
 exercise among the Heroes without blowing up Citadells and 
 destroying whole Countries, You may study among the Law 
 givers without being stark wild about Ordonances and Pro- 
 clamations, As I can talk upon Calvins Predestination, the 
 Popes Constitution, or any other Theological point without 
 fishing for Leviathans or slaying Behemoths. But you must 
 previously I tell You take a Course of these Lethe waters for 
 Six Months at least, for, amongst Friends you are very far 
 gone. 
 
 Oliver. To make me forget any thing of my greatness, 
 I tell Thee I wont gargle my mouth with a drop of it, Mercy 
 on me, how extremely Mad is this Fellow. 
 
 Porter. Glory, glory ! how far beyond all Cure is my 
 quondam Master. 
 
 269
 
 POEMS FROM THE 
 LONGLEAT MSS.
 
 
 To Madam K. P. 
 
 A Pastoral Dialogue. 
 
 DAMON. 
 
 SEE Strephon see what a refulgent ray 
 Dispells yon Clouds, and gilds the rising day 
 The smiling Feilds their early Treasures bring 
 And warbling Birds proclaim the coming spring 
 Young tender Plants and swelling buds appear 
 Whilst Nature smiling seems to bless the Year 
 Lively the Nymphs and sportive are their Swains 
 All Sorrows Banish'd from the cheerful Plains 
 Save only what Thy troubl'd Soul contains 
 Then tell me Strephon, prythee tell me why 
 Dost Thou in mournful shades obscurely lye? 
 Why dost Thou sigh, why strike Thy panting breast 
 And steal from life the needful hours of rest? 
 Are thy Kids starv'd by rig'rous Winter's frost? 
 Are any of thy bleating straglers lost ? 
 Have Strangers Cattle trod thy new Plow'd ground 
 Or (what is worst) has great Joanna frown'd. 
 
 STREPHON. 
 
 On yonder Hills my bleating straglers play 
 (Ah ! were their Master unconcern'd as they) 
 No beasts (at Noon I look'd) had trod my ground 
 Nor have I lost my Kids, nor has Joanna frown'd. 
 
 DAMON. 
 
 Then stop the lavish fountains of your Eyes 
 Nor let those Sighs from your swoln bosom rise, 
 Send all these melancholy thoughts away 
 And once again rejoice, and once again look gay. 
 
 STREPHON. 
 
 Ah Damon what can add to Sorrows more 
 Then thoughts of happyness enjoy'd before? 
 What more disturbs the slighted Lovers breast 
 Then sad remembrance how he has been bless'd 
 What kind reception once his Passion found 
 And how he flourish'd e'er his fair one frown'd 
 
 272
 
 POEMS FROM LONGLEAT MSS. 
 
 What more the wretched Exil's soul annoys 
 Then recollection of his former Joys? 
 Or what severer Sentence can be giv'n 
 Then having seen to be excluded Heav'n. 
 
 DAMON. 
 
 None Shephard none 
 
 STREPHON. 
 
 then cease to chide my Cares 
 
 And rather pitty then restrain my Tears, 
 Those tears, my Damon, which I justly shed 
 To think how great my Joys, how soon they fled ; 
 I told the[e], Friend (when I forsook those Sheep 
 Which Thou the while with equal care didst keep) 
 That I wou'd visit fair Celinda's Shrine 
 And pay those Vows which gratitude enjeyn 
 Since then how happy did thy Strephon live 
 
 Happy 
 
 In all kind Heav'n or kinder She cou'd give 
 
 Happy as new form'd Man in Paradice 
 
 E'er Sin debauch'd his inoffensive bliss 
 
 Happy as Heroes after Battles won 
 
 Prophets entrane'd or Monarchs on their Throne. 
 
 Then chide not if I sometimes drop a Tear ] 
 
 When I remember how I triumph'd there V 
 
 And with past pleasures present woes compare. 
 
 DAMON. 
 
 But were those pleasures so extremely vast? 
 Wonder not then that they so quickly past. 
 Too happy shou'd we be wou'd smiling Fate 
 Render one blessing durable and great 
 But (Ah ! the sad Vicisitude) how soon 
 Unwelcome Night succeeds the chearful Noon 
 And rigid Winter nips the flow'ry pomp of June. 
 Then grieve not Friend, like The[e] since all Mankind 
 A certain change of Joy and sorrows find 
 Come give thy anxious Soul its wonted peace 
 And from this Hour let all sad troubles cease 
 Suppress thy Sighs, those down cast Eyelids raise 
 Tune thy neglected Harp, and sing the Goddess' praise. 
 
 p. ii. s 273
 
 MATTHEW PRIOR 
 
 To a Lady Sleeping. 
 
 STILL Sleep stil fold those lovely Arms 
 Stil be free from noise and harms 
 Whilst all the Gods of Love defend Thee 
 (The Gods of Love which stil attend thee) 
 Whilst around in humble state 
 A Thousand wanton Angels wait 
 Whilst Gods officiously find 
 Pleasing Dreams to charm thy mind, 
 Dreams of things (if such there are) 
 Like yourself Serene and fair, 
 And when You open those bright Eyes 
 When Morpheus with the wel-cloath'd Vision flyes 
 May You that happyness renew 
 And all the pleasures of your Dream prove true. 
 
 Charity never faileth. 
 
 S 
 
 i Cor: xiii. 8, 
 
 I. 
 
 AY would'st Thou gain eternal Praise, 
 
 Go foolish Man thy great designs pursue, 
 
 Go, try ten thousand ways 
 Thy Toil like Sisyphus each hour renew 
 
 Yet know that after all Thy Pain 
 Like him thou dost but roll a heavy Stone in vain. 
 
 II. 
 
 Rush, if thou wilt into the Camp, and try 
 To purchace Fame by Viclory, 
 
 Let Fortune stil against thy foes conspire 
 Still on Thee, her Darling wait 
 And kindly seem to make her great, 
 
 Great as thy soaring wishes can require 
 
 274
 
 POEMS FROM LONGLEAT MSS. 
 
 Yet when thy Troops return with Conquest crown'd 
 
 Thy recompence is only shouts and noise 
 
 (The Rabbles unintelligible voice) 
 
 And scarce a Lawrel-leaf for every wound. 
 
 III. 
 
 But say the Senate should thy Service own 
 And to thy Memory with comely Pride 
 
 Ere£t a shining Pyramide 
 By this Thou canst not be for ever known, 
 The Marble will decay, the Polish'd Iron rust, 
 And both will be as soon as Thou art, Dust. 
 
 IV. 
 
 Then throw your Sword and Gauntlet by 
 Change your Armour for a Gown 
 Read all the Secrets of Philosophy 
 And thus endeavor to obtain renown, 
 
 Yet here thy Study will prove vain 
 
 No glory can'st Thou hence obtain 
 Since Men the mighty Stagyrite disdain. 
 
 V. 
 
 Should'st Thou invoke the Muses then, and try 
 If honor can be gain'd by Poetry, 
 Alas ! no glory will from hence arise 
 Tho (which is much improbable) thy Rhimes 
 Affect the Squeamish Criticks of these times 
 What they Admire their Children may dispise 
 Homer is Censur'd, Ennius quite thrown by, 
 Then how short-liv'd will be thy Praise 
 Like what thou labour'est for, a sprig of Bayes 
 'Twill with its Transitory Master Dye. 
 
 VI. 
 
 Hard fate! can nothing then secure our Name 
 
 From Envys cruel rage 
 
 And the devouring Teeth of Age 
 Can nothing Purchace everlasting Fame ? 
 
 S2 275
 
 MATTHEW PRIOR 
 
 Yes, Charity will do't, 'tis This alone 
 
 Will make its Author always known 
 The Charitable Man shal live 
 Without what needless Art can give 
 And every Tongue his Acls rehearse 
 
 Tho no Man built his Tomb, or sung his Praise in Verse. 
 
 VII. 
 
 Old Time and Envy shal his glory view 
 
 Each vainly striving to pursue 
 Whilst looking back he sees them fly behind 
 And scapes the fatal Gulph which swallows all Mankind 
 
 Nay even in that dreadful Day 
 When all Men else to Rocks and Caverns run 
 And desperately strive an angry God to shun 
 
 When time it self shal be no more 
 Who fed the Orphan, and reliev'd the Poor 
 
 Shal with undaunted Courage stay 
 And Ten times more receive, then e'er he gave away. 
 
 There be Those that leave 
 Their Names behind them. 
 
 Ecc: 44. 8. 
 
 In Praise of the Lady Margaret Foundress of 
 St John's. 
 
 I 
 
 I. 
 
 F gilded flaggs and heaps of polish'd Stone 
 Can make the Deads memorial known 
 If from the well-cutt brass will long appear 
 
 The Just the Gener'ous the Good lies here 
 How long will Margaretta's Name be prais'd, 
 Who spent her Wealth another way 
 Who built what never will Decay 
 Who Living Pillars of Her Glory rais'd ? 
 
 276
 
 POEMS FROM LONGLEAT MSS. 
 
 CHORUS. 
 
 Margaretta's Name shal live 
 And lasting Tribute of just Fame receive 
 Long as the Sacred Walls she founded stand, 
 The Pride, the light, the glory of our Land. 
 Long as the learned Youth shal flourish there 
 Inspir'd with Thoughts of Heav'n and Her. 
 Shal press with pleasing force the grateful String 
 And thanks and Praises to their Godess sing. 
 
 II. 
 
 If charitable Acls alone 
 
 Best make their Pious Authors known 
 If to the chearful Giver Men shal raise 
 
 Lasting Monuments of praise 
 
 How long shal Margaretta's Name 
 Grace the bright Rolls of Piety and Fame? 
 
 CHORUS. 
 
 Long as Three Nations gratefully shal show 
 The mighty Thanks they to her goodness owe 
 Long as the sacred Page shal be Carress'd 
 Which tells Us Charity and She are bless'd. 
 
 III. 
 
 If Charitable Acls alone 
 Can for a Multitude of Sins attone 
 
 If at that great that dreadful day 
 
 Beyond which Time shal be no more 
 Who cherish'd Orphans and reliev'd the Poor 
 
 With holy Confidence shal stay 
 And see his Sins and Sorrows wash'd away 
 
 What then shal be to Margaretta giv'n ? 
 
 CHORUS. 
 
 One of the best the brightest Seats in Heav'n 
 With Saints and Marty'rs she shal live 
 Encircl'd round with lasting Joy 
 Which no mischance, no Sorrow can destroy 
 Which Man desires, and God alone can give. 
 
 277
 
 MATTHEW PRIOR 
 
 Many Daughters have done well, 
 but Thou Excellest them all. 
 
 Prov: 31. 29. 
 
 As spoken in a Vision to the Lady Margaret 
 Foundress of St John's. 
 
 T'WAS night, the Drousy Diety began 
 To chain with sleep the buisy thoughts of Man, 
 When free from Noise and troubles of the Day 1 
 
 Our ... Poet in those flow'ry Meadows lay 1- 
 
 Where reverent Cham cuts out its famous way J 
 
 When loe ! O strange, an unexpected light "j 
 
 Dispers'd the Native darkness of the Night f 
 
 And rais'd at once his wonder and delight 
 But how, how welcome did that light appear ^ 
 
 Which usher'd in a form all Heav'nly fair !- 
 
 A Form which lately left its Mansh'on there. 
 A Woman proper, beautiful and fine 
 Her garb was Noble and her Mein divine 
 Majestick greatness Triumph'd in her face 
 And every Limb had its peculiar grace 
 With sober Pace the lovely Ghost drew near 
 Her smiling seem'd to Chide his useless fear 
 At length he knows the venerable Shade 
 Runs to meet that of which he was afraid 
 And thus with reverence Thrice bowing said 
 Hail mighty Patroness ! Hail great and Good ! 
 Hail doubly fam'd for Virtue and for blood ! 
 Hail Thou, whose Afts shou'd I presume to show 
 I shou'd blasphem by Epithets too low. 
 Hail St or Princess royal or Divine 
 Hail wonder of our Sex and Fame of Thine 
 Be Thou my Muse vouchsafe to look on me 
 The meanest of thy learned Progeny 
 Inspire my Soul that I may sing Thy fame 
 And raise a work eternal as my Theam 
 
 278
 
 POEMS FROM LONGLEAT MSS. 
 
 Inspire my Soul that I may loudly tell 
 How far Thou dost all Woman kind Excell 
 
 How Thou bless'd Shade 
 
 When York had Lancaster so long withstood 
 
 And Englands face was stain'd with English blood 
 
 Did'st bless the Nation with a Godlike Son 
 
 Who recompenc'd the Ills their Arms had done 
 
 Who made all Faction all Rebellion cease 
 
 And gave Us Plenty, Liberty, and Peace. 
 
 You heard each Tongue with joy your glory sing ~1 
 
 Each bless the Parents of so good a King l- 
 
 With all the Praises Gratitude cou'd bring. 
 
 But thought the Gift not worthy yet of You \ 
 
 Unless with Peace You gave Us Learning too V 
 
 Then, then indulgently both paps you drew 
 
 And rais'd Two fabricks which shal ever be 
 
 Great Monuments of Piety and Thee 
 
 Fain wou'd the cheerful Poet have gon on 
 To Sing the Works her Charity had done 
 But She who did like Heav'n her Gifts dispence 
 Without the Hopes of any recompence 
 Seem'd by a frown to chide his saucy Eloquence 
 And moving from him with a graceful Pace ~\ 
 
 Ascended to that bright that happy Place > 
 
 Where Saints like Her enjoy an everlasting Peace. 
 
 On the Coronation. 
 
 i. 
 
 NO 'tis in vain ; what limits shal controll 
 The rovings of my adtive Soul ? 
 That Soul which Scorns to be to place confin'd, 
 And leaves its dull Companion earth behind. 
 
 Whilst fancy with unbounded flight 
 
 Enjoys that objeel of delight 
 Which Envious distance wou'd conceal from sight. 
 
 Giving Poets to partake 
 
 (Like those Deities they make) 
 
 Of infinite Ubiquity. 
 
 279
 
 MATTHEW PRIOR 
 II. 
 
 Thus methinks I see the barge 
 Pleas'd with the sacred weight of its Majestic charge 
 Old Argo with a weight less glorious fraught 
 The treasure from impov'rish'd Colchos brought 
 And Hellespont now vanquish'd must confess 
 His burthen meaner and his triumph less 
 Since richer Thames does James and Mary bear 
 He great as Jove She as Europa fair. 
 They come ! Joy doubles strength to every Oar 
 Resounding Ecchoes fill the crowded Shoar 
 The waves with an unusual pride 
 Pay homage to the Lord 
 Of our Asserted Main 
 And calmly as they glide 
 Auspitiously afford 
 An Omen of his Reign. 
 
 III. 
 
 See glorious as the Eastern Sun 
 Our Monarch from the Waters rise 
 Whilst Crowds like Zealous Persians run 
 To own the blessing of their Sacrifice 
 He comes, religious Shouts proclaim him near 
 
 James and Hosannah bless each ear, 
 Delighted Heav'n confirms the mighty Joys 
 And in glad sounds reflects the Image of the Voice. 
 
 IV. 
 
 Triumphant Caesar in less glory rode 
 When heighten'd from a Viftor to a God 
 When captiv'd Monarchs trembl'd by his side 
 
 And by their Shame encreas'd his Pride 
 
 No private Sorrows here allay 
 The common transports of the happy Day 
 
 But in each exalted breast 
 
 Of happyness and James possess'd 
 
 Is evidently shown 
 His Peoples blessings greater then his own 
 And he that gives the Triumph triumphs least. 
 280
 
 POEMS FROM LONGLEAT MSS. 
 
 v. 
 
 Now fancy to the Altar bring 
 Second to what we there adore, the King. 
 
 By the anointing Prelate mett 
 And rising where the mighty Brother sett, 
 
 But Oh ! forbid the Omen heavn, 
 
 Protect the blessing You have giv'n, 
 Late he ascends, long may he fill the Throne 
 And for the Nations bliss defer his own 
 
 Whilst Marys charms unbend the care 
 Of that rich load his sacred temples wear 
 
 (Herself the brightest Jewel there). 
 
 Not Writing to K. P. 
 
 SO from Divinity and things above 
 The Zealots thoughts have sometimes chanc'd to rove 
 Till on his life he does with grief reflecl: 
 Compares heav'ns goodness with his own negledt. 
 Abhors his crime and vows he'l now begin 
 With double Penitence to clear his Sin 
 Then sighing trembling doubting he draws near 
 His Piety stil vanquish'd by his fear. 
 Till heav'n beholds and Pittys what he feels 
 And with glad Omens his wish'd Pardon Seals 
 Pleas'd with the truth of his repent[a]nce more 
 Then with his constant Pray'rs and drudging Zeal before. 
 
 2«I
 
 MATTHEW PRIOR 
 
 Arria and Petus 
 
 out of Martial. 
 Paraphrase. 
 
 WITH Roman constancy and decent pride 
 The dying Matron from her wounded side 
 
 Drawing forth the guilty blade 
 To her lov'd Lord the fatal gift convey 'd 
 But then in streams of blood and sorrow drown'd 
 Pardon she crys an unbecoming Tear 
 
 (The Womans weakness will appear) 
 Yet think not tis that I repent the Deed 
 
 Or that my firm resolves give ground 
 Witness just Heav'n 'tis nothing that I bleed 
 But that You must, there Petus, there's the Wound. 
 
 To the Countess of Dorset 
 walking in a Garden. 
 
 YES I did stubernly believe 
 The place no added Beauty cou'd receive 
 'Till bright Dorinda's passing by 
 Convinc'd my Infidelity. 
 
 Where e'er She came new Glories fell 
 The dullest Plant grew Sensible 
 
 Its willing branches every Tree 
 
 By grateful instinct spread 
 
 And round the fair Divinity 
 Cast the glad shade of its protecting head. 
 
 282
 
 POEMS FROM LONGLEAT MSS. 
 
 The opening Flowers where e'er She went 
 Diffus'd their tributary scent 
 Crowding beneath her beauteous feet 
 
 Officiously they bow'd 
 With pleas'd Humility to meet 
 The fresher beauties of their sacred Load. 
 
 Nature seem'd to serve and woo 
 As she wou'd make her Queen of Seasons too 
 
 The Sun for her prolongu'd the Day 
 
 Kindly stop'd his setting light 
 She went, that only cou'd engage his stay 
 
 And all was gloomy, all was Night. 
 
 Ah shou'd the God returning show 
 The wonders he has seen below 
 The amazing Truth his am'rous Sire wou'd move 
 Make him confess 
 His Thunder less 
 
 Then are the Shafts of Love 
 Descending his transform'd Divinity 
 
 He'd to your bosom pour 
 
 And Poets once might hope to see 
 
 An other Golden Shower. 
 
 To the E. of D. 
 
 upon 
 
 His Marriage. 
 
 THE scorching Dogstar and the Suns fierce ray 
 Conspir'd with mingl'd flames to vex the day 
 When by young Damon Lycidas was laid 
 Beneath a spacious Oaks obliging shade 
 And thus with harmless strife the emulous Shepherds plaid. 
 
 283
 
 MATTHEW PRIOR 
 
 DAMON. 
 
 Let this bless'd day our fruitless Quarrels end 
 
 Soften the Rival to the friend 
 And make our kindness not our skil contend. 
 
 LYCIDAS. 
 
 Begin, raise Thou thy tuneful Voice 
 So may my Muse approve thy happy choice. 
 
 DAMON. 
 
 May Venus so my choice approve 
 As I begin with mighty things and Love. 
 
 When first Heav'ns Eldest offspring Light, 
 Sprang from the fertile Womb of solid night; 
 What made the melancholy discord cease 
 And charm'd the warring Elements to peace? 
 From what great cause what brooding influence came 
 
 This well proportion'd frame? 
 From Thee, blest Queen of Harmony and Love ; 
 Thou greatest pow'r on Earth, thou brightest star above. 
 
 LYCIDAS. 
 
 When Loves great Didtates were obey'd, 
 And Heav'ns last noblest Master Piece was made 
 To make the new form'd Monarch truly blest 
 And in one richer Gift compleat the rest 
 What secret pow'r unlock'd his pregnant side, 
 To the soft Yoak bow'd his delighted mind 
 Taught the unpradlic'd Lover to be kind 
 And bless the wound whilst he embrac'd the Bride 
 'Twas Thou Almighty King of Heav'n and Love 
 That Govern'st all below, and blesse'st all above. 
 
 DAMON. 
 
 'Twas Love subdu'd the noble Daphnis heart 
 
 Love gave the welcome happy wound, 
 And with this triumph all his Conquest crown'd 
 Whilst Daphnis blest the wound and met the Dart 
 Pleas'd with the grateful bondage more 
 Then with his early spoyls, and boasted Liberty before. 
 
 284
 
 POEMS FROM LONGLEAT MSS. 
 
 LVCIDAS. 
 
 'Twas Love subdu'd the fair Dorinda's breast 
 Love to her heart a secret warmth convey'd 
 With pleasing Pain surpris'd the wond'ring Maid 
 And kindly for her Joys disturb'd her rest. 
 Whilst Daphnis stronger charms with Love's conspire 
 To make her own the Diety and fan the growing fire. 
 
 DAMON. 
 
 But thy rude Music Swain, my ruder Tongue 
 The glories they shou'd reach wou'd wrong, 
 For Daphnis Love 
 Shou'd only prove 
 The Theam of Daphnis' Song. 
 
 LYCIDAS. 
 
 Nor can the Joys of Angells be exprest 
 Nor know we ought of Heav'n above yon Skies 
 Which yet we bless with Pray'rs and please with Sacrifice. 
 
 DAMON. 
 
 Lett's then the hasty Sun arrest 
 Time will stay till they are blest; 
 
 LYCIDAS. 
 
 Nay rather blame the Suns too hasty flight 
 Bid him withdraw his tedious light 
 And kindly send the wish for night. 
 
 DAMON. 
 
 May Daphnis wound her with a lure, 
 
 LYCIDAS. 
 
 And may Dorinda's flames endure 
 Like Vesta's fires 
 
 DAMON. 
 
 for these like them are pure. 
 
 LYCIDAS. 
 
 Let Heaven its utmost Care employ 
 
 To make Their life but one continu'd Joy. 
 
 285
 
 MATTHEW PRIOR 
 
 DAMON. 
 
 Let Nature all her Tribute bring 
 To make their Year but one continu'd Spring. 
 
 LYCIDAS. 
 
 With softest Violetts strow her bed, 
 
 DAMON. 
 
 With freshest Myrtill crown his head. 
 
 LYCIDAS. 
 
 With Hymens Tree Apollo's joyn, 
 And round his brow their mingl'd honors twine 
 Their mingl'd honors sure to him are due 
 Who with the Nymph has gain'd the Lawrel too. 
 
 DAMON. 
 
 The Joys of Harvest crown their Cares, 
 And stil encrease their Plenty with their Years. 
 
 LYCIDAS. 
 
 The Joys of Vintage swell their Bowers, 
 And if they overflow, o'erflow on Ours : 
 
 DAMON. 
 
 Fly swift the smiling Hours, let each glad Morn 
 The fruitful pleasures of the last return. 
 
 LYCIDAS. 
 
 Fly smiling Hours, let each succeeding Night 
 Improve the transports of the first delight. 
 
 DAMON. 
 
 In glad Procession let each rolling Year 
 
 See the joyful Mother bear 
 A beauty Second only to her own. 
 
 LYCIDAS. 
 
 Or if the kinder Gods conspire to crown 
 
 Her stronger wishes with a Son 
 His Parents great Perfections let him share 
 And prove her Beauty's, and his Virtue's Heir. 
 
 286
 
 POEMS FROM LONGLEAT MSS. 
 
 Journey to Copt-Hall. 
 
 THIRTY Six Miles — too far to walk a foot 
 And Pegasus, God knows, will never do't: 
 Yet I will on — It is decree'd, 
 I'l hire a more substantial Steed. 
 Accoutrement of Sword and Coat 
 Useless Ornament I vote. 
 Thus borrowing Whip and Cordibeck, 
 Proceed we next to Tick for Hack. 
 
 With Faith VI pay, and six pence earnest 
 I got my Quondam Coach-horse harnest : 
 I mount, and great as Hudibrass, 
 With unarm'd kick urge on my horse; 
 Whilst he by instinct stil approaches 
 His old acquaintance of the Coaches: 
 
 With whipping constant as his trott, 
 My Beast and I to Eppin gott, 
 From whence, with loss of Whip and Leather, 
 I brought my sober Machin heither. 
 I came I say, — what once to see again 
 My Horse I'd pardon, and renew my Pain. 
 
 Here well-set Simile might shine 
 Of Pilgrimage to Power divine, 
 Of zealous Persian who wou'd run 
 To gaze on beams of distant Sun ; 
 But th'are abus'd by franclic Lee 
 And sung to Stuttring Durfeys Ge sol re. 
 
 Well then — to Supper admirable 
 I sit, near Mahon grave and head of Table 
 Methodically She carves Cunney 
 Whilst Frenchman talks of blood and mony 
 DifPrent Discourses crown the Meal 
 Much of Religion past and much of Veal 
 But one thing spoilt my appetite 
 Monsieur till ten from Candle-light 
 Extended Three Prodigious Lies — Good night. 
 
 287
 
 MATTHEW PRIOR 
 
 On M r Fleetwood Shephards 
 
 Killing the French K . . . 
 To the E. of D 
 
 My Lord 
 
 After ten thousand thanks for the kindest entertain- 
 ments I ever received, and as many Sighs for leaving C. and 
 Your Lordship, I presume to inform You that I have Obeyed 
 M r Shep.... commands, summond the Muses, told Them of his 
 killing the F. K. and upon that subjecl presented him with 
 such Poetry as Smal-beer and College Mutton cou'd Inspire. 
 
 To F. S. 
 
 THE joyful Slaves, whom your report set free 
 From Taxes, wooden Shoes, and Slavery; 
 Their Neighbours too, who by the Bully scar'd, 
 His Warlike Bombs and Politic Rats bane fear'd; 
 All that have treTnbling shook at his Alarms, 
 Dutch-Men and Protestants that felt his Arms, 
 And wisely hop'd, his less Religious Son 
 Wou'd tolerate the Mass or Alcoran : 
 Last, German Bishops, who began to think, 
 They now might see less Fighting, and more drink : 
 
 All these their humblest Thanks to S send, 
 
 France's Deliv'erer, and the Muses Friend. 
 
 S the glory of whose lasting Name 
 
 Shal crack Timers Iron Teeth and swel the cheeks of fame 
 
 S whose mighty Monarch-murthering word 
 
 Rivals the force of S l Raviliac's Sword 
 Say, {for Thou knowest,) thou hero-heart' ning Muse ! 
 What wou'd his presence, what his Arms produce ? 
 Whose bare Report has nobler Mischiefs done, 
 Then Oates's Mustard Balls, or Pickeries gun: 
 That at more distance kills, and Ecchoes louder, 
 Than Aurum fulminans or German Powder? 
 
 288 

 
 POEMS FROM LONGLEAT MSS. 
 
 Say, how at Paris, free from zealous fear, 
 
 S and Reformation shal appear: 
 
 Brutus at Rome less honor'd than he there ! 
 How the swift Bumpers shal with joy go round, 
 
 Whilst every Bowl with S 's Name is crown'd ; 
 
 And to his health the Mawdlin Protestants 
 
 Shal first drink Bourdcaux dry, then beggar Nantz. 
 
 Up 
 
 Advice to the Painter, 
 
 on the defeat of the Rebels in the 
 West) and the Execution of the late 
 D. of Monmouth. 
 
 Pittoribus atque Poetis 
 
 Ouidlibet 
 
 Since by just Flames the * guilty Piece is lost, 
 The noblest Work thy fruitless Art could boast; 
 Renew thy faithful Pains a second time, \ 
 
 From the Duke's Ashes raise the Prince of Lime, Y 
 
 And make thy Fame eternal as his Crime. ) 
 
 The fLand (if such it may be counted) draw, 
 Whose Interest is Religion, Treason Law; 
 Th' ingrateful Land, whose Treacherous Sons are Foes 
 To the kind Monarchy by which they rose, 
 And by instinctive Hatred dread that Pow'r, 
 Join'd in our King and in their Conqueror. 
 
 Amidst the Councils of this black Divan, "| 
 
 Draw the misled, aspiring, wretched Man, 1- 
 
 His Sword maintaining what his Fraud began. J 
 
 Draw Treason, Sacrilege, and Perfidy, 
 The curst AcbitopbeTs kind Legacy ; 
 Three direful Engins of a Rebel's hate, 
 Fit to perform the blackest work of Fate. 
 
 * The Duke's Pidure burnt at Cambridg. t Holland. 
 
 P. II. T 289
 
 MATTHEW PRIOR 
 
 But lest their horrid Force too weak shou'd prove, 
 Add * tempting Woman's more destructive Love: 
 
 Give the Ambitious Fair 
 
 All Nature's Gifts refin'd by subtlest Art, 
 Too able to betray that easy Heart, 
 And with more charms than Helens to destroy 
 That other Hope of our mistaken Troy. 
 
 The Scene from Dulness, and Dutch Plots bring o'er, 
 And set the hopeful Parracide ashore, 
 Fraught with the Blessings of each boorish Friend, 
 And the kind helps their Pray'rs and Brandy lend, 
 
 With those few Crowns 
 
 Some English Jews, and some French Christians send. 
 
 Next in thy darkest Colours paint the fTown, 
 For old Hereditary Treason known, 
 Whose Infant Sons in early mischiefs bred, 
 Swear to the Cov'nant they can hardly read; 
 Brought up with too much Charity to hate 
 Ought but their Bible, and their Magistrate. 
 
 Here let the gawdy Banner be display'd, 
 While the kind Fools invoke their Neighbours Aid 
 T' adore that Idol they themselves have made, 
 And Peasants from neglected Fields resort 
 To fill his Army, and adorn his Court. 
 
 Near this, erected on a Drum unbrac'd, 
 Let Heaven's and James's \ Enemy be plac'd, 
 The Wretch that hates, like false Argyle, the Crown, 
 The Wretch that, like vile Oates, defames the Gown, 
 And through the Speaking-Trumpet of his Nose 
 Heav'n's sacred Word profanely does expose, 
 Bidding the large-ear'd Rout with one accord 
 Stand up and fight the Battel of the Lord. 
 
 Then nigh the Pageant Prince (alas too nigh !) 
 Paint [Gray] with a Romantick Constancy, 
 Resolv'd to Conquer, or resolv'd to Fly ; 
 
 * Lady Harr. Wenhvorth. t Taunton. % Ferguson. 
 
 29O
 
 POEMS FROM LONGLEAT MSS. 
 
 And let there in his Guilty Face appear 
 
 The Rebel's Malice and the Coward's Fear, 
 
 That future Ages in thy Face may see 
 
 Not his Wife raiser to his Bed, than to all Parties he. 
 
 Now let the curst Triumvirate prepare 
 For all the baneful Ills of horrid War; 
 Let zealous Rage the dreadful Work begin, 
 Back'd with the sad variety of Sin ; 
 Let Vice in all its numerous shapes be shown, 
 Crimes which to milder Brennus were unknown, 
 And innocent Crotmvel wou'd have blush'd to own. 
 Their Arms from pillag'd [*] Temples let 'em bring, 
 And rob the Deity to wound the King. 
 
 Excited then by their Camp-Priest's long Pray'r 
 Their Country's Curses, and their own Despair, 
 While Hell combines with its vile Offspring Night, 
 To hide their Treachery, or secure their Flight, 
 The watchful Troops with cruel hast come on, 
 Then shout, look terrible, discharge, and run. 
 
 Fal'n from his short-liv'd Pow'r and flatter'd Hopes, 
 His Friends destroy 'd by Hunger, Swords, and Ropes; 
 To some near Grove the Western Monarch flies, 
 In vain the innocent Grove her Shade denies. 
 
 The Juster Trees 
 
 Who when for refuge Charles and Virtue fled, 
 
 By grateful Instinct their glad Branches spread, 
 
 And round the Sacred Charge cast their inlarged Head, 
 
 Straight when the outcast Absalom comes nigh, 
 
 Drop off their fading Leaves, and blasted dy. 
 
 Nor Earth her self will hide her Guilty Son, 
 
 Tho he for refuge to her -f- Bowels run. 
 
 Rebellious Corah to her Arms she took 
 
 When Heav'n, and Israel his old Cause forsook; 
 
 But now provok'd by a more just disdain, 
 
 She shrinks her frighted Head, and gives our Rebel back again. 
 
 [* The lead taken of the Cathedral of Wells to make Bullets.] 
 t Taken in a Ditch. 
 
 T2 291
 
 MATTHEW PRIOR 
 
 Now Artist, let thy juster Pencil draw 
 The sad effects of necessary Law. 
 In painted Words, and speaking Colours tell 
 The dismal Exit this sham Prince befel ; 
 On the sad Scene the glorious Rebel place, 
 With Pride, and Sorrow strugling in his Face ; 
 Describe the Pangs of his distracted Breast 
 (If by thy Labours Thought can be exprest) 
 Shew with what difference two vast Passions move, 
 And how the Hero with the Christian strove. 
 
 Then place the [*] Sacred Prelate by his side, 
 To raise his Sorrow, and confound his Pride 
 With the dear dreadful Thoughts of a God crucify'd. 
 Paint, if thou canst, the Heavenly Words that hung 
 Upon the Holy Mens perswasive Tongue, 
 Words sweet as Moses writ, or Asaph sung ; 
 Words whose prevailing Influence might have won 
 All but the haughty harden'd Absalon. 
 
 At distance round their weeping Mother, place 
 The too unmindful Fathers beauteous Race ; 
 But like the Grecian Artist, spread a Veil 
 O'er the sad Beauties of fair [f] Annabel. 
 
 No Art, no Muse those Sorrows can express, 
 Which would be render'd by Description less. 
 
 Here close the dismal Scene, conceal the rest 
 That the sad Orphans Eyes will teach us best; 
 Thy guilty Art might raise our ill-tim'd Grief too high, 
 And make us, while we pity him, forget our Loyalty. 
 
 [* Bishop of Ely.] [t Dutchess.] 
 
 
 292
 
 POEMS FROM LONGLEAT MSS. 
 
 To the Bishop of Rochester 
 
 Upon 
 
 His Account of the Whiggish 
 Conspir[a]cy by His late Majesty's order. 
 
 My Lord, 
 
 WITH humble hopes Your goodness will excuse 
 The hasty Zeal of an Aspiring Muse. 
 I with unequal steps Your pace persue 
 And thought I trod Securely following You 
 Repenting now like Phaeton too late j 
 
 I feebly sink beneath the glorious weight 
 And find the Work for all but You too great. J 
 
 The hand that rivall'd Heav'n took thence it's fire 
 E'er He the senseless Machine cou'd Inspire 
 And the rash Author wou'd Attempt in vain 
 (Unless he borrow'd Your Diviner Pen) 
 To imitate or Praise with equal flight 
 What only Charles cou'd Diclate only You cou'd write. 
 
 If Troubles past by repetition please 
 Tho meaner Tongues Your grateful Tale express 
 What Joys, what raptures, must those Ills create 
 Which bravely, as he conquer'd, You relate. 
 Our Joys, without our Sufferings, had been less 
 And for Your Remedy the wound we bless 
 So, did not Catilines defeated rage 
 Your much lov'd Tully's daring Pen engage 
 His Rome wou'd want one Glory of his tongue 
 The World a Masterpiece, and Fame a Song. 
 
 293
 
 MATTHEW PRIOR 
 
 God is Love. 
 
 i. 
 
 ALMIGHTY Power! 
 X~\, Whom Angells Hymns, men's Prayers adore. 
 For whom no Speech, no thought cou'd frame 
 
 A comprehensive Name ; 
 Till Thou from Heav'n vouchsafst a ray, 
 Thy glory and our knowledge to improve ; 
 Thou mixt Thy beams with our exalted Clay, 
 And we, enlightened, learn to call thee Love. 
 
 II. 
 
 All was in Chaos and confusion laid 
 Till by Loves creating word 
 The melancholy Mass was stir'd 
 
 And the commanded Elements with hasty joy obey'd. 
 Then peaceful Sphears with wond'rous Music roll'd, 
 Time his harmonious course began, 
 The circling Years in glad procession ran, 
 Order and beauty blest the New-born World. 
 And every objecl: strove to prove 
 
 That all was made and all preserv'd by love. 
 
 III. 
 
 When Heav'ns last noblest Masterpiece was made 
 Love, pow'rful love, unlockt his pregnant side 
 And kindly thence call'd forth the blushing Bride 
 Love to his heart a secret was convey 'd 
 And made him bless the wound ... court the Maid 
 
 Love did the willing Souls unite 
 Whilst he became her strength She his delight 
 
 This happy Pair more truly One 
 Then when both Sexes lay in Adams side alone. 
 
 294
 
 POEMS FROM LONGLEAT MSS. 
 
 IV. 
 
 Thus they liv'd and thus they Lov'd 
 
 Each smiling Hour their bliss improv'd 
 But when for knowledge and Sins sake they stray'd 
 
 When God and love were disobey'd 
 By God and love the mild decree was giv'n (Heav'n. 
 
 Which threw them down from Paradise and rais'd them up to 
 
 V. 
 
 Exalted Lyre thy tuneful sinews move 
 
 Teach Man divinity and love 
 Forgetfull Man in Bethlems poor abode 
 Behold new born Eternity 
 And hear the Thunderers voice chang'd to an Infants cry 
 Nourish'd like Thee with circulating blood 
 Compound like Thee with limbs and cloath'd with skin 
 Like Thee in every thing, but Sin. 
 
 VI. 
 
 Then cast (if Tears restrain not) cast thy Eye 
 Up to the dismal top of frighted Calvary 
 
 See whom thy Pray'rs so oft invok'd 
 To whom thy fadings fell, thy Altars smoak'd 
 
 See to the fatal Cross He's ty'd 
 The thorns his temples wound, the spear his side : 
 And to compleat his glorious Miserys, 
 Imperious Love, what wou'dst thou more? he Dyes. 
 
 What wou'dst Thou more ? Thy Deity we own 
 
 By thy mysterious Power alone 
 The JVorld was fram'd, Man sav'd, God crucified. 
 
 To the E. of Dorset 
 
 on the Birth of His Son. 
 
 W 
 
 I. 
 
 AKE Goddess wake Thy drousy Lyre 
 
 Let the neglected Chords to louder Strains be strung, 
 
 And raise Thy voice, and swell thy numbers higher, 
 
 No common Theme requires Thy Song 
 
 295
 
 MATTHEW PRIOR 
 
 For loe ! from old Eternities glad Womb 
 
 The promis'd day, the glorious Birth is come : 
 
 'Tis come ; the noble Babe securely lies 
 
 On his fair Mothers joyful breast ; 
 
 (Happy his Age whose Infancy enjoys 
 
 A Seat of Plenty and a Heav'n of rest.) 
 
 But Oh ! what Clouds of glory, clouds of light 
 
 Too strong for feeble Mans external Eye 
 
 Roll round the noble Babe, and mock my drowned sight : 
 
 That Light, that glory I wou'd see ; 
 
 Hear, Goddess, hear thy Votary 
 
 The meanest of thy Sons inspire 
 Come to my breast, and with Thy pow'rful ray 
 
 Drive dimm humanity away 
 
 Wake, Goddess, wake thy Lyre. 
 
 II. 
 
 Hark the quicken'd Lyre awaks 
 Each willing string melodious tremblings makes : 
 
 And see ! the appeas'd Air, and opening sky 
 Proclaim the Goddess nigh. 
 She's here, I feel the generous rage within 
 
 Enliven each extended vein. 
 I feel the kind the cruel Goddess roll 
 All through each part of my exalted Soul 
 And prest with Joy and pain'd with extacy 
 Loe ! what mighty things I see. 
 
 III. 
 
 Mids't a fair Troop of smiling Deities : 
 Grave Janus with Majestic pace draws near 
 The sacred place where the blest Infant lies 
 Janus with pleasing Care and easy Joy 
 
 Does all his happy Eyes imploy 
 
 The lovely Babe to view 
 Employs 'em all, and thinks them all too few. 
 
 Pleas'd and ravish'd with the sight 
 He wings the coming Hours with new delight 
 
 No more looks backward now, but here 
 From this blest Birth dates the enobl'd Year. 
 
 296
 
 POEMS FROM LONGLEAT MSS. 
 
 IV. 
 
 Jocund Hymen next appears 
 His fragrant head with chearful joy he rears 
 With freshest wreaths his hair was bound 
 With brightest flames his torch was crown'd 
 Onward he came and coming smiPd 
 And saw and kist and blest the happy Child 
 He saw and kist and blest, and laugh'd aloud 
 Whilst all the little lovely crowd 
 Who with officious Joy stood hov'ring by 
 Laugh'd aloud with Him, and blest the Augury. 
 
 V. 
 
 Wanton and gay came Venus by 
 Venus saw Dorinda's Son 
 Smil'd and took him for her own 
 And much She wou'd have said of flames and darts 
 
 Of sighing Maids and yeilding hearts 
 
 But Pallas with majestic gravity 
 Reprov'd the light discourse, and know she crys 
 This Child is born to nobler Victories 
 Arms and the dusky field shal be his care 
 'Tis he shal lead the gene'rous Britain forth 
 
 To hazardous encounter and hard war 
 He shal renew his fam'd forefathers worth 
 
 And bid the wond'ring Soldier imitate 
 His Virtue and be great. 
 She said, and reverently low deprest 
 Her armed head down to the Lovely Child 
 The lovely Child with Ominous gallantry 
 Threw his young Arms around her glittring Crest 
 
 And claspt it to him close and smil'd 
 Whilst all the greater Gods that waited by 
 Bow'd to the Babe, and blest the Augury. 
 
 With mild Magnificence and humble State 
 See Jove himself vouchsafes to wait. 
 
 297
 
 MATTHEW PRIOR 
 
 A Hymn to the Spring. 
 
 F 
 
 I. 
 
 'AIREST Child of flowing time, 
 Earths refreshment, Heav'ns delight, 
 Beauties honor, Natures prime 
 Joy of our Soul, and glory of our sight ! 
 O bridle in the posting hours ; 
 Thy too precipitated course restrain, 
 Cast out thy blossoms, spread thy flow'rs, 
 Augment our pleasure, and prolong thy reign. 
 
 For t'were impiety to wish Thee gone, 
 Tho Summer next and all her fruits come on. 
 
 II. 
 
 All, thy absent Deity 
 
 With repeated Pray'rs implore ; 
 
 All rejoice, thy Presence nigh, 
 Behold thy Miracles, and bless thy Pow'r. 
 
 The Farmer from thy looks receives 
 The blooming promise of a fruitful Year : 
 
 The Lover from thy bounty weaves 
 An early Honor for his Mistress' hair : 
 The sullen Warrior smiles, to see thee spread 
 The future Pride of his ennobled head. 
 
 III. 
 
 Senseless as the Year we lye, 
 
 'Till kind spring's enlivening fires 
 
 Wakens our activity, 
 Improves our Joys, and heightens our desires. 
 
 For thee ev'n Venus we'l despise 
 Thou brighter Queen of Harmony and Love ! 
 
 And Thee too born above the skies 
 Without a fiftious Metaphor we'l prove : 
 For what is Heav'n but bright recesses, where 
 A constant Spring inriches all the Year ? 
 
 298
 
 POEMS FROM LONGLEAT MSS. 
 
 A Session of the Poets 
 
 (imperfect). 
 
 SINCE the King like a venterous Gamster at Loo 
 Threw by his old Courtiers, and took in for new 
 Till by shuffling and drawing the cards were so mix't 
 That those which Won this deal were laid aside next 
 The Sons of the Muses began to repine 
 That who e'er was turn'd out John Dryden kept in 
 So, Numerous and Noisy to Phoebus they came 
 To ask why of All the Knaves he shou'd be Pam. 
 
 John Dryden appear'd at the head of the Gang, 
 And with a low bow and learned Harangue 
 He said with Submission he thought t'wou'd be hard 
 If he of the Bays shou'd at length be debar'd 
 Who so well had writ and so frankly declar'd. ; 
 
 Declaring says Phoebus, concerns not this court ; 
 They that set you at work let 'em e'en pay you for't 
 Whats Religion to Us, tis well known that many 
 Have manag'd the Place well without having Any. 
 For matter of Writing 'tis frankly confest 
 If we'l take your bare word for't You do it much best. 
 
 next thing that advances 
 Is the Priest to the Sacrifice honest S l Francis 
 Ochanti, Huy Hannon, Rozarno, Tzinzummey 
 Bloody hands, blazing Comets, Priests devils and Mummy 
 Sure this will engage You? Apollo says No 
 All these pritty tricks Lee in Bedlam can show 
 Why then (tho Despina and Tamerlane fail) 
 I'm my Lord Dorsets Friend, I hope that may prevail, 
 Apollo bow'd low at the name, and declar'd 
 What a just Veneration he had for my Lord. 
 But heark'yee Sir Knight, says the God, that wont do 
 For if he had the Bays whom his honor best knew 
 W. R. has fairer pretences than You. 
 
 299
 
 MATTHEW PRIOR 
 
 Old Waller came next, and handsomly pleaded 
 That none writ so neat and so calmly as he did 
 That with very much Wit he no anger exprest 
 Nor sharpen'd his Verse with a Venemous Jest. 
 And granting all this, said Apollo, old Friend 
 'Twil signify little to'th' business in hand 
 For as he that's dubb'd Hero, must first to the Wars 
 And bring home sore bruises and hazardous scars 
 So, he that wou'd rise and be prov'd a true Bays 
 (To be fitted in every respecl to the Place) 
 Must be damn'd for his plays and for Satyr Sustain 
 
 To beatings at least in a little By-Lane. 
 
 Next little Tom Durfey demanded the Bays 
 For the sense of his Songs and the Plot of his Plays 
 A double pretence which I'l vow very Strong 
 But I've heard says Apollo a Scurrilous Song 
 In which You've affronted my friend Mrs. Long 
 And heark-yee Squire Durfey the Man that refuses 
 Respect to the Sex is no friend to the Muses. 
 
 Next Maidwel who young Poetasters can bring 
 As some do tame Blackbirds, to Whistle and Sing 
 His Tropes and his Figures most finely employs 
 To purchace the Wreath for himself and his Boys 
 For if he that Taught best had most right to the Laurel 
 Old Busby not he must determine the Quarrel 
 Apollo inform'd him he shou'd be most glad 
 If from his own Works any Plea cou'd be made 
 But at present he thought his pretences but bad. 
 
 From the Island of Love with a Shipload of Verse 
 Comes Afra and asks the Court leave to Rehearse 
 Enjoyment and Raptures and pretty Devises 
 EnamelPd on Watches for Damon and Isis 
 The Poetess Sung : at length swore She'd prove 
 That She and Jack Hoyle taught the whole Age to Love 
 And on with't She ran, nor had ended till now 
 But Phoebus reprov'd her, and gave her to know 
 That her Tongue went too fast, and her Love watch too Slow. 
 
 If e'er he was found 
 To chuse words for any thing else but the sound. 
 
 300
 
 POEMS FROM LONGLEAT MSS. 
 
 The next that put in for't was little Jo Crown 
 He swore his Sir Courtly had ravish'd the Town. 
 Then Shadwel too sweated amain in the Praise 
 Of the language and Plot of his Squire of Alsace 
 They both were put by, So were two or three more 
 That fell short of the Lawrel the Session before 
 For they cou'd no more their Pretensions repeat 
 Than a horse thats once distanc'd may run second heat. 
 
 With a bundle of Poetry Settle was there 
 Some brought from the Play-house, and some from the Fair. 
 But Apollo assur'd him, he never wou'd chuse 
 The Laurel from such Demi Poets as those 
 Who write Treason in Verse, and recant but in Prose. 
 
 Sir Ch:.... that can write and better Translate 
 Was likewise Deny'd it for he'd an Estate 
 And from Homer to D....n it never was known 
 That the Laureat had three Pence a Year of his own. 
 
 Tom Wicherly challeng'd the Bays as his Due 
 And brought the plain Dealer to prove his words true. 
 I own says Apollo the Strength of Your Plea 
 But e'er You've the Place, there's one rub in Your way 
 The Test my Dear Friend, You must certainly take 
 Wou'd to God we cou'd get it repeal'd for your Sake. 
 
 After these a whole Gang with ill looks and hard Names 
 Thrust up to Apollo and forc'd in their Claims. 
 
 To a Friend on his Marriage. 
 
 CHAMONT was absent, and remembrance brought 
 Him and past blessings thick upon my thought ; 
 Those but my Tortures now, whilst my vext heart 
 Beat quick and throb'd, and sought its nobler part 
 Nor wou'd have rest, uneasy still Alone 
 I scorn'd the Wretch My self, my Worth was gon. 
 In Company I strove for ease in Vain, 
 Whilst Mirth in others but increas'd my Pain. 
 Med'cines from Books as vain I often took, 
 They that writt best but told me how you spoke 
 
 301
 
 MATTHEW PRIOR 
 
 In vain I saw : each objecl: thro my Eye 
 
 Touch'd my Soul quick with something stil of Thee 
 
 My Friend and I sat there, we that way mov'd 
 
 These read, these Tallc'd, and every where we Lov'd. 
 
 But when 'twas said thou n'er must hope to see 
 
 That Friend return to things below and Thee. 
 
 Happy He triumphs, happy has possest 
 
 A Seat of Glory and a Heav'n of rest 
 
 'Twas base to Sigh and grew a Crime to moan 
 
 So much I Prize Your Bliss beyond my own. 
 
 Theseus stil lov'd, and stil desir'd his Friend 
 Whilst great Alcides yet on Earth remain'd : 
 But when the Hero to his Heav'n arriv'd, 
 Most the Youth wanted him, yet least he griev'd 
 Pleas'd that the Friend was in the God improv'd, 
 He learn'd to Worship what before he lov'd. 
 Accept my first Oblation, thy own heart, 
 (For Friendship shal be forc'd to let it part) 
 'Tis Love demands it, and I will resign : 
 Honoria gave her own, and merits Thine, 
 And to return it thus I triumph more 
 Then keeping it from all the Sex before. 
 Accept my Wishes too ; meet all the Charms 
 The Muses gave, in Dear Honoria's Arms. 
 
 [Herself a Muse more Noble than the Nine 
 
 For when we harmony it self wou'd paint 
 Art does but in One graceful figure join 
 
 The Lovely Woman and the Pious Saint.] 
 
 May all thy Hours in glad Procession pass 
 
 Kind as her look and soft as her Embrace 
 
 And every Hour new Pleasures may'st thou find 
 
 All fair and Lovely as thy Mistress' Mind 
 
 And sure that's very lovely, very fair 
 
 Nothing but Heav'n and You, my friend, are there. 
 
 May all her future Minutes happy prove 
 
 As are Thy Numbers when Thou writst of Love 
 
 How strangely happy these well beauty knew 
 
 She fled Apollo but she ran to You 
 
 302
 
 POEMS FROM LONGLEAT MSS. 
 
 May smiling Peace and gentle Concord spread 
 
 Their blooming Sweets around thy spotless Bed 
 
 And may Mankind with pleasing wonder see 1 
 
 Successive Hopes of Thy great Progeny 
 
 'Till Dear Chamonts and Virgils labours Dye. J 
 
 Letter to J.... 
 
 MY little Wid: to you I send 
 Or as my Doctress or my Friend 
 
 Hoping these Lines may find You S g 
 
 As I am at this present writing 
 I yesternight read Nendicks bills 
 Believ'd his lies and took his Pills 
 No sooner was the Rascall swallow'd 
 Ah J...y can you guess what follow'd r 
 I'l swear I thought I shou'd have quicken'd, 
 And from that moment fondly reckon'd. 
 At last my Physic like your Marriage 
 Brought nothing forth but a Miscarriage. 
 When I had suffer'd as I tell Yee 
 Those plaguey wamblings in my Bell}' 
 Backwards I much Dismist, and after 
 Indeed I scarse cou'd hold my Water. 
 Faith J..e those Pills are past enduring 
 That work at once by Stool and Urine; 
 I shou'd not, were you here, intreat Yee 
 To give me liberty to beat Yee; 
 For gentle walking will alone 
 Bring neighbor Nendick kindly down. 
 Thus having Thirty times I think 
 Drank your dear health in posset drink 
 I Answer to my Billet doux Require 
 And rest 
 
 Sweet J..e 
 
 Your filthy Friend 
 
 M. Pr...r. 
 
 3°3
 
 MATTHEW PRIOR 
 
 To Dr F 
 
 in a Letter to Beverley 
 
 disswading him from drinking 
 
 Waters. 
 
 TO clear the Brain or purge the thought 
 Your Waters are not worth a Groat, 
 The Spaw it self cou'd never do't 
 Unless Your Brain lay in your Gutt. 
 Your Costive fancy if You'd stir up, 
 Add to your Waters Pills or Syrrup. 
 So your loose Muse may chance to store yee 
 With Arguments a Posteriori 
 You (like the Spaniard) may be writing 
 Some handsom TracT: of easy Sh....g, 
 Or making some clean Returnello 
 Of who Sh...s white or who Sh...s yellow. 
 But if some labour you design 
 Like all its Breth'ren fair and fine 
 Lay by your Element and rather 
 Drink (by my Lords good leave) Forefather. 
 When Jove his Godhead purg'd with water 
 He got some Sneaking Fountain Daughter. 
 
 But for the Offspring of his brain 
 His head ak'd much, and he cry'd Alass ! 
 
 Twas Wine that brought the generous pain 
 The God drank hard, and out sprang Pallas. 
 To her pale Sons, insipid his 
 The draught of her own Stream advises ; 
 But well We know, our Alma-Mater 
 Holds Claret wholsomer than Water : 
 And by her Caudle and her Cup 
 Bids Sitt up late, and drink all up. 
 
 3°4
 
 POEMS FROM LONGLEAT MSS. 
 
 [Inspired Wit.] 
 
 IF ever I had any Wit t'was when I had the Honor to 
 be with Your Lordship, and then too it was not mine by 
 Nature but inspiration. 
 
 So when the meanest Priest comes near the Cell 
 Where the pleas'd Deity vouchsafes to dwell 
 Farewell Humanity, a Nobler ray 
 Descends and drives Him from Himself away 
 With mighty Joy his sacred Silence breaks 
 And much the God inspires, and much the Prophet speaks. 
 
 Epistle to Lord 
 
 THAT with much Wealth and large encrease, My Lord, 
 Your happy Granaries are amply stor'd ; 
 That You can boast a Noble race, and show 
 United Honors Center'd all in You; 
 That in all Turns of State Your word has stood, 
 To Your own Honor, and Your Countries Good ; 
 That You so sing, that since great Strephons death 
 No daring brow claims ev'n the Second wreath : 
 Yet these Perfections, were my thoughts declar'd, 
 Nor ask that praise, nor merit that reward, 
 As that One good, which ev'en Your Foes confess 
 (If any such there can be) You Possess. 
 A real Judgment, and a Solid Mind ~\ 
 
 Expert to use these blessings in their kind, J- 
 
 As Prudence dictates, and as God design'd. 
 
 'Tis true, I think not an impartial dole 
 Of Sense distributed to every Soul ; 
 So that no Two, but can exactly say, 
 Each had his Measure, tho a diff'rent way : 
 Yet potent Nature frankly has bestow'd 
 Such various gifts amongst the mingl'd Crowd, 
 
 p. ii. u 305
 
 MATTHEW PRIOR 
 
 That I believe, the dullest of the kind, 
 Wou'd he but Husband and Manure his Mind, 
 Might find some Exce'llence there, which well-improv'd 
 At home might make him Pleas'd, in public Lov'd. 
 Some with grave Judgment can decide the Cause, 
 And govern Nations and Establish Laws. 
 Others in rougher Policy Excell, 
 Manage their Troops and wage the Battel well. 
 With useful Science, some, and wholsom rules, 
 Improve our Virtues, and exalt our Souls. 
 And some search cunning Nature, and declare 
 How all things did, and why they thus appear. 
 Some know to bound the Earth ; and some to Guide 
 The lab'ring Bark above th' impetuous Tyde. 
 Some can with Art alure the trembling string, 
 And happy wonders in apt Measures Sing. 
 Others can form the Hero or the Saint, 
 In breathing Stone, or animated Paint. 
 Thus some may profit us, and some may please ; 
 All may have diff'rent Honors, diff'rent ways. 
 
 Some have large Wealth and may receive the guest 
 Others have Wit and Mirth to crown the feast. 
 
 Then all that Vice, and those absurdities, 
 Which every moment every body sees, 
 Arise, (might I declare my thoughts,) from this ; 
 Not that Men want, but use their Parts amiss : 
 Not One in Twenty their own Tallents know, 
 The Ox wou'd champ the bitt, the War horse plough; 
 The Coward Sieges and Campaigns recites, 
 The Cripple dances, and the Coxcomb writes. 
 
 [i.] Is there a Man, on whom indulgent fate 
 Has smil'd, and thrown a competent Estate ? 
 With Sense enough to use the blessing right, 
 To his own Pleasure, and his Friends delight. 
 On he shal run, where Nature never mean't, 
 Nor friends, nor force, nor Bedlam, shal prevent. 
 Perhaps his Whim runs to Divinity, 
 Not Pulton then, not Casuist ABC, 
 Or their new Converts, troublesome as he. 
 
 306
 
 POEMS FROM LONGLEAT MSS. 
 
 Perhaps to Law ; his Cases then shal tire 
 
 A City Orphan, or a Norfolk Squire ; 
 
 His unintelligible Talk shal put 
 
 A Widow, or a real Lawyer, out. 
 
 Take heed (crys all the Country) come not near ! 
 
 'Tis Term-time at his Table all the Year. 
 
 [2.] Is there another, with such moderate Sence 
 As just suffices not to give offence ? 
 Tis odds but he shal Print his Poetry, 
 Tho such perhaps as Higden writes or I : 
 Nestles amongst the Criticks in the Pitt, 
 And talks at Will's, and wou'd be thought a Wit. 
 
 (1) No Ancient Piece, much harder than the rest, 
 That by Translation scorns to be exprest, 
 But all those People who to Phillis chime, 
 And make admiring and desiring Rhime, 
 With Emu'lous Labour turn and tumble it, 
 And heads forthwith are scratch'd, and nailes are bitt. 
 
 No happy Picture, whose rich features show 
 Vandyke ! Thy labour, or Thine, Angelo ! 
 But whilst the Dawbers with joint pains combine 
 To rival each inimitable line, J- 
 
 The great Original comes forth a Sign. 
 
 Painters and Poets any thing may dare — "| 
 
 I grant You, Sir, but with a previous care ^ 
 
 Of what their Strength denys, &: what t'wil bear. 
 Who, after Waller sings the Ho//and-i\ght, 
 Tells but how 111 'tis possible to write : 
 &c who wou'd throughly show his want of Skill, 
 From Lely draws my Lady Cleveland ill. 
 
 Well ; most their business, their Discourse, their Cloaths, 
 Their very Vice, unfit for them will chuse. 
 The Squire from Mother sent unflcg'd and raw, 
 To learn good breeding and to read the Law, 
 Though he has little else to justify 
 His parts, but Innocence and modesty, 
 Quitts these as soon as possibly he can, 
 And swears, and drinks, and fain wou'd be 
 
 u 2 307
 
 MATTHEW PRIOR 
 
 The rough Tarpaulin when he home has brought 
 Health, Strength, and Treasure, every thing but Thought: 
 Must needs turn Spark forsooth ; and to be known 
 Keeps very High, is jilted, and Undon. 
 
 The Land-Commander, whose ill favor'd face 
 Might make him rail at Love, and break his glass ; 
 If he 'as been once in France, affe£ts to go 
 Odly ill-drest, and spruce as any Beau, 
 Ogles, and Combs, and Bows, and does not doubt 
 To raise his Fortunes by the Pettycoat. 
 
 The Awkerd City Spark, who shou'd not Swear 
 But sneaking Shop-Oaths to put off bad Ware, 
 Nor drink but at the chusing of the May'r, 
 Getts very drunk, and with it very rude : 
 Some Suit their Inclinations, and are lewd ; 
 On Vice, in him, 'tis Saucy to intrude. 
 Vice (Says the Moralist, and wou'd dispute) 
 With no Mans Nature realy can Suit. 
 It may Deceive us tho, Sir ; but in these 
 It looks so ill, it scarse appears to please. 
 
 But to my Theme — I firmly still aver 
 Tis not through want of parts, but want of care, 
 To use those Parts aright, so many err. 
 They wont spare time to weigh the good or ill, 
 We blame their IntelleSf^ the fault lyes in their will. 
 
 I know a hopeful Youth about the Town, 
 Whose Friends and Parts design'd him for the Gown ; 
 His body was but weak, his quiet mind 
 To gentle peace seemed happily inclin'd : 
 Yet Thoughtless he, and erring in this Care, 
 Of his own strength is fall'n in love with War ; 
 Herds with the Fighters, and with pleasure feels 
 A long Toledo jarring at his Heels : 
 Talks ill of Sieges rais'd, and Armys led, 
 And wears his Cravat string, and Breeches red. 
 I met the Youth, and truly, far from spight, 
 Told him his Tallent never was to fight — 
 He frown'd, and said, "Nor Tours perhaps to Write" 
 
 308
 
 POEMS FROM LONGLEAT MSS. 
 
 To My Lady Exeter, 
 
 on New Years day. 
 
 Her Birth-Day. 
 
 I. 
 
 GREAT God of Time, whose early care 
 Ordain'd the first-horn of the Year 
 
 To wait the gentle Anna's birth 
 O stil that happy Care employ 
 And stil let all her Minutes fly 
 
 All wing'd with Peace, & crown'd with Myrtle. 
 With softest Slumbers bless her Nights 
 And wake her still to new Delights 
 Bless all her Days and bid the Year 
 To show'r its blessings all on Her. 
 
 II. 
 If Autumn blasts or Winter Storms 
 O turn on us the threaten'd harms. 
 From all that ill her beauties guard 
 For her let Spring diffuse its flowers 
 And Harvest spread its richer Stores 
 
 With all thats good her cares reward. 
 O let delight and Plenty spread 
 Their blooming Sweets around her Head 
 O let the Seasons all desire 
 To Shower their Blessings all on Her. 
 
 [III.] 
 In the dear Lord of her Desires 
 Bless her, for all his Joys are hers : 
 
 Bless him Secure from noise and harms 
 And O when Love appoints the Day 
 Enrich it with thy Noblest ray 
 
 And bring him safe[ly] to her Arms 
 O let her all those Blessings know 
 That Men can ask or Gods bestow 
 Let Love and Heav'n and Earth conspire 
 To Shower their Blessings all on her. 
 
 3°9
 
 MATTHEW PRIOR 
 
 [Answer to an] 
 Orange. 
 
 Ood People, I pray 
 Throw the Orange away, 
 'Tis a very sour Fruit, and was first brought in Play, 
 When good Judith Wilk 
 In her Pocket brought Milk, 
 And with Cushions and Warming-Pans labour'd to bilk 
 
 This same Orange. 
 
 When the Army retreats, 
 
 And the Parliament sits, 
 To vote our King the true use of his Wits ; 
 
 'Twill be a sad means, 
 
 When all he obtains 
 Is to have his Calf's Head dress'd with other Mens Brains, 
 
 And an Orange 
 
 G' 
 
 The Sins of his Youth 
 
 Made him think of one Truth, 
 When he spawl'd from his Lungs, and bled twice at the Mouth, 
 
 That your fresh sort of Food 
 
 Does his Carcase more good, 
 And the damn'd thing that cur'd his putrify'd Blood 
 
 Was an Orange. 
 
 This hopeful young Son 
 
 Is surely his own, 
 Because from [an] Orange it cry'd to be gone : 
 
 But the Hereticks say, 
 
 He was got by Da da, 
 For neither King nor the Nuncio dare stay 
 
 Near an Orange. 
 
 310 

 
 POEMS FROM LONGLEAT MSS. 
 
 Since Lewis was cut 
 
 From his Breech to the Gut, 
 France fancies an Openarse delicate Fruit : 
 
 We wiser than so, 
 
 Have two Strings to our Bow, 
 For we've a good Queen [that's] an Open [arse] too, 
 
 And an Orange. 
 
 Till Nanny writ much 
 
 To the Rebels the Dutch, 
 Her Mother, good Woman, ne'er ow'd her a Grutch : 
 
 And the Box on the Ear 
 
 Made the Matter appear, 
 That the only foul Savour the Queen could not bear 
 
 Was an Orange. 
 
 An honest old Peer, 
 
 That forsook God last year, 
 Pull'd off all his Plaisters, and arm'd for the War: 
 
 But his Arms would not do, 
 
 And his Aches throb'd too, 
 That he wish'd his own Pox, and his Mistress's too 
 
 On an Orange. 
 
 Old Tyburn must groan, 
 
 For Jefferies is known 
 To have perjur'd his Conscience to marry his Son ; 
 
 And [Devonsbires] Cause 
 
 Must be try'd by the Laws, 
 And Herbert must taste a most damnable Sauce 
 
 With an Orange. 
 
 Pen, Lob, and a score 
 
 Of those honest Men more, 
 Will find this same Orange exceedingly sour ; 
 
 The Queen to be seiz'd, 
 
 Will be very ill pleas'd, 
 And so will King Pippin, too dry to be squeez'd 
 
 By an Orange. 
 
 3 11
 
 MATTHEW PRIOR 
 
 Song 
 
 Set by M r K. 
 I. 
 
 LOVE has often threaten'd War 
 ^ Beauty led up all the Fair 
 Yet stil my heart repell'd the Harms 
 
 Their cruelty intended 
 But when my Caelia took up Arms 
 Unable to resist her Charms 
 The Fort no longer I defended. 
 
 II. 
 Strength and Wisdom useless prove, 
 Once to see her is to Love ; 
 Others in Time a heart may gain 
 
 By Treaty or Perswasion, 
 Their Conquests They by Siege obtain 
 You o'er my heart were born to reign 
 And bravely took it by Invasion. 
 
 Song 
 
 Set by Mess rs Pickering and Tudway. 
 
 EVE I confess I thought Thee but a Name 
 The Painters fancy and the Poets Theme, 
 The Old Wives Tale, the wishing Virgins dream 
 But if indeed Thou art a God 
 Supreme in Goodness and in Pow'r 
 Now make it clearly understood 
 And I'l repent and I'l adore. 
 Or use thy Mercy, and withdraw the dart 
 Gently! Ah! gently, from my fester'd heart; 
 Or strike the weapon thro my Caelia's breast 
 And be Thy Godhead by thy Pow'r exprest. 
 For whilst I follow and my Caelia flies 
 Whilst I entreat and She denys 
 I own my Self a harden'd Atheist stil 
 And must deny thy Power, or blame thy Will. 
 
 3 i2 

 
 POEMS FROM LONGLEAT MSS. 
 
 To M r K— s Tune 
 
 of the Prince's march. 
 
 C A REAT Nassau rise from Beauty 
 X Leave Maria's softer Charms 
 Call the Soldier to his Duty 
 Bid the Trumpet sound Alarms 
 To renown Love excites Thee 
 O prepare 
 Sudden War 
 Mary's injur'd Cause invites Thee 
 Love and Mary bless thy Arms. 
 
 Great Nassau rise to Glory 
 
 Rise to Save our sinking State 
 
 Truth and Justice march before Thee 
 
 Vi[c]tory behind shal wait. 
 
 Death and Hell n'er shal vex Thee 
 
 Faith and Laws 
 
 Back thy Cause 
 All our Isle with Joy expects Thee 
 March to Conquer and be great. 
 
 Sound to France, spread Thy Banner 
 Hoist thy Sails and plow the Main 
 Guarded by Success and Honor 
 Vindicate thy own again 
 Fortune laughs Fate is willing 
 
 To Advance 
 
 Thee o'er France 
 Court the Hours whilst yet they'r smiling 
 March to Overcome and Reign. 
 
 3*3
 
 MATTHEW PRIOR 
 
 Cselia. 
 
 WERE Caelia Absent and remembrance brought 
 Her and past Pleasures thick upon my thought 
 With Bacchus' Liquors I'd Loves flames defeat 
 He'd soon leave flut'ring, if his Wings were wet. 
 Else to my Books I'd dedicate my Days, 
 Forget my Daphne whilst I sought the Bays. 
 Or shou'd all other Cures successless prove 
 To some kind Present She my Suit I'd move 
 Burns are expell'd by fire and Love by Love 
 But when I want my Friend, when my vext heart 
 Beats short, and pants and seeks its nobler part 
 That absent one not millions can attone 
 Amidst a Multitude I'm stil Alone 
 My mind like Telephus's hurt is found. 
 The cause that gave can only Cure the wound. 
 
 The same 
 
 Varied. 
 
 WERE C[ae]lia absent and remembrance brought 
 Her and past raptures thick upon my thought 
 The next kind She might meet my rais'd desire 
 And beastly Lust quench Loves disabl'd Fire. 
 But when I want my Friend, when my vex't heart 
 Beats short, and pants and seeks its nobler part 
 For the sad 111 no medi'cine can be found 
 'Tis You that made, 'tis You must cure the Wound. 
 
 3H
 
 POEMS FROM LONGLEAT MSS. 
 
 A Hymn to Venus, 
 
 upon a Marriage. 
 I. 
 
 ALMIGHTY pow'r of Harmony and Love 
 L That Governst all below and blessest all above 
 At whose command this well proportion'd frame 
 From the dark womb of empty Chaos came 
 Whose smile bid wild confusion cease 
 And charm'd the jarring Elements to peace, 
 Who life and joy to th' earliest beings gave 
 And stil with new supplies defeats the conquest of the Grave 
 Marriage I sing be thou my Muse 
 To thy young Prophets Soul infuse 
 Such vigorous heat such active fire 
 As tun'd thy dear Anacreons Lyre 
 That my officious Song may prove 
 Noble as was our Lovers first desire 
 Sweet as their Courtship lasting as their Love. 
 
 II. 
 
 Yes Venus your Divinity we own 
 Your pow'r and goodness equally are shown, 
 
 Since this happy pair you join 
 
 Forsake Cythera's crouded shrine 
 
 Vidtims of vulgar hearts disclaim 
 Nor seek new Conquests but the last m[ai]ntain 
 
 Your last which has outdone 
 
 All other glories which your Cupids won 
 Since yielding to your Godhead Jove 
 Confest his Thunder less then were the Shafts of Love 
 Go let your darlings useless arms be broke 
 Let his torch languish in enaftive Smoak 
 
 His little Deity must now dispair 
 To see such Lovers at his Altars crown'd 
 
 Or vanquish with an equal wound 
 So great an Hero, and a Bride so fair. 
 
 3*5
 
 MATTHEW PRIOR 
 
 III. 
 
 On these may all your Blessings flow 
 On these your choicest Gifts bestow 
 Let all their after minutes prove 
 Kind as is your kindest Dove 
 And soft as down upon the wings of love : 
 Still with their years encrease their joy 
 Stil be their raptures full yet never cloy 
 
 Whilst each succeeding Night 
 Improves the Transport of the last delight 
 In glad procession may each rolling Year 
 See the joyful Parent bear 
 A Beauty second only to her own 
 Or if the smiling Gods conspire to crown 
 Her stronger Wishes in a Son, 
 His Fathers Soul as Image let him share 
 And prove his Honors & his Virtues Heir. 
 
 A Fable. 
 
 IN M$op\ Tales an honest Wretch we find, 
 Whose Years and Comforts equally declin'd; 
 He in two Wives had two domestick Ills, 
 For different Age they had, and different Wills; 
 One pluckt his black Hairs out, and one his Grey, 
 The Man for Quietness did both obey, 
 Till all his Parish saw his Head quite bare, 
 And thought he wanted Brains as well as Hair. 
 
 The Moral. 
 
 The Parties, hen-peckt TV m, are thy Wives, 
 
 The Hairs they pluck are thy Prerogatives; 
 Tories thy Person hate, the Whigs thy Power, 
 Tho much thou yieldest, still they tug for more, 
 Till this poor Man and thou alike are shown, 
 He without Hair, and thou without a Crown. 
 
 316
 
 POEMS FROM LONGLEAT MSS. 
 
 A new Answer to an Argument against 
 a Standing- Army, 
 
 WOuld they who have nine years loolc'd ?our 
 Against a French and Popish Power, 
 Make Friends with both in half an hour ? 
 
 This is the time. 
 
 Would they direclly break the Sword 
 By which their Freedom was restor'd, 
 And put their Trust in Lewis Word ? 
 
 This is the time. 
 
 Would they leave England unprotected, 
 To shew how well they are affe&ed, 
 And get themselves next bout elected ? 
 
 This is the time. 
 
 Would they preserve their Wives and Pullets 
 Against the Soldiers Lusts and Gullets, 
 And break our Guns to save our Bullets ? 
 
 This is the time. 
 
 Would they oblige a Winter-Sea 
 Their prudent Orders to obey, 
 And keep a standing Wind in pay ? 
 
 This is the time. 
 
 Would they but say what they're pursuing, 
 Whom they're advancing, whom undoing, 
 What pack of Knaves shall prove our Ruin ? 
 
 This is the time. 
 
 A-God's Name let 'em shew their Games, 
 
 And fix to one of these Extreams, 
 
 A Commonwealth, or else King James ; 
 
 For now's the time. 
 
 3*7
 
 MATTHEW PRIOR 
 
 [A Prophecy.] 
 
 THY King (O may I call him by that Name ? 
 But he shal be the last that e'er shal bear it). 
 
 No Man more heartily shal hate his Wife 
 
 Then he shal Thee ; nor fly with more impatience 
 
 Into a yielding Mistress' dear Embraces 
 
 Then he to Belgia's shore, Belgia thy Rival 
 
 In Empire and in Interest. She shal Triumph, 
 
 Shal to the farthest East send forth 
 
 New Colonies and build her proud Abodes 
 
 On Ganges and in India, She shal have Treaties 
 
 Made for Her sake alone and Kingdom given. 
 
 Thy Miters shal be worn by Men at best 
 
 Stupid and Ignorant, scarce capable 
 
 To guide a Parish Flock, by others famous 
 
 For Rapes, and Outlaw'd from their Native Country 
 
 For having by Vile Treasons giv'n up 
 
 The Masters that had fed them, Fools and Madmen 
 
 Shal Prophecy false dreams, that take distemper 
 
 For Revelation 
 
 And comment Blasphemy on sacred Scripture 
 
 These, these shal Rule thy Clergy. 
 
 Thou shalt have Priests immerst in Lust & Gluttony 
 And Bishops Three times Married, thy Cathedrals 
 The Seats where Prayer and Hospitality 
 Shou'd dwell, shal be the Taverns of the Land, 
 Where drunken bowles incessantly go round 
 In leud debauch and midnight Dice are Hurl'd, 
 The Beds wherein the weari'd Pilgrim us'd 
 To ease his crippled Limbs, he now shal find 
 Possess'd with Women, Nurses, She Attendants 
 And a dishonest Brood of ugly Children. 
 
 318 

 
 POEMS FROM LONGLEAT MSS. 
 
 Ballad. 
 
 THE Factions which Each other claw 
 By joint consent have both undone Thee 
 Thou like the Goat in Moses Law 
 Hast all the Nations Sins upon Thee. 
 
 Whilst H.. upon thy Faults descants 
 
 H and M shal join 
 
 Not one but roars at Irish grants 
 
 But all forget You past the Boyne. 
 
 Five hundred Hams all pleas'd all proud 
 That they their Fathers Shame discover 
 
 But not one Japhet in the Crowd 
 To draw the Decent Mantle over. 
 
 What in Thy Government is right 
 
 To So r's Name shal stand recorded 
 
 The Lawrels Thou hast gain'd in fight 
 Let O d's Merit be rewarded. 
 
 Thy Ministry supports the Throne, 
 With prudence O d all disasters: 
 
 What proves successful is their own, 
 And what Miscarrys is their Masters. 
 
 Twas by a House of Commons wrought 
 That Priests and Papists shan't Alarm ye 
 
 But twas His Majestys own fault 
 
 That we have neither Fleet nor Army. 
 
 [A Ballad of Vigour.] 
 
 THE Crown once again 
 Its Rights shal maintain 
 And the Nation shal make a good Figure 
 For our Glorious Redeemer 
 Tells Harley and Seymour 
 Tis time They shou'd Aft with great vigor. 
 
 3 J 9
 
 MATTHEW PRIOR 
 
 When the Hands of the Pages 
 
 Find how sad a thing Age is 
 In our little dispirited Fr: — 
 
 Tis likely his Brains 
 
 New fire shou'd retain 
 And He'l act with abundance of Vigor 
 
 His Majesty's Actions 
 
 Shal soon suppress Factions 
 And by May he shal Paris beleaguer 
 
 For without Troops or Pence 
 
 Without Counsels or Sense 
 The King has a fancy for Vigor. 
 
 Whilst He lays his concerns on 
 
 The shoulders of Vernon 
 His Credit will surely grow bigger 
 
 And if Sunderland comes 
 
 Sound Trumpet beat Drums 
 No doubt but We'l act with great Vigor. 
 
 Albemarle leads the way 
 
 Drest like Mars in a play 
 With Cassie as fierce as a Tyger 
 
 And Miremont the Prince 
 
 Shal his Country convince 
 That His Majesty's Fav'rites have Vigor. 
 
 Vice Chamberlain Bartie 
 
 Is in the Court Partie 
 Lord Cuts for the Combat is eager 
 
 And for Jore and Laloe 
 
 Grand Louis shal know 
 What it is to be given to Vigor. 
 
 But if Whigs get the better 
 
 You'l see how He'l fetter 
 And Hamstring our Royal Intreguer 
 
 If the Tory prevails 
 
 In comes little W. ..., 
 And have We not acted with Vigor ? 
 
 320
 
 POEMS FROM LONGLEAT MSS. 
 
 Seneca, Troas. A£t 2 d . 
 
 The Chorus Translated. 
 
 IS it a Truth, or but a well told Lye 
 That Souls have being, when their Bodies Dye. 
 When the sad Wife has clos'd her Husbands Eyes 
 And pier[c]'d the ecchoing Vaults with doleful crys, 
 Is not the Husbands life entirely fled, 
 His Soul extinguish'd as the Body dead ; 
 Or does that other part of Him remain 
 Stil chain'd to Life, and stil condemn'd to Pain ? 
 No no, before Our Friends officious Care, 
 Can light the Torch and solemn rites prepare, 
 Our breath is mix'd, and lost, with common air. 
 As far as East or West extended go, 
 As far as Sun-beams gild or Waters flow, 
 All beings have a destin'd space to run, 
 And all must Perish, as they all begun. 
 The Sun, the Moon, and every Sign above 
 Fix'd by strong Fate, in destin'd Courses move 
 Like Us for certain Periods they endure, 
 Their life much longer, but their end as sure. 
 As smoke which rises from the kinling Fires 
 Is seen this moment, and the next expires ; 
 As empty Clouds by rising winds are tost, 
 Their fleeting forms scarce sooner found, then lost, 
 So vanishes our State, so pass our days, 
 So life but opens now, and now decays 
 The Cradle and the Tomb alas ! too nigh 
 To live is scarce distinguish 'd from to Dye 
 After Death nothing is, and very Death, 
 It self is nothing, 'tis but want of breath, 
 The utmost Limit of a narrow span, 
 An end of Motion whicli with life began. 
 Death shows us only what we know was near, 
 It cures the Misers wish, and checks the Cowards fear, 
 
 p. ii. x 321
 
 MATTHEW PRIOR 
 
 Where shalt Thou be when thou art laid in Earth 
 Where we'rt Thou timorous thing, before thy birth ? 
 Disolv'd in Chaos, on the formless Mass, 
 Of what may be contending with what was, 
 Old Night and Death extend their noxious Pow'r, 
 O'er all the Man, the Body they devour, 
 Nor spare the Soul, a Kingdom in the dark 
 Furies that Howl three headed Dogs that bark 
 Are empty Rumors form'd in Childrens Schools 
 The Tales of Pedants, and the Dreams of Fools. 
 
 Translated from the 
 Original French. 
 
 WHILE soft She Parly'd with becoming grace, 
 And courteous smiles adorn'd her lovely face ; 
 
 Who heard her speak Himself might soon deceive ; 
 And fondly hope she felt the wound she gave : 
 But, Oh ! great Love Thy Votarie's must take care 
 To Serve Thee well, but trust Thee not too far. 
 
 [Reality and Image.] 
 
 FOR instance, when You think You see a 
 Fair Woman, 'tis but her Idea : 
 If You her real Lips Salute, 
 Or but their shade, will bear dispute. 
 " Look there (say You) I see a Horse " — 
 Lord Sir how Idly you discourse ? 
 " I see a Horse, I'm sure thats true." 
 I say the Devil a Horse see You ; 
 
 322
 
 POEMS FROM LONGLEAT MSS. 
 
 You see a Horse's Image, lain 
 In Miniature upon your brain ; 
 But what you take for fourteen Hand, 
 Is less than half a grain of Sand. 
 Things must be stated by their Nature ; 
 The less cant comprehend the greater : 
 Now, if your Groom wou'd n'er be able 
 To set old Crop into the Stable, 
 Unless (pray mind) the Door at least 
 Was something larger than the beast: 
 The Fellow sure wou'd never be 
 Devoid of Sense to that Degree, 
 As to desire, much less to try, 
 To thrust his Nagg into your Eye. 
 
 Verses Intended for Lock 
 
 and Montaigne. 
 
 E" CK, wou'd the Human understanding show ; 
 In vain he squanders Thought & Time and Ink. 
 People themselves most certainly must know, 
 
 Better than He cou'd tell, how they can think ? 
 
 I fancy things may quickly be agreed, 
 
 If once for All we state our notions right ; 
 
 And I (thank gracious Heav'n) need never read 
 
 One line that Thou, Friend Lock, did'st ever write. 
 
 Sic argumentum pono : if my head 
 
 Had been exactly made, and fill'd like Thine, 
 I shou'd have known what ever thou had'st said, 
 
 Tho in Thy work I had not read a line. 
 
 And if again, pray mind, Thy head and Mine 
 
 Are form'd and stufFd quite different from each other ; 
 
 I n'er shal understand one single line, 
 
 Tho I shou'd read thy Folio ten times over. 
 
 Written at Down-Hall. 
 
 X 2 323
 
 MATTHEW PRIOR 
 
 Fragments Written 
 At Down-Hall. 
 
 FOR when your Judge becomes your Foe 
 Think nor to give nor ward the blow 
 The danger prudently to shun 
 Forbear to plead and learn to run 
 What good can Culprits staying do 
 When Laws explain'd by Pow'r pursue ? 
 Avails it [a]ught what you can say 
 If all the Bench resolves the Nay ? 
 When Truth out-voted comes too late 
 What does She but Prevaricate ? 
 The Circumstances change the case, 
 'Tis now no Tryal but a race, 
 What signifies Achilles speed 
 But to be rid in time of need ? 
 When angry Paris aim'd the Dart 
 Against the Heroes Mortal part 
 Instead of Fighting, had he fled, 
 His Heel might have secur'd his Head. 
 
 To her loose dress She calls some foreign Aid 
 That shows the wanton fears to dye a Maid 
 Some flow'ry Honor from the neighboring field 
 Or Emblem taken from her Lovers Shield 
 Yet when her fine degrees thy Column rise 
 Their secret charms illude our captive Eyes 
 With too much Science we admire Thee wrought 
 Yet praise thy Beauty while we own thy Fault. 
 
 The Plowshares now deform the martial plain 
 Raking the Sculls of the once glorious Slain. 
 
 3 2 4
 
 POEMS FROM LONGLEAT MSS. 
 
 Still craving yet stil Roger cry'd 
 I'll live to-Morrow but to-Night he dy'd 
 Strange the delusion of his hopes and fears 
 While that he Starv'd himself to cram his heirs. 
 
 Stil base to those who meant Thee well 
 Ungrateful stil to those that rais'd Thee. 
 
 Forget my too officious Zeal 
 
 And pardon Me if I have prais'd Thee. 
 
 Fragments for Alma. 
 
 STIL like to keep their fancy up 
 No more can drink yet kiss the Cup 
 * * * those who have weak heads 
 
 Their Answer from their fitts provide 
 And wear their Logic by their side. 
 
 Blind Folks shall know You by Your walk 
 And Dumb and Deaf shal see You talk. 
 
 All this says Richard is but Nonsense 
 For whats the Will without the Conscience 
 That mighty Pow'r by whom the thought 
 Is from Kings Bench to Chancery brought 
 What Seat for her have You assign'd 
 When She may view and sway the mind. 
 
 Dear Dick at Surgeons Hall they tell Y[e] 
 There are two Regions in the belly 
 The Diaphragma (You love Greek) 
 The Midriff as the Vulgar speak 
 Lyes between both that thou may'st know 
 How far the bounds of either go 
 As in the Tennis-court the Nett 
 Determines either Parties bett 
 Or Berwick whilom did distinguish 
 The Limitts between Scots and English. 
 
 3 2 5
 
 326 
 
 MATTHEW PRIOR 
 
 For hark You, Richard, shou'd we put 
 The Conscience lower towards the Gut 
 It wou'd remain inept and quiet 
 And stil go downward with our Diet 
 Hence the Desires She wou'd Produce 
 Wou'd all be Sordid Base & Loose. 
 
 Now place her in a higher part 
 Amid'st the Region of the heart 
 From thence so many Conduits lead 
 Directly upward to the head 
 That mounting by too swift advances 
 And bursting in ten thousand fancys 
 She wou'd from Neighborhood of place 
 Be always flying in your face 
 And fire your Brain with so much Heat 
 That You wou'd neither Sleep nor Eat 
 For Dick Your Conscience 
 
 Yet happy Human race my Friend 
 Did here the sickly madness end. 
 But Mitis troubl'd half the nation 
 About his Offsprings Education ; 
 And urg'd by some unhappy fate 
 Gave him Two Thirds of his Estate 
 To settle the sad Wretch in Mariage 
 (This of his life the Sole Miscariage) 
 Yet Hopeful counts his Fathers Years, 
 And blames the Sloth of Clotho's Sheers ; 
 That thus protracts the long wish'd death ; 
 Of whom ? the Man who gave him breath, 
 Say this, and the ill jesting Calf 
 Replyes ye with an impious laugh 
 His Mother help'd, and he cou'd spare 
 Her too, from all this Worldly care : 
 Were She, good Soul, but once in Heav'n 
 Her Jointure wou'd set matters even. 
 Wou'd Fate this double Blessing give 
 A happy Orphan he shou'd Live.
 
 POEMS FROM LONGLEAT MSS. 
 
 Hence Frantic Att-all's endless rage 
 Hates the Recess requir'd by Age 
 
 ****** 
 
 Most People live by Drink and Diet, 
 He feeds on other Mens disquiet. 
 Eternal Watch the Madman keeps 
 When e'er he knows his Neighbor Sleeps. 
 Scar'd with his own injurious Deed 
 He thinks it safest to proceed. 
 Hears jingling Chains and Clinking Fetters 
 And wou'd impose 'em on his Betters 
 Which does the Bedlam fear the most 
 
 H Alive or G y's Ghost 
 
 Leave him as God and Man has done 
 And let the Muse go gently on. 
 
 With the Image of his own ill deed 
 Frighted he must to worse proceed 
 Hearing the Clinck of Chains & Fetters 
 He hopes to put them on his Betters. 
 
 And make Him say what just they please 
 As Statesmen do with Witnesses. 
 
 Further tis easy to produce 
 People who make the proper use 
 Of others Limbs, for Instance now 
 The General (Poets thus Allow 
 And Socrates) gain the Price of War 
 The Lawrel hides his want of Hair. 
 
 Besides, Dear Dick, tho You and I 
 With ipse dixet shou'd comply 
 He never will obtain his Ends 
 On many of our Gresham friends ; 
 Who with Authority dispense 
 And in its Place have setl'd sense. 
 
 3 2 7
 
 MATTHEW PRIOR 
 
 Besides a Man must never put 
 
 His Oar into anothers Boat. 
 
 Are there not Bells in every Steeple 
 
 To Summon in the Docile People ? 
 
 And Deans and Prebends, whose great Care 
 
 Some Two and Fifty times a Year 
 
 Shou'd to their Parish gravely read ? 
 
 But if They send them in their stead 
 
 Some Curate who can hardly spell, 
 
 This some conceive does e'en as well. 
 
 The World was 200 Year in the Dark 
 following Aristotle. 
 
 TILL great Des-Cart and his Seclators 
 Light up their Philosophic papers 
 Which say th' Aristotelians again 
 Were but Jack-a-lents by which men 
 Thinking they saw mistook their way 
 More then before. 
 
 Fragments. 
 
 ODD is the Justice of that Land 
 Which only lopps the Thiefs right-hand 
 The left, before inur'd to Robb, 
 Is each new Sessions in your Fobb. 
 In Britain We with wiser care 
 Chastise a Limb that has no pair ; 
 And when You hang him by the Neck 
 E'en trust him for a Second Trick. 
 
 But that of which he was bereft 
 Alas, had n'er a fellow left. 
 
 328 

 
 POEMS FROM LONGLEAT MSS. 
 
 Anaxarchus being upon the Torture in hopes of some 
 discovery bitt oft" his Tongue and spit it into the Tyrants 
 face — The Tongue thus separated from the dear root 
 
 Thus wounded and thus spit 
 
 Express'd more Wisdom Sense and Wit 
 
 Then Homer Sung or Plato writ. 
 
 Virtue and Love instruct me well 
 What to Conceal and what to tell. 
 
 Yet Distanc'd and Undone by those 
 Whom sure thou did'st Excell in Prose 
 When thou thy long mistake did'st see 
 And los'd from Prison came to me 
 Say did I not receive thee say 
 As thou had'st never gone astray. 
 
 To make thy Fortune fair Amends 
 
 In raising Thee Twelve Hundred friends 
 
 By which succeeding Age may see 
 
 Who Lov'd the Muse and Pardon'd Thee. 
 
 I saw a Thousand ill look'd foes 
 Their Daggers to thy breast oppose. 
 
 And if the Motion by the Sense you prove 
 The Ship stands still the Shoars & Cities move. 
 
 And be the Wretch thy Pitty or delight 
 Yet Swim or sink I'll hold the rudder right. 
 
 I'll have a Dart 
 Shal strike him to the heart 
 Else let me n'er to Heav'n soar 
 Nor e'er on Earth do Mischief more. 
 
 Who e'er a serious view will take 
 Of that learn'd book the Almanack 
 Will find a figur'd Man Pierc'd thro 
 With sundry Darts from head to toe 
 
 3 2 9
 
 MATTHEW PRIOR 
 
 Just so at least a Year stood I 
 
 Smote breast and back and hip and Thigh 
 
 Full twenty Foes around me came 
 
 And each at me took several Aim 
 
 Against some part each took 
 
 One at my head with Malice Stroke 
 
 T'other ram'd Perjury at my throat 
 
 This with Sophisticated reason 
 
 Shot at my hand for writing Treason 
 
 Against Them All I stood. 
 
 We bid the Men stand and deliver their Purses 
 And tying their Hands up we laugh at their Curses. 
 
 To Florimel. 
 
 CARELESS and Young O Florimel 
 Thou little Think'st of whats to come 
 O it wou'd fright Thee shou'd I tell 
 What soon must be Thy Countries Doom. 
 
 Written under a Picture painted 
 
 by Mr Howard. 
 Invocation to Fortune. 
 
 ASSIST my Cause with Honour, Justice, Truth, 
 J~\_ And Thou great Fortune wont to favor Youth 
 For me Thy Godhead by Thy Mercy prove 
 Chain cruel rage, and aid afflidted Love 
 Great Heavens Decrees undaunted let me try 
 And live with Empire or with Virtue dye. 
 
 33°
 
 POEMS FROM LONGLEAT MSS. 
 
 True Statesmen. 
 
 TRUE Statesmen only Love or Hate 
 What Lessens them, or makes them great. 
 With wond'rous kindness each Ascends, 
 Supported by his Shouldring Friends: 
 And fleering Criticks sometimes Note 
 His dirt imprinted on his Coat. 
 
 Some Lords like Wife and Husband Squable 
 
 For this fine thing, for that blew bauble, 
 
 But soon the present folly ends 
 
 And common Intrest makes them Friends. 
 
 Whilst yet Erinnis rages high 
 
 And Paper Darts in Pamphlets fly 
 
 He whose hot head wou'd interpose 
 
 Is sure to have his share of blows 
 
 But in the reconciling feast 
 
 When all the bustle proves a Jest 
 
 Where matters are adjusted fairly, 
 
 And sweetly kisses H y 
 
 The little Agents of the Plott 
 
 The understrappers are forgot 
 
 And if the Dodtor uninvited 
 
 Afraid to fancy he was slighted 
 
 Comes in, his Labours he may spy 
 
 Fix'd to the bottom of a Pye 
 
 Or find how those reward his trouble 
 
 That light their Pipes with Dear T.. D 
 
 Be not the Bully of the Nation 
 Nor foam at mouth for Moderation 
 Take not thy Sentiments on trust 
 Nor be by others Notions just 
 To Church and Queen and Laws be hearty 
 But hate a Trick and scorn a Party 
 And if thou ever has't a voice 
 Tho it be only in the Choice 
 Of Vestry Men or grey-Coat-Boys 
 
 33 1
 
 MATTHEW PRIOR 
 
 Vote right tho certain to be blam'd 
 And rather Starve than be asham'd 
 This Method I shou'd fancy best 
 You may think otherwise. I rest. 
 
 Simile. 
 
 THE worthless Cypher, when alone, 
 Is in himself much less then one ; 
 But plac'd behind more Cunning Men, 
 Exalts each figure up to Ten : 
 
 And when Two thoughtless Noughts have blunder'd, 
 The Knave before becomes a Hundred. 
 
 So rise, by Aid of worthless Fools, 
 
 The Men who know to use their Tools. 
 
 The Courtier. 
 
 Fragment. 
 
 OUR Courtiers traffick for their fame 
 Like Nymphs for what I need not name 
 If this and that time they hold out 
 It is their Virtue ? Yes no doubt 
 In short they happen to despise 
 The Lover now and now the Price 
 But be the Youth Gallant, the Sum 
 Sufficient, what reply they — Mum 
 Nature and Intrest must prevail 
 And flesh and blood you know are frail. 
 
 To charm the fair to cheat the Wise 
 To lure us to the Proffer'd Vice 
 'Tis all but coming to our Price. 
 
 332
 
 POEMS FROM LONGLEAT MSS. 
 
 Fragments. 
 
 FOR K-n-tt call'd White, and Bu...t Gil. show, 
 That Dodtors may change as Preferment may go 
 And Twenty Years hence for ought You and I know 
 Twil be Hoadly the high Sc Sacbevercl the Low. 
 Who knows how each Author may alter his mind 
 As they or the Text other Comments may find. 
 
 Grey hairs the blossom of Old age appear 
 
 To show that Death the fruit of Time is near. 
 
 When thy fair Soul ascends her Native Skys 
 Lillys and Roses from thy Dust shal rise. 
 
 One commonly talks most when one has least to say. 
 
 And giving You both Yea and Nay 
 Talks most when he has least to say. 
 
 Beauty. 
 
 HOWE'ER confess'd O Queen of Love Thy pow'r 
 It acls precarious to the coming Hour 
 And as with certain wings Old Saturn flies 
 It blossoms flourishes decays and Dies. 
 
 Pursu'd by time the pow'r of beauty flies 
 Arises flourishes Decays and dies. 
 
 In its midd Empire darts precarious rays 
 By distance bounded and confin'd to place. 
 
 Tho joyful Health and blooming Youth combine 
 
 To lay the Gift on Cythereas shrine 
 
 Far as the Nymph can look, she only reigns, 
 
 The Youth must see her Charms, to feel her Chains. 
 
 Sickness can spoil and absence can remove 
 The fond Ideas that arise from Love. 
 
 333
 
 MATTHEW PRIOR 
 
 Whilst yet it flourishes with fullest grace 
 Tis bound by distance and confin'd to place 
 Tho joyful health and blooming Youth combine 
 To bring the sacred flame to Cupids Shrine. 
 
 Narcissus. 
 
 O HAPPY Youth what can destroy 
 The long Excesses of thy Joy 
 For nothing in the whole Creation 
 Will prove a Rival to thy Passion. 
 
 On the Marchioness of 
 
 Caer mar then. 
 
 future time shal say 
 How Harleys Daughter studious past the day 
 While four-fold to the Patriot Father She restor'd 
 Blessings, which from him She at Morn implor'd. 
 
 Virgils Georgic 4 Verse 511 
 
 Qualis . . . implet 
 Translated. 
 
 SO Philomel beneath the Poplar shade 
 Mournful bewails her Brood whom the rough hind 
 Finding has taken Callow from the Nest 
 All night she weeps and sitting on the branch 
 Often repeats her Melancholly song 
 And fills the Country with her sad complaint. 
 
 334
 
 POEMS FROM LONGLEAT MSS. 
 
 Answer to the Female Phaeton. 
 
 AS Almoner in Holy Week 
 jf\ Dealing good George's Cloth and bread 
 
 Sends forth his Officers to seek 
 The People who stand most in need. 
 
 So Thou Director great in Wit 
 Amongst Us Authors rule'st the roast 
 
 Distributing as Thou think'st fit 
 To those that seem to want the most 
 
 Thou didst to me a Bard half starv'd 
 A plenteous Dole of Fame provide 
 
 And gav'st Me what I n'er deserv'd 
 Something of Phaeton and Hyde. 
 
 Respect and Memory O look back 
 Recall the beauteous Mothers Youth 
 
 Curl thou hast put me on the Wrack 
 And now believe I tell thee truth 
 
 That bright great good Nymph such I found 
 Such ! how ? durst I ? cou'd Kneller tell : 
 
 How many Years hid I the Wound 
 Which forc'd by Curl I now reveal ! 
 
 The Mothers beauties as I lov'd 
 And thought She rul'd by Right Divine 
 
 I saw the Daughters Charms improv'd 
 I courted in the Legal Line 
 
 When I saw J... what can they mean 
 Said I that e'er can think of Kitty 
 
 As Kath'arine grew and pleas'd my view 
 Poor Charlotte I beheld with pitty 
 
 Next Charlotte comes and on They run 
 Like Banco's offspring in Mackbeth 
 
 All to the Rebells of their Throne 
 Denouncing Anger wrath and Death 
 
 335
 
 33& 
 
 MATTHEW PRIOR 
 
 If beauteous Hyde can thus supply 
 Her everlasting Store of Darts 
 
 Come on I cry'd we all must dye 
 Tho every Man had twenty Hearts 
 
 What e'er may to my charge be laid 
 In public Prints or Secret Whispers 
 
 I'll tell thee all I ever said 
 Of Jinny or her beauteous Sisters. 
 
 In these I the Graces three 
 
 All beautifull all like their Mother 
 
 And Each the reigning Toast shal be 
 Why ? because Each is likest t' Other 
 
 If You three Sister Roses view 
 From that which is the fullest blown 
 
 The beauties of the other Two 
 Without much forecast may be known 
 
 Soft April, blooming May, bright J[u]ne 
 Do each in difFrent Charms appear 
 
 Yet with succeeding Pleasures crown 
 The Joys and Honors of the Year 
 
 But Phaeton or Kittys A61 
 Has set our Amorous World on fire 
 
 If Similes are not quite exacl 
 Why must they needs be made by Prior ? 
 
 Alas By adding to my fame 
 Oh gentle Curl, thou hast undone me 
 
 Making me richer than I am 
 Thou draws't my Creditors upon Me 
 
 From Blanket and Purgation free, 
 Thou long shal't live and we'el be friends, 
 
 Put out my Name & We'el agree 
 Make me at least this smal Amends. 
 
 Then Curl for Mine and for Truths Sake 
 They righteous Printing Press employ 
 
 To prove I never did mistake 
 A Lady for a Boy.
 
 POEMS FROM LONGLEAT MSS. 
 
 In a Window 
 
 in Lord Villiers house. 
 
 1696. 
 
 IN Vain by Druggs and rules of Art 
 Poor RatclifF wou'd my Lungs ensure 
 They lye too near a wounded heart 
 Whose sickness Death alone can cure. 
 
 To a Painter [fragments), 
 
 IN foreign Lands my Poetry stands dumb 
 Thy Pictures speak and Aft where e'er they Come. 
 
 But narrow bounds the English Muse can boast 
 Confin'd and fetter'd to her Native Coast. 
 
 On foreign Shoars she sullen stands h Dumb 
 Larger her Sisters pace 
 
 at Paris and at Rome 
 She speaks the Tongue and always is at home. 
 
 The pride of Babel that confin'd our Tongue 
 To narrow bounds confines the Poets Song 
 The Painters meaning thro the Earth may fly 
 For Babels Curse affected not the Eye. 
 
 Unequal is our Labour & our fame 
 
 Whilst Men talk different but they see the same. 
 
 But Thou may'st go to Athens or to Rome 
 And in each Region think Thyself at Home. 
 
 Shou'd adverse Fortune banish Me or Pope 
 
 What cou'd our Pens from France or Holland hope ? 
 
 With cruel je nentens pas we shou'd meet, 
 
 Or soft veracbt et ik vcrstaen ye neet. 
 
 P. II. Y 337
 
 MATTHEW PRIOR 
 
 A Prologue intended to the Play 
 
 of Chit Chat, but never finished. 
 
 THE ugly Beau too partial to his Glass, 
 As more he looks, and better likes his face, 
 In every place is certain to appear 
 
 Abroad I mean but there are None such here. 
 
 'Tis much the same with those who trade in verse 
 
 Fondly they write, then saucily rehearse, 
 
 By frequent Repetition bolder grown 
 
 First tire their Friends and after plague the Town. 
 
 This from Our Author I am bid to say 
 
 As some Excuse for his First coup d'Essay 
 
 When next he dares his Cens'uring Pen to draw 
 
 E'en leave him to the Letter of the Law : 
 
 With gentle Stripes Correcl the young beginner, 
 
 And hang him if he proves a Harden'd Sinner. 
 
 What he attempts to paint is Human life, 
 
 A good Man injur'd by a Modern wife ; 
 
 While neither Sense or kindness have the charms 
 
 To keep the Cocquet from the Coxcombs arms. 
 
 Had the wrong'd Husband been deseas'd and Old 
 
 Or to her play deny'd the needful gold, 
 
 The Lady might have done as She thought fit, 
 
 And these lose Scenes perhaps had n'er been writ. 
 
 But in the flower and vigour of His Age \ 
 
 To Cuckold him, creates so just a rage I 
 
 It is a very Scandal to the Stage. 
 
 Now a propos to what we nam'd, these Scenes : 
 Some will be asking what the Author means. 
 Loose and irregular they are 'tis true, 
 But pray reflecl it is your Lives he drew. 
 A well laid Plot, close order, clear design 
 Shou'd all conspire to make the Dramma Shine 
 His Plot he hopes will pardon every fault 
 'Tis what wou'd puzzle Machiavels own thought 
 
 'Tis such pray find it out 
 
 As Alberoni to his Pupil taught. 
 
 338
 
 POEMS FROM LONGLEAT MSS. 
 
 Follow these Steps, ye leam'd in State Intreagues ! 
 
 Who deal in Politicks and Powder'd Wiggs. 
 
 E'er yet quite form'd, your Schemes are all reveal'd, 
 
 But here 
 
 The action's done, but yet the Plot conceal'd. 
 
 For the design, 'tis twenty several facls, 
 
 First dropt in Scenes, then shuffl'd into Acts. 
 
 He builds his Schemes in the Lucrctian way ; 
 
 Atoms their motions into forms convey : 
 
 And Chance may rule in wit, as well as play. 
 
 One thing he bids me beg in his Defence, 
 
 That none may Praise or blame that have not Sense. 
 
 Take not poor Culprits just request amiss ; 
 
 It reaches None of You — pray freely Clap or Hiss. 
 
 } 
 
 Prelude to a Tale from Boccace 
 in blank Verse. 
 
 To the D s of Shrewsbury 
 Frederick &c: 
 
 WHAT Bocace with superior Genius Cloath'd 
 In Tuscan dress, and ludicrous Fontaine 
 (Modern Anacreon) well has imitated 
 In Gallic Style, Himself inimitable : 
 How e'er unequal to the glorious Task, 
 Yet of the noblest Heights and best Examples, 
 Ambitious, I in English Verse attempt. 
 But not as heretofore, the line prescrib'd 
 To equal cadence, and with semblant Sounds 
 Pointed, (so Modern Harmony advises) 
 But in the Ancient Guise, free, uncontroll'd, 
 The Verse, compress'd the Period, or dilated, 
 As close discourse requires, or fine description. 
 Such Homer wrote ; such Milton imitated ; 
 And Shrewsbury, candid Judge of Verse, approves. 
 
 v 2 339
 
 MATTHEW PRIOR 
 
 What Shrewsb'ury may approve, to whom pertains it ? 
 But to the Lady, loving Shrewsbury best, 
 And best by Him belov'd ? To Thee, fair Matron ! 
 The warm debate I bring and soft recital 
 Of constant Passion, and rewarded friendship. 
 Weak the Performance haply, yet the work 
 Beneath Thy feet I lay ; and bless'd in this, 
 As Thou good Princess, in each part of Life : 
 That I but a£t what Thy great Lord commands. 
 
 As Dorset's smile benign, and fair Example, 
 In pleasing Rhime indulg'd my Infant Years ; 
 (O be his Memory ever wept and Honor'd !) 
 May Shrewsbury's will prescribe my Elder Muse 
 A difPrent course, Great, bounteous Adelida ! 
 Be Thou my Friend, my gentle Intercessor, 
 That thy great Lord with his Illustrious Name 
 May shield the Goddess from the Darts of Censure 
 Unwounded, and assure her future flight 
 With equal favour and successive goodness. 
 
 How e'er again reflecting, She must blame 
 Her own Ambition, that with vain Attempt 
 Wou'd bring Thee [a]ught from Paris or from Rome, 
 Transfer'd and Habited in English dress : 
 When Thou, great Mistress! in Italian sounds, 
 Canst breathe Thy thought, not Petrarch's Laura sweeter: 
 When thou in Gallic Style can well indite, 
 So well, the famous Scudery's learned Sister. 
 Or Faber's Daughter might attentive learn. 
 Yet Thou hast right, fair Dame, to claim the Song 
 In British sounds; amongst her best lov'd daughters 
 Britannia Numbers Thee, by Twofold Title 
 To her endear'd: Partner of Talbots bed, 
 And right descended from the race of Dudley. 
 And well hast Thou with correspondent Grace 
 Answer'd thy gentle Mother's Love endearing, 
 To form her Accents, and to speak her language : 
 In Womanhood, industrious to Reclaim 
 By Study and by Art the legal Portion 
 
 340 

 
 POEMS FROM LONGLEAT MSS. 
 
 Which Fortune to Thy Infancy deny'd. 
 
 And well hast Thou Achiev'd the Task; Thy care 
 
 By subtil Mem'ory aided ; and Thy Lessons, 
 
 Pradis'd with Wit, and perfected by Judgment. 
 
 But Love, fair Dame (and Thou with Pride may'st own 
 
 The grateful Impulse) constant o'er Thy toyle 
 
 Presided ; Well we learn, when He is Master. 
 
 Not harsh, I hope fair Judge thou wilt avow 
 The British tongue, tho sometimes charg'd with words 
 Saxon and Danish, when the Manly Sounds 
 Break from the Potent lipps of Finch or Harcourt. 
 Our Language, semblant to our Native Streams, 
 O'er little Flints and scatter'd Pebbles rolling 
 Its curled Wave, unequal not unpleasing 
 The Surface. But, O Mercury! O Venus! 
 (For I attest You Both) when the fair Sex, 
 When Buckingham, or Grafton, (kind comperes 
 And faithful Friends to that Illustrious Dame 
 Who claims my Song) when They (or beauteous Cloe 
 My Hope, my Joy,) emit their Natal Sound; 
 Softer than Down from Venus fav'rite birds, 
 Or flakes of feather'd Snow, the Accents fall ! 
 
 Exalt Thy Thought my Muse ! when our great 
 Sov'raign 
 Disparts Her comely Lipps, August Pronouncing 
 The Speech ; 'tis sweet as Morning fumes which rise 
 From Sharon's Rose ; grateful as Arabs gums, 
 By Caedar fir'd, and curling from the Altar: 
 Our Dread at Once and our Delight ! She guides 
 And charms the Senate ; from her silver voice 
 Pou'ring her fierce Forefather's diction, temper'd 
 With Heav'nly Mildness and Angelic Grace. 
 We then, disdainful of our Modern Rivals, 
 Provoke the Latian or the Greek ; resigning 
 But to the Sacred Hebrew. Agrippina, 
 Or great Andromache by Homer aided, 
 Speaks with less height, and Majesty of Style, 
 Than British Anna. With resembling Prevalence 
 Pleads Hester, and victorious Deborah Sings. 
 
 341
 
 MATTHEW PRIOR 
 
 Around the Throne the Nations to their Queen 
 Obedient stand, and bid Her Live for Even 
 
 Illustrious Patroness, excuse the Prelude, 
 And Thou Calliope begin the Song. 
 
 IN Florence heretofore (who knows not Florence 
 Beautiful Sov'raign of Etrurias Cities) 
 Liv'd Frederic from a Noble race Descended 
 With fair Revenues blest and large Estate. 
 His Years were just arriv'd to perfect Manhood 
 Well limb'd his Body and his Person comely 
 His Mind with all those open Virtues bright 
 Which an Indulgent Mothers previous Hope 
 Can figure for her best lov'd Infants Age. 
 Unmarri'd yet (his Marriage is my Story) 
 On Frederic therefore every Eye was cast 
 What e'er he did was Talk'd : he went or came 
 The public Care: The P: — the G... : 
 Illustrious Houses courted his Alliance 
 And every noble Virgin sighing wisht 
 Her Father might succeed, but O in vain 
 Propose the Parents, or the Daughters Hope : 
 Clitia, so Venus destins, must alone 
 Gain Frederic's Love; and Love must rule his Fortune. 
 Rich Young She was a Widow, of One Son 
 The Mother and the Tutoress : Frederic courts Her 
 Courts her but How ? With Presents, with Expence 
 Surpassing all his Rivals, of that sort 
 How many gather, where the prevalent charms 
 [At] once of Beauty and of Wealth Attract 
 From Homer's time to ours stand fair recorded. 
 The Tilt and Tournament, so Gallantry 
 Ancient allow'd, and Frederic well Excell'd 
 In Feats of Arms and Manly Exercises 
 Took up the Dance delightful : Clitia Seated 
 Sublime, commands the sports. Clitia's Device 
 Portray'd on Frederics Shield declares her Champion. 
 
 342
 
 POEMS FROM LONGLEAT MSS. 
 
 Music the splendid Ball and costly banquet 
 First fruits to hopeful Love by all his Zealots 
 OfFer'd employ the softer Hours of Night, 
 Queen of the Feast reigns Clitia, Clitia's Name, 
 Adorns the Song, and at her Health alone 
 Breathes the shrill Hautboy, and the Clarion sounds. 
 ****** 
 
 The Mem'ory of kind Frederic and good Clitia 
 They drink, and tell the Story of the Hawk. 
 
 She sigh'd she wept and gave the Year to Mourning 
 
 As Decency requir'd, but mighty Love 
 
 Had erst possess 'd her heart, that Monarch God 
 
 Admits no rival Pow'r, his Ardent flames 
 
 Dispel the little damps which sorrow casts 
 
 Upon the Soul, nor suffers others Tears 
 
 To fall adown the Cheek, but those alone 
 
 Which his Attendant Cares and fears create. 
 
 But where Necessity obliges, Patience 
 Lessens the 111, and grief is born away 
 Upon the wings of Time. 
 
 Not Snow melts faster on the craggy mount 
 The Alp, or Appen[n]ine, when Sol in Spring 
 Arising cheers the World, not Waves and winds 
 Subside more sudden, when great Neptune rears 
 His awful Trident, and commands a Calm 
 Then in one moment fell from Clitia's breast 
 The coldness of Disdain, the Widows Pride 
 And Prudery of the Sex. 
 
 Here since Great Maro dos not doubt to Sing 
 
 Cayeta Nurse to his eternal Hero 
 
 Let poor good Thestylis my Muse be mention'd 
 
 Not without praise : 
 
 Fresh Flowers upon her Grave were strew'd by Clitia's hand. 
 
 And on her Tombstone stand Engrav'd her Virtue 
 
 Gracious acknowledgments of faithful Service. 
 
 343
 
 MATTHEW PRIOR 
 
 and all that chain of mad expence 
 Whose extreme link is ruin, Lands are Sold 
 And Mortgages contracted, false Trustees 
 Greedy She Wins, and Frederick willing Loses. 
 
 And Faithless Stewards join to wrong the Master 
 
 and profit by those Negligences 
 Which 'twas their only Service to retrieve. 
 
 for not the Noble Matron 
 Whose Womb bore pensive Frederic lov'd him better 
 Then did old Thestylis whose breast had fed him. 
 
 as he now has fed 
 His darling Hawk, and in his Garden water'd 
 The Rose and Jess'mine or with careful hand 
 Propt the Figg-tree luxuriant from the danger 
 Of its own weight, or view'd 
 
 The little promise of his future Vintage cluster'd grapes 
 Half purple round the verdant Elm encircled 
 His little hopes of Vintage. 
 
 For better then my Self thee Thee I love 
 My Self how can I name having prefer'd 
 My Ease to Thine, having in Lux' and wealth 
 Securely slept, while Thou perchance hast Wak'd 
 With fear of Debts alarm'd and shame of want. 
 
 O to Thy Arms receive that Penitent 
 
 That never shal again repent of [ajught 
 
 But of too late Conversion O my Frederic 
 
 Mine wilt Thou be, receive Thy Clitia Thine 
 
 And be our next Endeavor join'd to save 
 
 The lingring life of him, .... 
 
 And Thou wilt grant I next to Thee shou'd Love 
 
 My Son. 
 
 344
 
 POEMS FROM LONGLEAT MSS. 
 
 Brouillon of a Poem 
 
 Begun at Wimpole in August 1721. 
 
 Transcribed from the Authors Papers 
 
 since his Death. 
 
 PREDESTINATION. 
 
 A POEM. 
 
 APOSTLES teach, and Holy books declare, 
 J\_ That 'tis in God we move, and live, and are : 
 In him we all begin, continue, end, 
 And all our A&ions on his help depend. 
 I therefore must eternally have laid 
 In Nothings bosom, and Oblivions shade, 
 Among existing Beings not confest, 
 (For nothing by no words can be exprest) 
 Unless obedient to his High command, 
 Call'd by his word, and Plastor'd by his hand, 
 And from his breath receiving Vital flame, 
 I had begun to be the thing I am. 
 
 Then the same pow'rfull, constant, heav'nly Aid 
 Must stil prese[r]ve the Creature it had made. 
 For shou'd that Aid one Moment be deny'd ; 
 Dissolv'd and lost, I shou'd again subside 
 Into the sad Negation where I lay, 
 Before I swell'd the Womb, or saw the Day. 
 
 Form'd by his Will, assisted by his Powr, 
 From the great period of my Native hour 
 Forward I hasten thro this path of life, 
 Nor with false pleasure smooth no violent Strife 
 Why was I then of my sole guide bereft ? 
 And why to errour and amazement left ? 
 
 345
 
 MATTHEW PRIOR 
 
 Collected to my self I sadly find 
 
 Ten thousand doubts divide my anxious mind. 
 
 The potent bias of my crooked will 
 
 I found averse to good, and prone to ill ; 
 
 Whence rises this depravity of thought 
 Was it from mine or my forefathers fault ? 
 Shal I descend and say that Death and Sin 
 Did from ill judging Adams crime begin 
 Or tracing them from springs perhaps too high 
 To good and 111 give Coeternity ? 
 
 Say did the Godhead infinitely wise 
 Create all good ? then whence did ill arise ? 
 Do two great Pow'rs their adverse strength employ 
 This to preserve, and t'other to Destroy ? 
 
 Wou'd God set free what Deemon cou'd enslave ? 
 Cou'd Sin annoy what Sanclity wou'd save ? 
 Of this no further Mortal man can know, 
 Than as from Scripture God has deign'd to show. 
 Here too we find the mighty Probleme laid 
 In Mystic darkness, and Prophetic shade : 
 Pen'd by the Poets rage and breast enlarg'd, 
 Adorn'd with Emblems, and with figures charg'd; 
 Form'd to the Lyre, and fitted to be Sung 
 To proper measures of the Hebrew Tongue j 
 By time corrupt, at first however pure ; 
 And by Translation render'd more obscure ; 
 By Sedts eluded, and by Scholes perplext, 
 Till in the Comment we involve the Text. 
 
 E'er Time was bid his measures to begin, 
 E'er Angels knew to praise, or man to sin, 
 (Say Austin's words transfer'd to Calvins school,) 
 God fix'd one firm unalterable rule. 
 The word was fated which th' Almighty spoke 
 Nor can his future Will that will revoke. 
 All things determin'd by this Solemn Doom, 
 And settled in the order they must come. 
 
 346
 
 POEMS FROM LONGLEAT MSS. 
 
 Seledt to pleasures, or condemn'd to pains ; 
 Man only Executes what God ordains. 
 Is God subservient to his own Decree ? 
 Is that Omnipotent which is not free ? 
 Providence then in her continual course 
 Must stil be stopt by some superior force : 
 Then upon strict enquiry will be found, 
 That God himself by his own Acl is bound ; 
 That in a like dependence, he and Man 
 Must own a Pow'r which neither can restrain ? 
 Then those Elecl by this eternal doom 
 Must have been Sav'd, th6 it had never come ; 
 And the reprov'd in vain for Mercy call 
 To him who came to free and save us All. 
 Vain therefore prudent thought, and previous care 
 Useless our Alms, and foolish is our Pray'r : 
 And with superfluous babling we have said, 
 "Give us this day our Father! dayly bread"; 
 If what we ask by fixt decree of Heav'n 
 Was giv'n before, or never can be giv'n. 
 
 Now what is Man ? a reas'nable Machine, 
 A puppet danc'd upon this Earthly Scene, 
 An instrument in Gods o'erbearing hand, 
 Mov'd by his Pow'r and fore'd by his command. 
 Cou'd destin'd Judas long before he fell 
 Avoid the terrors of a future Hell r 
 Cou'd Paul deny, resist, or not embrace 
 Obtruded Heav'n, and efficacious Grace ? 
 
 Yet is the great Apostle heard to say, 
 
 "Does not the Potters hand dispose the Clay ? 
 
 "And shal the Vase his makers Art upbraid, 
 
 "If or to honour or Destruction made ? " 
 
 'Tis true ; but view we then the different State 
 
 Of beings living and inanimate : 
 
 Incapable of Sense and void of mind, 
 
 The passive Vessel cou'd no pleasure find, 
 
 Tho plac'd above where Saints and Angels reign ; 
 
 And damn'd to Hell beneath, cou'd feel no Pain. 
 
 Nor in his adtion is that Agent free 
 
 347
 
 MATTHEW PRIOR 
 
 Who must fulfill immutable decree. 
 
 Allow we freedom to the whirling Stone, 
 
 Which in the Battel from the sling is thrown ? 
 
 Allow we freedom to the flying reed, 
 
 From the drawn Bow elanc'd with violent speed ? 
 
 If these attain, or if they lose their Aim, 
 
 Their rectitude or Error is the same : 
 
 Who blames their fault, or celebrates their fame ? 
 
 Now scale our Deeds and let the Plummet fall 
 
 Betwixt the senseless and the rational. 
 
 If Both alike by primitive decree 
 
 Are bound to A61, and if what is must be ; 
 
 For Slain Goliah to young Davids praise 
 
 Can we in justice greater triumph raise, 
 
 Than to the chosen Pebble, which he took 
 
 Among the thousand from the Neighb'ring brook ? 
 
 Or greater Crime impute to furious Saul, 
 
 Than to his Jav'elin struck against the Wall ? 
 
 Far other sure with Human Mind it fares 
 Now raised to pleasures now deprest with Cares. 
 
 Possess we not free liberty of Will 
 How are our Afts imbu'd with good or ill 
 Allow Gods promises and threatnings made 
 E'er the foundations of the World were laid ; 
 They were contingent, and conditional ; 
 From Adams Choice proceeded Adams fall. 
 By Cains free adtion Abells blood was spilt, 
 His Punishment must presuppose his Guilt. 
 And Abra'ms faith on Isaac doom'd to dye 
 Was founded on the Patriarchs piety. 
 When Judah breaks Jehovahs great command, 
 He turns his wrathful Viols on the land : 
 When of her Sins in Ashes she repents, 
 The weeping Priest attones and God relents. 
 Our Deed is form'd and guided by our thought, 
 And equal to our Duty or our fault. 
 By means however hid from human eyes 
 Gods future threatnings and his Mercy rise. 
 While yet we reconcile free Will to fates 
 To solve this doubt we greater doubts create : 
 
 
 
 348
 
 POEMS FROM LONGLEAT MSS. 
 
 That God regards the simple Adt alone, 
 Making Omnipotence by Prescience known ; 
 And leaves to Us by Impulse from within, 
 To Cloath that Adt with Duty, or with Sin. 
 
 But does he then his previous will suspend, 
 
 And does his Science on our Deed attend ? 
 
 If this way acting, we the sequel draw, 
 
 We acl as God permitted and foresaw : 
 
 But if our Ait be otherways employ 'd, 
 
 Is his permission and prevision voy'd ? 
 
 Has he, as human means may change the Scene, 
 
 In other guise permitted or foreseen ; 
 
 And left the Slacken'd Reins of Providence 
 
 To the mad guidance of our feeble sense ? 
 
 Say rather, that he Will'd what he foresaw ; 
 That his volition is his Creatures law : 
 For God (excuse the saying) cou'd not see 
 Contingences which never were to be. 
 And if they were to be, that very sight 
 Brought them from Nothing into future light 
 Permitting their Existence, fix'd their fate ; 
 And to forsee, was to Predestinate. 
 
 Well then Man Wills and from that Will proceed 
 The stains and Colours of his sinfull deed 
 The Son whom he destroy'd he might have sav'd 
 And freed the Captive whom his hand enslav'd. 
 
 As rolling down the Rocks the waters bring 
 The last and hue of their original spring ; 
 So from our Will, that fountain of our Deed, 
 The stains and Colours of our A6ls proceed. 
 
 Against Gods Spirit here we fight 
 
 Had leave to cho[o]se but wou'd not use it right 
 
 Our ill produc'd and we must suffer Woe 
 
 But had we merit or Perfection, No. 
 
 In vain You cite this Liberty of Will 
 
 Free to do good, but more inclin'd to ill. 
 
 349
 
 MATTHEW PRIOR 
 
 Almighty Lord the way, the door, [the] light, \ 
 
 O let me stil find favor in thy sight V 
 
 Excuse my going wrong or set me right. J 
 
 Soveraign ! great Three in One ! O God and Man ! 
 Who set those Measures which I dare not Scan ; 
 
 If I have leave to chuse, I beg that choice 
 
 Guided at least by thy Assistant Voice. 
 
 If I must pursue a Destin'd way 
 
 DirecT: my Footsteps for thou can'st not stray 
 
 From dang'rous doubts my wandering Soul retrieve 
 
 1 cannot Argue, grant me to believe ! 
 Lifeless I lay, thou wak'st me into Sense ; 
 Frailty is mine, and Thine Omnipotence. 
 
 Dare we reply or frighted stand we Mute 
 Shall Man, assertion dire ! to God impute 
 Or Ignorance, or Mutability, 
 Or want of Pow'r to finish his Decree ? 
 
 While God does in his hand Sustain 
 This last great Link of this eternal Chain. 
 
 
 
 So run the close Meanders of our mind 
 
 By this first Cause stil secretly inclin'd 
 
 This guidance of our thought 
 To this high power be brought 
 and backward we must run 
 To that high Origin where all begun. 
 
 Nor can we justly say that we Possess 
 
 A Will which we can Govern as we please. 
 
 Who reasons thus his sense in terms confounds 
 Speaks one Idea in two different sounds. 
 
 Before we grant or Answer let us bring 
 Our pow'r of thinking to its pristin spring. 
 
 Trace we this Thought to its Original 
 Let Heav'n be justify'd in Adams fall. 
 
 350
 
 POEMS FROM LONGLEAT MSS. 
 
 All was settl'd by Gods primeval Will. 
 
 Nor do I ask whence Sin came, but it was such that to 
 Save the World from it the Son of God must Dye. 
 
 Could the Heathen by the dictates of Nature obtain Salva- 
 tion, where was the necessity of Christs coming, and if they 
 could not, how happens it that they were not called to pertake 
 the benefit of His passion. 
 
 Nor matters it that God gave a free Will to Man since by 
 his Prescience he had ordered that Man could not employ that 
 free will otherwise then he had forseen Man should employ it. 
 
 If we had not freedom of Will there would be neither 
 Good or ill in our Adtions. There would be no occasion for 
 a Judgement, nor Punishment, nor reward. 
 
 Now if we have not Liberty of Will 
 
 How are our Deeds imbu'd with good or ill. 
 
 is it in Our Choice 
 To love or hate to weep or to rejoice ? 
 Are not the Texture of our Actions wrought 
 By something inward that directs our thought 
 And we perceive delight and suffer pain 
 Which we can neither quicken nor restrain ? 
 
 Now change the Scene my friends & let us see 
 How are our Actions & our Motions free. 
 
 Whence else a Dying Saviors grief & fame 
 
 And dire Convulsion of this general frame 
 
 That shook the Earth, made frighted Nature groan. 
 
 And the great Fathers will that must be done. 
 
 some middle means 
 Which Man but hardly comprehends 
 and let us see 
 How destin'd Sentence and free Will agree. 
 
 That with spontaneous Liberty we move 
 In vain the adverse Sect desires to prove 
 From inward Power and Nature of the Soul 
 Which Natures God can alter or controll. 
 
 351
 
 MATTHEW PRIOR 
 
 If God does Universal Vows reje£l 
 
 Or only justifys his own ElecT: 
 
 Or those in Climes remote who never heard 
 
 His Word reveal'd are from his Anger Spar'd. 
 
 By time and Age its Notions are disrang'd 
 By passions short and by distemper chang'd 
 Nor let us vaunting fancy we are free 
 That we can mend or alter Heavn's decree. 
 
 Or with our little Arms go up to fight 
 
 With Omnipresence & with Infinite 
 
 Our Operations by his Will were wrought 
 
 And when he gave he fixt the Pow'r of thought. 
 
 All matters particles, all Motions laws, 
 
 Cou'd not produce so great a Second cause. 
 
 Attorns, how ever sep'rate or combin'd, 
 
 Cou'd not compose or animate the mind. 
 
 That with spontaneous Liberty we move, 
 
 In vain the adverse sedt desires to prove, 
 
 From inward Pow'r and Nature of the Soul 
 
 Which Natures God can alter or controll. 
 
 Earth cou'd not form it then from heav'n it came 
 
 A part it self of the Celestial flame 
 
 Let Christians sanclify the Heathen chain 
 
 And that Prometheus which their Poets feign 
 
 Was Gods great Spirit enlight'ning passive Earth 
 
 And kindling Human action into birth 
 
 If then its vigor from Heav'n proceed 
 
 By Heav'n its force and measure is decreed 
 
 That First who did this Second cause produce 
 
 Proportions it to each recipients use 
 
 Tis Sisyphus' Stone returning stil 
 
 If God who gave the freedom form'd the Will 
 
 To form it and incline it was the same 
 
 You grant the thing while you dispute the Name. 
 
 As running Streams their parted Waters spread 
 Adown the hill or thro the flow'ry Mead 
 Here rising bold and Turbulent in waves 
 There sunk in Sand or sunk in Rocky Caves 
 
 
 
 352
 
 POEMS FROM LONGLEAT MSS. 
 
 The human Eye may still collect and bring 
 To their first Murmur and Original spring: 
 So from the various action of our mind 
 To pleasure better or to grief enclin'd 
 Glitt'ring in Courts and shining bright in Arms 
 Fond of Mans praises & of Womans charms 
 Or flying Crowds desiring more to dwel 
 In the thick Woods or Melancholy Cell. 
 
 Pursue this Search to its Original : 
 
 Allowing Heav'ns Decree and Adams fall 
 
 A new Alliance and firm Covenant made 
 
 By God to be requir'd, by Man Obey'd: 
 
 Faith and Repentance on the Mortal side 
 
 The two great knots by which the Bond is ty'd 
 
 And on the part of God the human race 
 
 Assisting Mercy and preventing Grace. 
 
 Yet how can we believe or how repent 
 
 Unless the influence first from Heav'n is sent ? 
 
 Strong the Condition to our bounded view 
 
 Contracted seemingly and sign'd by Two 
 
 To perfect which unable one attends 
 
 While t'other furnishes the Total means. 
 
 Again whilst Grace is Gods immediate Gift 
 
 To Heav'n in vain my Voice and heart I lift 
 
 To ask th' Almighty's Tutelary Care 
 
 Except this Grace prevents my very Prayer. 
 
 Now of this Gift if once I stand posses't 
 
 Yee Angels am I not for ever blest ? 
 
 Tell me can Satan take what God has giv'n 
 
 Or all Hells darkness quench the light of Heav'n ? 
 
 What after this do I implore or Crave 
 
 And need I ask what I already have? 
 
 What light of Comment can these Clouds remove 
 
 Backward and forward I uncertain rove 
 
 Thro Labyrinths wander and in Circles prove 
 
 If the Creator call'd me forth to birth 
 
 Wou'd he, I ask, his helpless Creature leave 
 
 Thus wand'ring dark, thus groveling low on Earth 
 
 That I might Sin, he punish or forgive. 
 
 p. ii. z 353
 
 MATTHEW PRIOR 
 
 Before we Grant or Answer let us bring 
 Our pow'r of Thought to its primaeval spring. 
 
 The deep decrees the fatalist replyes 
 Of an eternal God supremely Wise 
 As firmly fixt are permanently sure 
 Thro endless chains of Ages shal endure. 
 Made before heav'n and Earth the word shal last 
 Unchangeable when heav'n and Earth are past. 
 Allow free will that Sentence is destroy'd 
 A Covenant Seal'd which after A6ts may void 
 A Casual Fabric built upon the sand 
 Which can nor winds nor falling rains withstand 
 But yields inflex'd and sapp'd by human pray'rs 
 Blown down with Sighs and wash'd away by tears. 
 
 Or trace your steps thro the determin'd way 
 Or from the Christian Principles You stray 
 The Godhead tho with all perfeclion crown'd 
 Inclin'd to Mercy is by justice bound 
 Else whence the wond'rous kind necessity 
 That to Absolve poor Adam Christ must Dye 
 Whence the old stains imprest on human race "| 
 
 The heav'nly means that must those stains efface 
 And Nature lost redeem'd by saving Grace. 
 
 Hence the long Series of Events to come 
 And four Monarchic Empires stated doom 
 Else future knowledge of Three thousand Years 
 The Psalmists raptures and the Prophets tears 
 The unveil'd Mysteries to a world restor'd 
 Forseen by Angels and by Men ador'd; 
 Hence the great Object of our future hope 
 And blessings following in that bitter Cup 
 Which God incarnate loving and belov'd 
 How'ever yielding beg'd might be remov'd 
 When prest with Agonies the suffering Son 
 Said Father not my will but Thine be done. 
 
 354
 
 POEMS FROM LONGLEAT MSS. 
 
 [Fragment from Britanicus.~\ 
 
 WHO would prevail o'er Men must first Observe 
 Their Darling passion of their hearts, and thence 
 Govern their Ductile reason, in Britanicus 
 The power of Love prevails the Dazl'd Lover. 
 
 To the Horse of Henry the Fourth 
 
 of France. 
 
 PETIT Cheval, gentil Cheval 
 Propre a monter, propre a descendre 
 Tu n'es pas grand comme Bucephale 
 Tu porte plus que l'Alexandre. 
 
 To a Lady, given with a Nosegay. 
 
 SOUVIENS Toy, Cloe, du destin 
 De ces fleurs si fraiches si belles 
 Elles ne durent qu'un matin 
 Comme Elles vous brillez, vous passerez comme Elles. 
 
 To Cloe. 
 
 THERE'S all Hell in her Heart, and all Heaven in her eye 
 He that sees her must love, he that loves her must Dye. 
 
 Epigram. 
 
 MY Lord there's a Christ'ning the Officer said, 
 The Gossips are ready, the Cushions are laid : 
 What, without my leave ask'd I said the Prelate inflam'd 
 Go lock up My Font, let the Infant be damn'd. 
 
 z 2 355
 
 MATTHEW PRIOR 
 
 Translation of an Epitaph upon 
 
 Gilbert Glanville Bishop of Ro- 
 chester as written in Rochester 
 Cathedral. 
 
 GILBERTUS Glanville whose heart was as hard as an 
 Anvil 
 Always litigious who shou'd have been highly religious 
 Full fraught with Law suits he to that Court aptly descended 
 Where quiet appears not, and quarrels never are ended. 
 
 From RonsarcTs Franciade 
 
 Book the IVth Folio 465. 
 
 ON yonder Guilty Plain, long Seasons hence 
 Perhaps a thousand Years, Helmets and Shields, 
 And plated harnois shal be found, sad marks 
 Of memorable War, with sudden wonder 
 Appal'd the Villager lab'ring the Glebe 
 Shal hear his Plow-Share crash on buried Armour, 
 And throw up bones of Horses slain in Battle. 
 
 [Fragments in Prose and Verse.] 
 
 WHO e'er forsakes Old Mother Church 
 And of new Doctrines makes profession 
 Will find himself soon left ith Lurch 
 Or cited to the Quarter Session. 
 
 I learn to think no Precept strange 
 
 That Convocation can propose 
 Nor ever wish nor seek for change 
 
 Except in Mistresses & Cloaths. 
 
 356
 
 POEMS FROM LONGLEAT MSS. 
 
 A less desert may gain a People's trust 
 
 But Thou and Aristides were too just 
 
 And whilst Thy Mind had ev'rywhere its Home 
 
 They were most banish'd who were nearest Rome. 
 
 Like a true Irish Marlin that misses her flight 
 Little Nanny sat Pensive & Sullen all night, 
 The Jack-Daw escap'd her, the loss was not great, 
 She may yet take a Woodcock, & that's better meat. 
 
 The God of Love was but a Boy 
 
 What Amrous Cares did P[s]yches Mind employ 
 
 And yet the God of Love was but a Boy. 
 
 Even Chast Diana mindless of her way 
 Stop'd on the hill where Young Endymion lay 
 Lay by the Stream or Slumber'd in the Wood 
 And rose next Day as late as e'er She cou'd. 
 Diana too forsoo[k] her other Cares 
 To teach Endymion to Observe the Stars 
 Stopt on the Mountain where the Lover lay 
 And rose But very little before Day. 
 
 Early in Life We learn the Mighty Rule 
 Taught by Old Bess the Foundress of our School 
 Neither to Flatt'ry, nor to Frowns to bend 
 To Scorn our Foe, but Dye to Serve our Friend. 
 
 The same Man in Place and at Court or turned out and 
 removed from thence has a different way of Voting and speak- 
 ing, as some Pictures that in another Light she[w] a quite 
 different figure. On one side it is a Pope, on the other side a 
 Devil, here it is a Magistrate, and there a Monkey. 
 
 Everybody Commends Modesty, Few Practice it, and None 
 get by it. 
 
 357
 
 MATTHEW PRIOR 
 
 We often yield to Importunity, and do good to those who 
 do not Deserve it, meerly for our own Ease. This kind of 
 Generosity is at best Blameable, and shews Us rather the Weak- 
 ness of our Tempers than the goodness of Our Inclinations. 
 
 Regards no Judges Frown, nor Courtiers fawn 
 Contemns the Knave tho hid in Furrs or Lawn 
 Not covetous of Praise nor fearing blame 
 With Honour Dyes, but will not live with Shame. 
 
 A£t Honestly however blam'd 
 And rather Dye than be asham'd. 
 
 Broghil did Cowleys thankful Muse commend 
 And is not Broghils Grandson Prior's Friend ? 
 Roscommons Verse indulg'd poor Drydens Pride 
 While to the Patrons Voice the Bard reply'd. 
 Roscommon writes to that unerring Hand 
 Muse — slay the Bull that spurns the yellow sand. 
 Sheffield great Buckingham Illustrious Name 
 Old in Policy and in Civil Fame 
 Transferr'd his Lawrel to his Pupil Pope 
 The Patrons goodness pass'd the Poets hope. 
 
 Let Reason then her Arts imploy 
 
 Let her convince Thee doubtful Maid 
 
 That Venus is the Queen of Joy 
 And Thou art gentle when Obey'd. 
 
 Let reason therefore leave the breast 
 Which vainly we wou'd Strive to hold 
 
 And try his strength in Caelia's breast 
 Severe and disengaged and Cold. 
 
 There bid her all her Arts imploy 
 And showing Thy eternal Slave 
 
 Convince her Victors may destroy 
 But Legal Sov'raigns always save. 
 
 35«
 
 POEMS FROM LONGLEAT MSS. 
 
 Thou arm'st thy Self in Cslias Eyes 
 
 Great Love when reason wou'd rebel 1 
 And ev'ry time I dare be wise 
 
 Thy rage more terrible I feel. 
 Repeated thoughts present the ill 
 
 Which seeing I must stil endure 
 They tell me Thou hast Darts to kill 
 And Wisdom has no Pow'r to Cure. 
 Avails it [ajught to see the 111 
 
 Which seeing I must stil endure 
 To know that Love has Darts to kill 
 
 While Wisdom wants the Pow'r to Cure. 
 
 O Dear to God and Man O Prince approv'd 
 And try'd by Heav'n, by Earth Confest and lov'd 
 Oh for our good Ascend thy Native Seat : 
 In Thee let Judah once again be great. 
 Let the glad Oyle from thy Anointed head, 
 Upon a bleeding Nation's wounds be Shed, 
 Pardon & Rule, let kindness grace thy Pow'r 
 The Throne on Mercy founded Stands Secure. 
 
 Son 
 
 g- 
 
 ET Us my Dear my life be Friends 
 Forget all fears and troubles past 
 Our Pleasure on this Hour depends, 
 And hence for ever may it last. 
 
 Stil to improve each opening Day 
 
 Be all our future thought imploy'd 
 And let our Faithful Tombstone say 
 
 That we liv'd, & lov'd, and Joy'd. 
 
 Nor more e'er let our Tombstone say 
 
 Then that we Liv'd, and lov'd, & Joy'd. 
 
 Since all indeed was done by Fate 
 
 We vainly of the Events complain 
 Our Sorrows why Shou'd we relate 
 
 If Mem'ory but renews the Pain r 
 
 359
 
 MATTHEW PRIOR 
 
 Those ills that were before too great 
 We stil augment whilst we complain 
 
 Our Sorrows why shou'd we relate 
 If Memory but renews the Pain. 
 
 Mankind whose various Aclion strives 
 Each others blessing to destroy 
 
 Wou'd smile malicious if our Lives 
 Knew any Interval of Joy. 
 
 Jinny the Just] 
 
 RELEAS'D from the noise of the Butcher and Baker 
 Who, my old Friends be thanked, did seldom forsake her 
 And from the soft Duns of my Landlord the Quaker 
 
 From chiding the Footmen and watching the Lasses, 
 From Nell that burn'd Milk, and Tom that broke Glasses 
 (Sad mischiefs thro which a good housekeeper passes !) 
 
 From some real Care but more fancy'd vexation 
 From a life party Colour'd half reason half passion 
 Here lies after all the best Wench in the Nation 
 
 From the Rhine to the Po, from the Thames to the Rhone 
 
 Joanna or Janneton, Jinny or Joan 
 
 Twas all one to her by what name She was known 
 
 For the Idiom of words very little She heeded 
 
 Provided the Matter She drove at succeeded 
 
 She took and gave Languages just as She needed 
 
 So for Kitching and Market, for bargain & Sale 
 
 She paid English or Dutch or french down on the Nail 
 
 But in telling a Story she sometimes did fail 
 
 Then begging Excuse as She happen'd to Stammer 
 With respett to her betters but none to her Grammer 
 Her blush helpt her out and her Jargon became her 
 
 360 

 
 POEMS FROM LONGLEAT MSS. 
 
 Her Habit and Mcin she entleavor'd to frame 
 
 To the different Gout of the place where She came 
 
 Her outside stil chang'd, but her inside the same 
 
 At the Hague in her Slippers & hair as the Mode is 
 
 At Paris all Falbalow'd fine as a Goddess 
 
 And at censuring London in smock sleeves and Bodice 
 
 She order'd Affairs that few People cou'd tell 
 In what part about her that mixture did dwell 
 Of V rough or Mistress, or Medemoiselle 
 
 For her Sirname and race let the Heraults e'en Answer 
 Her own proper worth was enough to advance her 
 And he who lik'd her, little valu'd her Grandsire. 
 
 But from what House so ever her lineage may come 
 I wish my own Jinny but out of her Tomb, 
 Tho all her Relations were there in her Room 
 
 Of such terrible beauty She never cou'd boast 
 
 As with absolute Sway o'er all hearts rules the roast 
 
 When J — bawls out to the Chair for a Toast 
 
 But of good Household Features her Person was made 
 Nor by Faction cry'd up nor of Censure afraid 
 And her beauty was rather for Use than Parade 
 
 Her Blood so well mix't and flesh so well Pasted 
 
 That tho her Youth faded her Comliness lasted 
 
 The blew was wore off but the Plum was well tasted 
 
 Less smooth then her Skin and less white than her breast 
 Was this pollisht stone beneath which she lyes prest 
 Stop, Reader and Sigh while thou thinkst on the rest. 
 
 With a just trim of Virtue her Soul was endu'd 
 
 Not affectedly Pious nor secretly lewd 
 
 She cut even between the Cocquet and the Prude. 
 
 Her Will with her Duty so equally stood 
 That seldom oppos'd She was commonly good 
 And did pritty well, doing just what she wou'd. 
 
 361
 
 MATTHEW PRIOR 
 
 Declining all Pow'r she found means to perswade 
 Was then most regarded when most she Obey'd 
 The Mistress in truth when she seem'd but the Maid 
 
 Such care of her own proper Actions She took 
 That on other folks lives She had no time to look 
 So Censure and Praise were struck out of her Book 
 
 Her thought stil confin'd to its own little Sphere 
 She minded not who did Excell or did Err 
 But just as the matter related to her 
 
 Then too when her Private Tribunal was rear'd 
 
 Her Mercy so mix'd with her judgment appear'd 
 
 That her Foes were condemn'd & her friends always clear'd 
 
 Her Religion so well with her learning did suite 
 That in Practice sincere, and in Controverse Mute 
 She shew'd She knew better to live then dispute 
 
 Some parts of the Bible by heart She recited 
 
 And much in historical Chapters delighted 
 
 But in points about Faith She was something short sighted 
 
 So Notions and modes She refer'd to the Schools 
 And in matters of Conscience adher'd to Two Rules 
 To advise with no Biggots, and jest with no Fools 
 
 And scrupling but little, enough she believ'd 
 
 By Charity ample smal sins She retriev'd 
 
 And when she had New Cloaths She always receiv'd 
 
 Thus stil whilst her Morning unseen fled away 
 
 In ord'ring the Linnen and making the Tea 
 
 That she scarce cou'd have time for the Psalms of the Day 
 
 And while after Dinner the Night came so soon 
 That half she propos'd very seldom was done 
 With twenty god bless Me's how this day is gone 
 
 While she read and Accounted & payd & abated 
 
 Eat and drank, Play'd & Work't, laught Si Cry'd, lov'd & hated, 
 
 As answer'd the end of her being Created. 
 
 362
 
 POEMS FROM LONGLEAT MSS. 
 
 In the midst of her Age came a cruel Desease 
 Which neither her Juhps nor recepts cou'd appease 
 So down dropt her Clay, may her Soul be at peace 
 
 Retire from this Sepulchre all the Prophane 
 
 You that love for Debauch or that marry for gain 
 
 Retire least Ye trouble the Manes of J 
 
 But Thou that know'st Love above Intrest or lust 
 Strew the Myrtle and Rose on this once belov'd Dust 
 And shed one pious tear upon Jinny the Just 
 
 Tread soft on her Grave, and do right to her honor 
 Let neither rude hand nor ill Tongue light upon her 
 Do all the smal Favors that now can be done her 
 
 And when what Thou lik't shal return to her Clay 
 For so I'm perswaded she must do one Day 
 What ever fantastic ].... Asgil may say 
 
 When as I have done now, thou shalt set up a Stone 
 For something however distinguisht or known 
 May some Pious Friend the Misfortune bemoan 
 And make thy Concern by reflexion his own. 
 
 3&3
 
 MATTHEW PRIOR 
 
 FRAGMENTS FROM PRIOR'S 
 LETTERS, ETC. 
 
 FROM A LETTER TO THE EARL OF 
 DORSET. 
 
 Hague l± May, 94. 
 
 SPARE Dorsett's sacred life, decerning fate, 
 And death shall march thro' courts and camps in state, 
 Emptying his quiver on the vulgar great ; 
 Round Dorsett's board lett peace and plenty dance, ] 
 
 Far off lett famine her sad reign advance, J- 
 
 And war walk deep in blood thro' conquered France. 
 Apollo thus began the mystic strain, 
 The muses' sons all bow'd and sayd Amen. 
 
 ON THE DEATH OF QUEEN MARY. 
 
 From the Lexington Papers, 1851. 
 
 In a Letter from Prior to Lord and Lady Lexington, 
 
 1 March, 1695. 
 
 'Written on Scheveling Sands, with the point of my sword.' 
 
 NUMBER the sands extended here ; 
 So many Mary's virtues were : 
 Number the drops that yonder roll ; 
 So many griefs press William's soul. 
 
 WRITTEN IN THE LIBRARY, 
 [Wimpole] Dec. 2, 1720. M.P. 
 
 FAME counting thy books, my dear Harley, shall tell, 
 No man had so many and knew them so well. 
 
 3 6 4
 
 APPENDIX 
 POEMS ATTRIBUTED TO PRIOR. 
 
 i An Answer to the Curious Maid 
 
 2 The Lyon and the Fox 
 
 3 An Epistle from the Eleflor of Bavaria 
 
 4 Apology to a Lady .... 
 
 5 Against Modesty in Love . 
 
 6 On a Young Lady's going to Town . 
 
 7 When the Cat's away 
 
 8 A Fable of the Widow and her Cat . 
 
 9 A Paraphrase on the French 
 
 PAGE 
 
 366 
 368 
 37o 
 378 
 378 
 
 379 
 380 
 382 
 384 
 
 i^S
 
 MATTHEW PRIOR 
 
 AN I 
 
 ANSWER I 
 
 TO THE 
 Curious MAID. II 
 
 A TALE. I 
 
 To Cloe'i Lap all Men must yield ; 
 Against this Part there is no shield. 
 
 Late Miscel. 
 
 THY Muse, O Bard ! that Wonders tell, 
 Fair CLOE's Charms Below Reveals ; 
 The Blissful Seat all Men Adore, 
 When felt ; when seen, that strikes no more : 
 Tho' thus thy Muse Displays the Place, 
 Full oft Review'd in Shining Glass ; 
 Yet still Negletts thy vent'rous Lyre, 
 The Greatest Joys which Youths inspire. 
 
 As LaFrors in the Oozy Mine^ 
 Must deep Descend, (as Lakes of Brine) 
 In Caverns dark, thro' Veins below, 
 Thro' Mazes, Turnings, Windings go, 
 Earth's Treasures far beneath unbind, 
 The Gold and Silver Oar to find ; 
 So must each Swain his Courage prove. 
 Within, to seek the Joys of Love. 
 
 When Ships at Sea, in Storms are tost y 
 By furious Gales in Tempest lost j 
 When foaming Waves disturb the Main ; 
 Below the Waters move Serene ; 
 Thus Rufto view tho' CLOEs Pride, 
 JVithin the greatest Charms reside. 
 
 3 66
 
 POEMS ATTRIBUTED TO PRIOR 
 
 'Tis no One Toy that wins the Swain, 
 That gives to Youthful DAMON Pain ; 
 The Eyes like Stars, and shining Hair, 
 The globous Breasts our Youths Ensnare ; 
 Fine Ivory Limbs conceal'd, Surprize ; 
 The Vale, and Mount, and Snowy Thighs, 
 Of Beauteous CLOE ne'er employ'd 
 In Love, nor Ever Once Enjoy d ; 
 He's more than Man that These can view, 
 And not the Game of Love persuc-. 
 
 When panting Breast to Breast is join'd, 
 We Feast on Raptures unconfin'd, 
 Vast and Luxuriant, such as prove, 
 The Immortality of Love. 
 
 Love's Pallace fills each Breast with Fire, 
 This Damon moves with strong Desire : 
 As Lillies fair the Banks adorn, 
 And Fiolets in the Bosom worn ; 
 As near some purling Streams are seen, 
 The spreading Boughs of Willow Green ; 
 As Trees that grace the verdant Plain, 
 And Hills compleat the Rural Scene ; 
 As Noble Mansions furnish' 'd round, 
 With Hangings fair and Fringe abound ; 
 So CLOE gay has powerful Charms, 
 To set off what the Lover warms. 
 
 No single Joy the Swain excites, 
 'Tis All the Female that invites ; 
 Her Sense, her Wit, her Beauties all, 
 By which the Youthful Lovers fall. 
 
 As Warriors in the Martial Field, 
 Make stubborn Foes to Conduct yield ; 
 By various Arts and Toils prevail, 
 When Canons loud and Mortars fail ; 
 Thus when their Charms Below are vain, 
 By others Females Conquest gain. 
 
 FINIS. 
 
 367
 
 3 68 
 
 MATTHEW PRIOR 
 THE 
 
 LYON 
 
 AND THE 
 
 FOX. 
 
 A LYON by his valiant Deeds preferr'd, 
 Was made the shepherd of a stately Herd ; 
 And carefully defends his Flock from Foes, 
 Tho' pow'rful Enemies their Peace oppose ; 
 And they who offer any Injury 
 Soon feel his Fury and are sure to die ; 
 The Trust he bore he did so well discharge, 
 His Mistress daily did his Pow'r enlarge : 
 For each good Deed She bore so much regard, 
 That each great Act ne'er mist a great Reward. 
 
 Whilst he abroad thus serviceable were, 
 
 Reynard at Home did no less Glory share 
 
 With Prudence manag'd mysticlc State Affairs, 
 
 As skill'd in them as th' other was in Wars. 
 
 He with such Faithfulness discharg'd his Trust, 
 
 Esteem'd by all to be both Wise and Just ; 
 
 And in his Service so successful Prov'd, 
 
 His Mistress Him next to the Lyon lov'd : 
 
 Which when the Lyon saw he angry grew 
 
 Being now grown Great he was grown haughty too. 
 
 A Partner in Glory he wou'd not allow, 
 
 And strives to work the Fox's overthrow. 
 
 As wicked Men do never want pretence, 
 
 When they wou'd wrong unspotted Innocence. 
 
 So He wou'd Treason lay upon his Head, 
 
 And make him bleed for what another did : 
 
 He wou'd against all Reason and all Laws, 
 
 First have him flea'd, and then he'd tell the Cause.
 
 POEMS ATTRIBUTED TO PRIOR 
 
 The Fox had Truth and Justice on his side, 
 And all his Aclions this base Deed denied. 
 He soon his former Lustre did regain, 
 And wipes away the Lyons Fatal stain : 
 He patiently puts up the Injury ; 
 But in a proper time reveng'd will be. 
 The haughty Lyon now was grown so great, 
 He ne'er expected any Change of State : 
 And the Allowance that his Mistress gave, 
 He thought too little, He still more wou'd have ; 
 And watchful Reynard by his Subtilty, 
 Did soon perceive the Lyons Roguery ; 
 Informs his Mistress, that what She allows 
 He on himself, not on Her Flock bestows, 
 Which He not only said, but prov'd it too, 
 And justly did procure his Overthrow. 
 
 THE MORAL. 
 
 A Man in Pow'r shou'd always cautious be 
 In off'ring any one an Injury ; 
 Lest fickle Fortune shou'd Reduce his State, 
 And bring him Low, and make the other Great 
 When of his help perhaps he'll stand in need, 
 If not, He's able to revenge the Deed. 
 
 FINIS. 
 
 p. ii. 
 
 AA 369
 
 MATTHEW PRIOR 
 
 An EPISTLE from the Elector of 
 bavaria to the french King, 
 after the Battle of Ramillies. 
 
 IF yet, great Sir, your heart can comfort know, 
 And the returning sighs less frequent flow ; 
 If yet your ear can suffer Anna's fame, 
 And bear, without a start, her Marlbro's name ; 
 If half the slain o'er wide Ramillia spread, 
 Are yet forgot, and in your fancy dead : 
 
 Attend, and be yourself, while I recite 
 (Oh ! that I only can of losses wri[t]e !) 
 To what a mighty sum our ills amount, 
 And give a faithful, tho' a sad account. 
 
 Let not Bavaria be condemn'd unheard, 
 Nor, 'till examin'd, have his conduct clear'd ; 
 Charge not on me alone that fatal day, 
 Your own commanders bore too great a sway. 
 Think ! Sir, with pity think ! what I have lost, 
 My native realms and my paternal coast, 
 All that a firm confed'rate could bestow, 
 Ev'n faith and fame, if you believe the foe. 
 Think what a heavy load o'erwhelms my breast, 
 With its own sorrows and with yours opprest ; 
 After one battle lost, and country gone, 
 Vanquish'd again, alas ! and twice undone. 
 
 Oh ! where shall I begin ? what language find 
 To heal the raging anguish of your mind ? 
 Or if you deign a willing ear to lend, 
 Oh ! where will my disastrous story end ? 
 
 Conquest I often promis'd, I confess, 
 And who from such a pow'r could promise less? 
 There Gallia's force, and here Bavaria's shines, 
 Th' experienc'd houshold fills our crowded lines ; 
 Already had our tow'ring thoughts o'er thrown 
 The Belgian host, while we survey'd our own, 
 
 370
 
 POEMS ATTRIBUTED TO PRIOR 
 
 Destroy'd their provinces with sword and flame, 
 
 Let in their seas, and sack'd their Amsterdam; 
 
 Already had we shar'd the fancy 'd spoil, 
 
 (Imaginary trophies crown'd our toil) 
 
 Bat avian standards at this temple gave, 
 
 In that the British crosses doom'd to wave, 
 
 A rural seat assign'd each captive chief, 
 
 In flow'ry gardens to assuage his grief, 
 
 And by his Arts, and first escape prepared, 
 
 On Marlbro had bestow'd a double guard. 
 
 Paris impatient for the conquer'd foe, 
 Hasten'd the tuneful hymn and solemn show ; 
 Triumphal chariots for the victor stay'd, 
 And finish'd arches cast a pompous shade ; 
 With nicest art the bards had dress'd their lays, 
 Of nothing fearful but to reach our praise ; 
 But all our hopes and expectation crost, 
 What lines have we ? what fame has Boileau lost ? 
 
 Your army now, fixt on its high designs, 
 Rush forth like vernal swarms, and quit their lines ; 
 Eager the Dy/e they pass to seek the fight, 
 Judoina's fields with sudden tents are white, 
 The foe descends, like torrents from the hills, 
 And all the neighb'ring vale tumultuous fills : 
 Preluding cannons tell th' approaching storm, 
 And working armies take a dreadful form. 
 
 Soon your victorious arms, and stronger force, 
 Tore all the left, and broke the Belgian horse ; 
 Their scatter'd troops are rally'd to the fight, 
 But only rally'd for a second flight : 
 As when high heav'n on some aspiring wood, 
 Which in close ranks, and thickest order stood, 
 Pours its collected stores of vengeance down, 
 Cedars are seen with firs and oaks o'erthrown, 
 Long ravages and intervals of waste ! 
 So gor'd their lines appear'd, and so defae'd. 
 The third attack had ended all the war, "j 
 
 Sunk their whole force, and sav'd your future care, - 
 
 Had Marlbro, only Marlbro, not been there. J 
 
 As some good genius flies, to save the realms 
 
 aa 2 371
 
 MATTHEW PRIOR 
 
 Which, in his absence born, a plague o'erwhelms, 
 Through op'ning squadrons did the hero haste, 
 And rais'd their drooping courage as he past. 
 
 Amidst the routed Belgians he arriv'd, 
 Turn'd the pursuit, the fainting fight reviv'd, 
 Supply'd each rank, fill'd ev'ry vacant space, 
 And brought the battle to its former face. 
 
 With trembling hearts we see our fate decreed ; 
 Where Marlbro fights how can a foe succeed? 
 To reach his life our boldest warriors strive, 
 On him the storm with all its thunder drive ; 
 He stems the war, and half encompass'd round 
 Still clears his way, and still maintains his ground : 
 Amaz'd I saw him in such dangers live, 
 And envy'd him the death I wish'd to give. 
 
 But how our rising pleasure shall I tell ? 
 The thund'ring steed, and the great rider, fell : 
 We thank'd kind heav'n, and hop'd the victor slain, 
 But all our hopes, and all our thanks were vain : 
 Free from the guilt of any hostile wound 
 Alive he lay, and dreadful on the ground. 
 
 As when a lion in the toils is cast, 
 That uncontroul'd had laid the country waste, 
 Th' insulting hinds surround him, who before 
 Fled from his haunts, and trembled at his roar ; 
 So round beset the mighty Briton lies, 
 And vulgar foes attempt the glorious prize. 
 'Till fresh battalions to his succour brought, 
 Contending armies for the hero fought ; 
 The wanted steed some friendly hand prepar'd, 
 And met a fatal, but a great, reward : 
 A glorious death ; of his lov'd lord bereft, 
 The pious office unperform'd he left. 
 
 The rescu'd chief, by the past danger warm'd, 
 Our weaken'd houshold with new fury storm'd : 
 While all around to our admiring eyes 
 Fresh foes, and undiscover'd squadrons, rise. 
 The boasted guards that spread your name so far, 
 And turn'd where-e'er they fought the doubtful war, 
 With heaps of slaughter strow'd the fatal plain, 
 
 37 2
 
 POEMS ATTRIBUTED TO PRIOR 
 
 And did a thousand glorious things in vain ; 
 
 Broke with unequal force such numbers die, 
 
 That I my self rejoic'd to see them fly. 
 
 But oh ! how few preserv'd themselves by flight ! 
 
 Or found a shelter from th' approaching night ! 
 
 Thousands fall undistinguish'd in the dark, 
 
 And five whole leagues with wide destruction mark. 
 
 Scarce at Ramillia did the slaughter end, 
 When the swift vidtor had approach'd Ostend ; 
 Took in whole states and countries in his way, 
 Brussels, nor Ghent, nor Antwerp gain'd a day ; 
 Within the compass of one circling moon, 
 The Lis, the Denier, and the Scheld his own. 
 What in the foe's, and what in lVilliam% hand, 
 Did for an age the power of France withstand ; 
 Tho' each campaign the crowded nations drain'd, 
 And the fat soil with blood of thousands stain'd ; 
 Those forts and provinces does Marlbro gain 
 In twice three suns, and not a soldier slain ; 
 None can suspend the fortune of their town, 
 But who their harvest and their country drown ; 
 CompelPd to call (his valour to evade) 
 The less destructive ocean to their aid. 
 
 Oh ! were our loss to F/andria's plains confin'd ! 
 But what a train of ills are still behind ? 
 Beyond the Adige Vendome feels the blow, 
 And Villars now retires without a foe, 
 The fate of Flanders spreads in Spain the flame, 
 And their new monarch robs of half his fame ; 
 But France shall hear in some late distant reign, 
 An unborn Lewis curse Ramillia\ plain. 
 
 Whither, oh ! whither shall Bavaria run ? 
 Or where himself, or where the viCtor shun ? 
 Shall I no more with vain ambition roam, 
 But my own subjects rule in peace at home ? 
 Thence an abandon'd fugitive I'm driv'n, 
 Like the first guilty man by angry heav'n 
 From his bless'd mansions, where th' avenging lord 
 Still guards the passage with a brandish'd sword, 
 Or shall I to Brabantiah Courts retire. 
 
 373
 
 MATTHEW PRIOR 
 
 And reign o'er distant provinces for hire ? 
 
 Shall I with borrow'd government dispense, 
 
 A royal servant and another's prince ? 
 
 These countries too (oh my hard fate !) are lost, 
 
 And I am banish'd from a foreign coast ; 
 
 Now may I fight secure of future toils, 
 
 Of no new countries a third battle spoils. 
 
 Oh, Tallard ! once I did thy chains deplore, 
 But envy now the fate I mourn'd before ; 
 By bondage bless'd, protected by the foe, 
 You live contented with one overthrow ; 
 Her captive, Britain kindly kept away 
 From the disgrace of the last fatal day. 
 
 How does my fall the haughty victor raise, 
 And join divided nations in his praise ; 
 Grateful Germania unknown titles frames, 
 And Churchill writes amongst her sov'reign names. 
 Part of her states obey a British lord, 
 Small part ! of the great empire he restor'd. 
 From the proud Spaniard he extorts applause, 
 And rivals with the Dutch their great Nassans. 
 In ev'ry language are his battles known, 
 The Swede and Pole for his, despise their own. 
 A thousand sects in him their safety place, 
 And our own saints are thank'd for our disgrace. 
 England alone, and that some pleasure gives, 
 Envies herself the blessings she receives. 
 
 My grief each place renews where-e'er I go, 
 And ev'ry art contributes to my woe ; 
 Ramillia's plain each painter's pencil yields, 
 Bavaria flies in all their canvas fields : 
 On me, young poets their rude lays indite, 
 And on my sorrows practise how to write ; 
 I in their scenes with borrow'd passion rage, 
 And aft a shameful part on ev'ry stage. 
 
 In Flandria will the tale be ever told, 
 Nor will it grow, with ever telling, old : 
 The lisping infants will their Marlbro raise, 
 And their new speech grow plainer in his praise ; 
 His story will employ their middle years, 
 
 374
 
 POEMS ATTRIBUTED TO PRIOR 
 
 And in their latest age recall their fears, 
 While to their children's children they relate 
 The business of a day, their country's fate : 
 Then lead them forth, their thoughts to entertain, 
 And shew the wond'ring youth RamiUia's plain ; 
 'Twas here they fought, the housbold fled that way, 
 And this the spot where Marlbro prostrate lay. 
 
 Here they, perhaps, shall add Bavarian name, 
 Censure his courage, and his conduct blame : 
 'Tis false, 'tis false, I did not basely yield, 
 I left indeed, but left a bloody field : 
 Believe not, future ages, ne'er believe 
 The vile aspersions which these wretches give ; 
 If you too far my injur'd honour try, 
 Take heed, my ghost, it will, it shall, be nigh, 
 Rise in his face, and give the slave the lie. 
 
 Why should the stars thus on Britannia smile, 
 And partial blessings crown the fav'rite isle ? 
 Holland does her for their great founder own ; 
 Britannia gave to Portugal a crown : 
 Twice by her queens does proud Iberia fall ; 
 Her Edwards and her Henrys conquer'd Gaul : 
 The Swede her arms from late oppression freed, 
 And if he dares oppress, will curb the Swede. 
 She, from herself, decides her neighbours fates, 
 Rescues by turns, by turns subdues their states ; 
 In the wide globe no part could nature stretch 
 Beyond her arms, and out of Britain's reach : 
 Who fear'd, she e'er could have Bavaria seen ? 
 Such realms, and kingdoms, hills, and seas between ? 
 Yet there, — oh sad remembrance of my woe ! 
 Distant Bavaria does her triumphs show. 
 Proud state ! must Europe lie at thy command, 
 No prince without thee rise, without thee stand ! 
 What share ? what part is thine of all the spoil ? 
 Thine only is the hazard and the toil. 
 An empire thou hast sav'd and all its states, 
 Iberia's realms have felt severer fates : 
 What wou'dst thou more ? still do thy arms advance ? 
 Heav'n knows what doom thou hast reserv'd for France ! 
 
 375
 
 MATTHEW PRIOR 
 
 From whose wise care does all the treasure rise, 
 That slaughter'd hosts and shatter'd fleets supplies ? 
 From whence such boundless conquest does she reap, 
 Purchas'd with all her boasted millions cheap ? 
 
 O bless'd ! oh envy'd Queen ! that does command 
 At such a time, in such a happy land ; 
 Great in her armies and her pow'rful fleet ! 
 Great in her treasures ! in her triumphs great ! 
 But greater still ! and what we envy most, 
 That can a Marlbro for her subject boast ! 
 
 Oh, Gallia ! from what splendors art thou hurl'd ! 
 The terror once of all the Western World ; 
 Thy spreading map each year did larger grow, 
 New mountains still did rise, new rivers flow ; 
 But now surrounded by thy ancient mounds, 
 Dost inward shrink, from thy new-conquer'd bounds. 
 Why did not nature, far from Marlbro's worth, 
 In distant ages bring her Louis forth ? 
 Each uncontroul'd had conquer'd worlds alone, 
 Happy ! for Europe, they together shone. 
 
 Cease ! Louis, cease ! from wars and slaughter cease ! 
 Oh ! sue at last, 'tis time to sue, for peace ! 
 Urge nor too far your twice unhappy fate, 
 Nor Marlbro's stronger arm confess too late : 
 Who never camps or rough encounters saw, 
 Can no just image of the hero draw : 
 He must, alas ! that Marlbro truly knows 
 Face him in battle, and whole armies lose. 
 Believe me, Sir, on my unwilling breast, 
 Fate has his virtues one by one imprest : 
 With what a force our Schellemberg he storm'd ! 
 And Blenheims battle with what conduct form'd ! 
 How great his vigilance ; how quick his thought ; 
 What his contempt of death, Ramillia taught. 
 These nature cool for peace and counsel forms, 
 For battle those with rage and fury warms ; 
 But to her fav'rite Britain does impart 
 The coolest head at once and warmest heart ; 
 So does Sicilians lofty mountains show 
 Flames in her bosom, on her head the snow. 
 
 376
 
 POEMS ATTRIBUTED TO PRIOR 
 
 My youth with flatt'ring smiles did Fortune crown, 
 The more severely on my age to frown ? 
 Of Pleasure's endless stores I drank my fill, 
 Officious Nature waited on my will ; 
 The Austrian rescu'd, and the Turk o'erthrown, 
 Europe and Asia fill'd with my renown : 
 Blasted are all my glories and my fame, 
 Lost is my country and illustrious name ; 
 The titles from their present lord are torn, 
 Which my great ancestors so long had borne ; 
 No native honours shall my offspring grace, 
 The last Elector with a num'rous race. 
 Half my unhappy subjects lost by wars, 
 The rest for a worse fate the viftor spares : 
 Were they for this entrusted to my care ? 
 This the reward the brave, the faithful share ? 
 My sons lament, in distant dungeons thrown, 
 Unafred crimes, and follies not their own ; 
 But oh ! my consort ! — my o'erflowing eyes 
 Gush forth with tears, and all my sorrows rise, 
 While the dear tender exile I bemoan ; 
 Oh royal bride ! oh daughter of a throne ! 
 Not thus I promis'd when I sought thy bed, 
 Thou didst the brave, the great Bavaria wed : 
 Curst be ambition ! curst the thirst of pow'r ! 
 And curst that once-lov'd title Emperor ! 
 
 Excuse, great Sir, the ravings of a mind, 
 That can so just a cause for sorrow find ; 
 My words too rudely may a monarch greet 
 For oh ! was ever grief like mine discreet ! 
 No sufferings shall my firm alliance end, 
 An unsuccessful, but a faithful friend. 
 
 277
 
 MATTHEW PRIOR 
 
 An Apology to a Lady, who told me, 
 I coud 7tot love her heartily, be- 
 cause I had lovd others. 
 In Imitation of Mr. Waller. 
 
 FAIR Sylvia, cease to blame my Youth 
 For having lov'd before ; 
 So Men, e'er they have learnt the Truth, 
 
 Strange Deities adore. 
 My Youth ('tis true) has often rang'd, 
 
 Like Bees o'er gawdy Flow'rs ; 
 And many thousand Loves has chang'd, 
 
 Till it was fixt in yours. 
 For, Sylvia, when I saw those Eyes, 
 
 'Twas soon determin'd there ; 
 Stars might as well forsake the Skies, 
 
 And vanish into Air, 
 If I from this great Rule do err, 
 
 New Beauties to explore ; 
 May I again turn Wanderer, 
 
 And never settle more. 
 
 Against Modesty in Love. 
 
 FOR many unsuccessful Years 
 At Cynthia's Feet I lay ; 
 And often bath'd 'em with my Tears, 
 
 Despair'd, but durst not pray. 
 No prostrate Wretch before the Shrine 
 
 Of any Saint above, 
 E'er thought his Goddess more divine, 
 
 Or paid more awful Love. 
 Still the disdainful Dame look'd down 
 
 With an insulting Pride ; 
 Receiv'd my Passion with a Frown, 
 
 Or toss'd her Head aside. 
 When Cupid whisper'd in my Ear, 
 
 Use more prevailing Charms, 
 
 378
 
 POEMS ATTRIBUTED TO PRIOR 
 
 Fond, whining, modest Fool, draw near, 
 
 And clasp her in your Arms. 
 With eager Kisses tempt the Maid, 
 
 From Cynthia's Feet depart ; 
 The Lips he warmly must invade, 
 
 Who wou'd possess the Heart. 
 With that I shook oft* all my Fears, 
 
 My better Fortune try'd ; 
 And Cynthia gave, what she for Years 
 
 Had foolishly deny'd. 
 
 On a yoimg Ladys going to Town in 
 the Spring, 
 
 ONE Night unhappy Celadon, 
 Beneath a friendly Myrtle's Shade, 
 With folded Arms and Eyes cast down, 
 Gently repos'd his Love-sick Head : 
 Whilst Tbyrsis sporting on the neighb'ring Plain, 
 Thus heard the discontented Youth complain. 
 
 Ask not the Cause why sickly Flow'rs 
 Faintly recline their drooping Heads; 
 As fearful of approaching Show'rs, 
 
 They strive to hide them in their Beds, 
 Grieving with Celadon they downward grow, 
 And feel with him a Sympathy of Woe. 
 
 Cbloris will go, the cruel Fair, 
 
 Regardless of her dying Swain 
 Leaves him to languish, to despair, 
 And murmur out in Sighs his Pain. 
 The fugitive to fair Augusta flies, 
 To make new Slaves, and gain new Victories. 
 
 So restless Monarchs, tho' possess'd 
 
 Of all that we call State or Pow'r, 
 Fancy themselves but meanly blest, 
 Vainly ambitious still of more. 
 Round the wide World impatiently they roam, 
 Not satisfy'd with private Sway at home. 
 
 379
 
 MATTHEW PRIOR 
 
 When the Cat "s away, 
 
 'The Mice may play. 
 
 A 
 
 FABLE, 
 
 Humbly inscribd to 
 
 Dr. Sw — t. 
 
 In Domibus Mures a-vido dente omnia captant: 
 In Domibus Fures avida mente omnia raptant. 
 
 A Lady once (so Stories say) 
 By Rats and Mice infested, 
 With Gins and Traps long sought to slay 
 The Thieves ; but still they scap'd away, 
 
 And daily her molested. 
 Great Havock 'mongst her Cheese was made, 
 
 And much the loss did grieve her : 
 At length Grimalkin to her Aid 
 She call'd (no more of Cats afraid) 
 
 And begg'd him to relieve her. 
 Soon as Grimalkin came in view, 
 
 The Vermin back retreated ; 
 Grimalkin swift as Lightning flew, 
 Thousands of Mice he daily slew, 
 
 Thousands of Rats defeated. 
 Ne'er Cat before such Glory won, 
 
 All People did adore him : 
 Grimalkin far all Cats out-shone, 
 And in his Lady's Favour none 
 
 Was then preferr'd before him. 
 Pert Mrs. Abigail alone 
 
 Envy'd Grimalkins Glory : 
 Her favourite Lap Dog now was grown 
 Neglected, him she did bemoan, 
 
 And rav'd like any T[or]y. 
 She cannot bear, she swears she won't, 
 
 To see the Cat regarded, 
 But firmly is resolv'd upon 't, 
 And vows, that, whatsoe'er comes on 't, 
 
 She '11 have the Cat discarded. 
 
 380
 
 POEMS ATTRIBUTED TO PRIOR 
 
 She Begs, she Storms, she Fawns, she Frets, 
 
 (Her Arts are all employ'd) 
 And tells her lady in a Pett, 
 Grimalkin cost her more in Meat 
 
 Than all the Rats destroy'd. 
 
 At length this Spiteful Waiting-maid 
 
 Produc'd a Thing amazing ; 
 The Favourite Cat 's a Victim made, 
 To satisfy this prating Jade, 
 
 And fairly turn'd a-grazing. 
 
 Now Lap Dog is again restor'd 
 
 Into his Lady's Favour ; 
 Sumptuously kept at Bed and Board, 
 And He (so Nab has given her word) 
 
 Shall from all Vermin save Her. 
 
 Nab much exults at this Success, 
 
 And, overwhelm'd with Joy, 
 Her Lady fondly does caress, 
 And tells her Fubb can do no less, 
 
 Than all Her Foes destroy. 
 
 But vain such Hopes ; The Mice that fled 
 Return, now Grim 's discarded ; 
 
 Whilst Fubb till Ten, on Silken Bed, 
 
 Securely lolls his drowsy Head, 
 And leaves Cheese unregarded. 
 
 Nor Rats, nor Mice the Lap Dog fear, 
 
 Now uncontrol'd their Theft is : 
 And whatsoe'er the Vermin spare, 
 Nab and her Dog betwixt them share, 
 Nor Pie, nor Pippin left is. 
 
 Mean while, to cover their Deceit, 
 
 At once, and slander Grim ; 
 Nab says, the Cat comes out of spight 
 To rob her Lady every Night, 
 
 So lays it all on him. 
 
 381
 
 MATTHEW PRIOR 
 
 Nor Corn secure in Garret high, 
 
 Nor Cheesecake safe in Closet ; 
 
 The Cellars now unguarded lye, 
 
 On ev'ry Shelf the Vermin Prey, 
 
 And still Grimalkin does it. 
 
 The Gains from Corn apace decay'd, 
 
 No Baggs to Market go : 
 Complaints came from the Dairy-maid, 
 The Mice had spoil'd her Butter Trade, 
 
 And eke her Cheese also. 
 
 With this same Lady once there liv'd 
 
 A trusty Servant Maid, 
 Who, hearing this, full much was griev'd, 
 Fearing her Lady was deceiv'd, 
 
 And hasten'd to her Aid. 
 
 Much Art she us'd for to disclose 
 
 And find out the Deceit ; 
 At length she to the Lady goes, 
 Discovers her Domestick Foes, 
 
 And opens all the Cheat. 
 
 Struck with the Sense of Her Mistake, 
 
 The Lady discontented, 
 Resolves again Her Cat to take, 
 And ne're again Her Cat forsake 
 
 Least she again repent it. 
 
 A FABLE OF THE 
 WIDOW AND HER CAT. 
 
 A WIDOW kept a favourite Cat, 
 At first a gentle Creature ; 
 But when he was grown Sleek and Fat, 
 With many a Mouse, and many a Rat, 
 He soon disclos'd his Nature. 
 
 382
 
 POEMS ATTRIBUTED TO PRIOR 
 
 The Fox and He were friends of old, 
 
 Nor cou'd they now be parted ; 
 They Nightly slunk to rob the Fold, 
 Devour'd the Lambs, the Fleeces sold, 
 And Puss grew Lion-hearted. 
 
 He scratch'd her Maid, he stole the Cream, 
 
 He tore her best lac'd Pinner ; 
 Nor Chanticleer upon the Beam, 
 Nor Chick, nor Duckling 'scapes, when Grim 
 
 Invites the P'ox to Dinner. 
 
 The Dame full wisely did Decree, 
 For fear he shou'd dispatch more, 
 
 That the false Wretch shou'd worry'd be ; 
 
 But in a saucy manner He 
 
 Thus Speech'd it like a L[echme]re : 
 
 " Must I, against all Right and Law, 
 
 "Like Pole-Cat vile be treated? 
 " I ! who so long with Tooth and Claw 
 " Have kept Domestick Mice in awe, 
 " And Foreign Foes defeated ! 
 
 "Your Golden Pippins, and your Pies, 
 
 " How oft have I defended ? 
 " 'Tis true, the Pinner which you prize 
 " I tore in Frolick ; to your Eyes 
 
 " I never Harm intended. 
 
 "I am a Cat of honour."— "Stay," 
 
 Quo' She, " no longer parley ; 
 " Whate'er you did in Battle slay, 
 " By Law of Arms became your Prey, 
 
 " I hope you won it fairly. 
 
 " Of this, we'll grant you stand acquit, 
 
 " But not of your Outrages : 
 "Tell me, Perfidious! Was it fit 
 " To make my Cream a Perquisite, 
 
 " And Steal, to mend your Wages ? 
 
 383
 
 MATTHEW PRIOR 
 
 " So flagrant is Thy insolence, 
 
 " So vile Thy Breach of Trust is, 
 "That longer with Thee to Dispense, 
 " Were want of Pow'r, or want of Sense 
 "Here, Towzer ! — Do Him Justice." 
 
 A Paraphrase o?i the French. 
 
 IN Grey-hair'd Celiac wither'd Arms 
 As mighty Lewis lay, 
 She cry'd, if I have any Charms, 
 My Dearest let's away. 
 
 For you, my Love, is all my Fear, 
 Hark how the Drums do Rattle : 
 
 Alas, Sir ! what shou'd you do here 
 In dreadful Day of Battle ? 
 
 Let little Orange stay and fight, 
 
 For Danger's his Diversion ; 
 The Wise will think you in the Right, 
 
 Not to expose your Person : 
 
 Nor vex your Thoughts how to repair 
 
 The Ruins of your Glory : 
 You ou2;ht to leave so mean a Care 
 
 To those who Pen your Story. 
 
 Are not Boileau and Corneile paid 
 
 For Panegyrick Writing ? 
 They know how Heroes may be made 
 
 Without the help of Fighting. 
 
 When Foes too saucily approach, 
 
 'Tis best to leave them fairly : 
 Put Six good Horses in your Coach, 
 
 And carry me to Marly. 
 Let Bouflersj to secure your Fame, 
 
 Go take some Town, or buy it ; 
 Whilst you, great Sir, at Nostredarne, 
 
 Te Deum sing in quiet. 
 
 384
 
 NOTES 
 
 p. i. The Hind and the Panther, etc. Written jointly by Trior and Charles 
 Montague. Re-published in Stale Poems, 1 703, and (verses only) in the unautho- 
 rised edition of Prior, 1 707 (see Vol. 1 of the present edition, p. 362). It was also 
 published in 1709 'London: Printed and Sold by H. Hills, in Black-fryars, 
 near the Water-side, 1709. Price Three Pence.' The edition of 1709 is 
 practically identical with the text of 1687 here printed, differences of spelling 
 and punctuation excepted. A few differences in the 1707 edition are noted 
 below. 
 
 Among the Longleat papers is preserved the following copy of a letter from 
 the original in Prior's own hand : 
 
 THE OCCASION OF WRITING THE COUNTRY-MOUSE, 
 
 AND THE CITY-MOUSE. 
 
 In a Letter To 
 
 Mr Dryden turning R: C: wrote a Poem which he called the H. and the P. 
 by the II. he means the Church of R : and the C : of E: by the P: The Argu- 
 ment of the whole Work is that the P : walking abroad one Evening was met 
 by the II. and invited to her Cell, and there entertained with aboundance of 
 Civility. They talk together of the Plot and the Test, real presence in the 
 Sacrament, Infalibility in matters of Faith. Tell one another two long Stories 
 in which they allude to the State each C : has of late been under, and is in at 
 present, and so bid each other good Night. 
 
 When People expected a great deal from so famous a Man on so fine a 
 subject, Out comes this Poem applauded by the Pa : and at first a little dreaded 
 by the Protestants : but the noise it made (like that of the Log in /Esop's Fable) 
 was only terrible at first, like the Log to[o] the Poem was found lumpish and 
 rediculous, & so soon trampled and insulted on by every One. The main 
 objection against it was that the matter of it was false and invidious, and the 
 way of its writing ungentile & rayling; but Billingsgate Manners in better 
 Language, and far below even the dignity of Satyr, for which the Author has 
 formerly been beaten. For it affirms that the Reformation took its Original 
 from the Lust of K. II. VIII, and the luxury and incontinence of Martin 
 Luther, that the C of E. sides with the Phanatics against the K. that her 
 Doctrines continue or change just as the State pleases with many other 
 indignities as malicious as any Jesuit could invent, & yet so very absurd as 
 hardly an Irish man would repeat 'em. 
 
 The second Objection was that this piece contradicted the known rules of 
 Poetry and even common Sense, for the whole being a Fable the Beasts who 
 speak should have reference to the Characters of the Persons they represent, 
 thus by a Lion, a Wolf or a Fox, we mean a fierce, a rapacious, or a designing 
 Man because the Nature of these Creatures and the Inclinations of such Men 
 bear something of resemblance and proportion. Now, by his two Beasts how 
 can we Understand the Two Churches the C : of R : is no more like a hind 
 
 P. II. BB 385
 
 NOTES 
 
 than 'tis like an Elephant, & the Rhinoceros is as good a representation of the 
 C. of E. as the Panther. 
 
 Then the Beasts should keep such Company as tis likely they may love as 
 tis probable they should know, or else 'tis not a Fable. A hind, who is so 
 quiet and innocent a beast would not in all probability be much delighted in 
 the Conversation of so fierce & Cruel a Creature as a Panther, or if She was, 
 they would discourse rather of Woods and Shades and Streams than of St Paul 
 to the Corinthians and the Council of Trent. The hind, I fancy would not run 
 over the Fathers, or repeat the Canan Law and the Code, and if She did the 
 Panther would scarse be able to tell her where she quoted false or when She 
 argued foul. 
 
 Amongst Authors who have written a Fable, Correct and well Horace has 
 told the Common Tale of the City M : and the C : M : in Latin, and Mr: Cowley 
 has Translated it into English. This Fable we have rediculed and told in the 
 same way Mr. Dryden does his H: and P: it being really as probable and 
 Natural that two Mice should take a Coach, go to the Tavern, get drunk, break 
 windows and be taken by the Constable, as that a hind and a Panther should 
 sit up all Night together a talking; One proving Oates and Bedlow were 
 Villains, and desiring the Penal Laws may be Repealed, and t'other defending 
 the Doctrines of Non resistance and Passive Obedience. 
 
 To make the thing yet more rediculous we took the same humour the D : of 
 B : had some years since in his play, the Rehearsal, that is we Bring in B : by 
 whom we mean D: defending (as his way is) the foolishest things in his Poem, 
 and Smith & Johnson by whom we mean any two Gentlemen of Tolerable 
 Sense and judgement finding these faults which are most Obvious, and urging 
 B. to be rediculous. Thus M : I have given you[r] Honor an Account of the 
 Original of this Trifle, the Credit it happened to gain at L. was indifferent 
 to me till my L: of Ex: was pleased not to discommend it at Burleigh, and 
 what ever was said of it before I had no reason to sit down contented with the 
 Value of it, or of any thing I ever writ, till Your Honor thought it not unworthy 
 Your Acceptance 
 
 So tho we chance to have some smal Estate 
 And few dispise and some approve our Fate 
 Repining stil we view our little Store 
 Judge the World errs, and think our Selves but poor 
 But when we offer to the Pow'rs above 
 When they are kind, when they our Gifts approve 1 
 Then our own Happiness we justly Prize 
 And bless the Stores that gave the Sacrifice. 
 I beg your Honors pardon for making Similies, a Young Poet can no more 
 write without them, than a parson preach without a Text, I am 
 May it please Your Honor 
 Your Honors 
 
 most Devoted and Obedient 
 Servant 
 
 M. PRIOR. 
 
 p. 3, 1. 23. misprint] Atteninto. 
 
 p. 4, 1. 9. misprint] Chnrch. 1. 10. misprint] iu. 1. 14. misprint] 
 hring. 1. 15. misprint] Thongh. 1. 22. misprint] Undetstanding. 
 
 '• Alt, reading: 
 
 Hut when to Heav'n that very Wealth we give 
 And the kind Pow'rs our little Gifts receive, 
 
 386
 
 p. 19, ] 
 
 1.7. 
 
 p. 20, 1 
 
 p. 21, ] 
 
 1. 4. 
 1.36. 
 
 p. 22, ] 
 
 below. 
 
 1. 2. 
 
 1- 36 
 
 NOTES 
 
 17071 Jenncr's took. 
 
 1707] observations. 1. 17. 1 707] But thank you. 
 1707] does in Darkness. 
 
 1707] makes the. 1. 4. 1707] of a. 1.6. 1707] tribe 
 
 1707] with her. 
 
 p. 23, 1. 17. 1709] which this. 
 
 p. 24, 1. 19] an exclamation mark has been added at the end of the line. 
 
 p. 27, 1. 34. 1707] us not. 
 
 p. 29. The original title includes (between 'Friends' and 'Vain') the 
 following: 'To which is added, | Threnus : | or, | Stanzas upon his Death. [ 
 By a Fellow-Collegian.' Copies exist with the couplet signed Buckingham, 
 and a Dublin imprint: 'Printed by & for George Grierson, at the Two Bibles 
 in Essex St. 1722.' 
 
 p. 31. The footnotes throughout are those of the text reprinted. 
 
 p. 33. First published in 1 7 18 (?). The title The Female Phaeton is 
 scratched through in the undated British Museum copy, and above it is written 
 in ink : Upon Lady Kitty Hide's first appearing in Public!;. By Air. Prior. 
 It bears the following imprint: — 'Printed for E. Curl], and sold by T. Warner 
 in Pater-noster-row. (Price Twopence.) N.B. The Copy, before publish 'd, 
 has not one Stanza printed right.' It differs from the text here printed as 
 indicated below. The 'Copy before publish'd' may be the one entitled 'Upon 
 
 Lady Katherine II de's first appearing at the Play-House in Drury-Lane. 
 
 By M w P r, Esq.; Sold by W. Graves in Paternoster-Row; and 
 
 W. Chetwood at Cato's Head in Russel Court, near the Play-house. 1718 
 (Price Two-pence),' a copy of which was in the Locker- Lampson collection. 
 See also notes to The Judgment of Venus, below. 1. 4. A MS. copy in the 
 Brit. Mus. reads 'mad as Colt.' 1. 23] better has She. 
 
 P- 34) 1- 3] And make her. 1. 9] Obtains. 
 
 p. 34. Published in A New | Miscellany | of | Original Poems, | Transla- 
 tions and Imitations | By the most Eminent Hands, | viz. | Mr. Prior, Mr. 
 Harcourt, | Mr. Pope, Lady M. W. M. | Mr. Hughes, Mrs. Manley, &c. | Now 
 first Published from their Respective | Manuscripts. | With some Familiar 
 Letters by the late Earl of | Rochester, never before Printed. | London, | 
 Printed for T. Jauncy at the Angel, without | Temple Bar. 1720. | 
 
 This Miscellany contains, inter alia. Prior's poem to the Countess Dowager 
 of Devonshire (see ante, p. 31), The Female Phaeton (attributing it and the 
 following poem to Mr Harcourt) and The Judgment of Venus. It also contains 
 some verses To Mr. Harcourt, occasioned by reading his Judgment of Venus; 
 sent from Cambridge. It would seem, therefore, that, during Prior's lifetime, 
 The Judgment of Venus was ascribed to another pen. It should also be stated 
 that neither The Judgment of Venus nor The Female Phaeton were included by 
 Prior's executor, Adrian Drift, in the two volumes of Miscellaneous Works pub- 
 lished by him in 1740, nor has any reference to them been found at Longleat, 
 save the, perhaps, negative evidence of the Ans-wer (see p. 335). On the other 
 hand the very rare Memoirs of the Life and Publick Employments of Matthew 
 Prior, Esq., published by E. Cuill in 1722, states 'The Two Copies of Verses 
 upon Lady Katherine Hyde, have been mistakenly applied by some Persons to 
 another Hand ; tho' w ho ever will in the least but impartially consider, they must 
 allow, that the Easy Turn, and Epigrammatick Point, in those Performances, 
 could be the Product of no other, than Mr. Prior's peculiar Pen.' Now, I hope 
 
 BB 2 387
 
 NOTES 
 
 it may not be uncharitable to say of Curll that he had few scruples, and his lack 
 of accuracy is attested in the paragraph immediately preceding the one quoted 
 above, wherein, speaking of the poem to the Countess Dowager of Devonshire, 
 he says it was '(the last Performance of that Master, in his own Hand-writing, 
 without taking a Copy of it) He gave near Thirty Years ago to his Friend 
 Anthony Hammond, Esq., and to that Gentleman the Reader is now obliged 
 for its first Publication.' We have seen above that, as a matter of fact, the 
 poem was published two years before Curb's Memoirs and Supplement saw the 
 light. The evidence against the attribution of The Judgment of Venus and 
 The Female Phaeton to Prior appears to be strengthened by the Answer now 
 first published. 
 
 p. 36. The Song to his Mistress was published in Dryden's Miscellany 
 Poems, The First Part, 1702, in the unauthorised edition of Prior's poems 
 published in 17 16 and also in the Oxford and Cambridge Miscellany Poems. 
 See Vol. 1 of present edition, p. 362. The text of 1716 misprints Desires in 
 the first line. The four poems that follow were part of the same collection. 
 
 An Ode. ..Horace was first published in 1692, 'London, Printed for Jacob 
 Tonson at the Judges -Head in Chancery- Lane near Fleet street.'' Prior's author- 
 ship is acknowledged on the title-page. 
 
 p. 37, 1. 8. 1692] Enervate. 1.31. misprint] Henecforth. 
 
 p. 42, 1. 10. 1692] or Sighs. I.33. misprint] dust. 1. 31] a comma 
 has been taken away after only. 
 
 p. 45. This poem had previously appeared in the State Poems of 1697 and 
 the collections of 1707, 1716, 1722, etc. 
 
 p. 47. Published in Poems | on | Affairs of State : | from | The time of 
 Oliver Cromwell, to the | Abdication of K. James the Second. | Written by 
 the greatest Wits of the Age. | viz. | Duke of Buckingham, Earl of Rochester, 
 Lord Bu . . . st, Sir John Denham, Andrew Marvell, Esq; Mr. Milton, 
 Mr. Dryden, Mr. Sprat, Mr. Waller, Mr. Ayloffe, &c. [in double columns] | 
 With some Miscellany Poems by the same: | Most whereof never before 
 Printed. | Now carefully examined with the Originals, and | Published without 
 any Castration. | Printed in the Year 1697. 
 
 In 'The Table,' the poem is, possibly erroneously, dated 1684. The 1697 
 text shows the following variants : 
 
 p. 48, 1. 1] fair. 1. 3] too John Dryden. 1. 17] halloo. 
 
 P- 49. b 53 Verses. 1. 8] can hit. 
 
 p. 51, 1. 9] I wou'd. 
 
 In copies of the Poems on Affairs of State, dated 1698, the Satire is stated 
 to be 'By Mr. P r,' and the following variations occur: 
 
 p. 48, 1. 2f] Or if. 
 
 p. 49, 1. 5] Verses. 1. 8] can hit. 
 
 p. 51, 1. 9] I wou'd. 1. 26] Horace. 
 
 The Satire on the Modern Translators and the Satire upon the Poets form 
 part of the collections of 1707, [716 (see Vol. 1 of this edition, pp. vii, viii 
 and 362) and 1722. In the Memoirs | of the | Life | and | Publick Employ- 
 ments I of I Matthew Prior, Esq., J with | A Copy of his Last Will [ and 
 Testament. | Drawn up by Himself in the Year | MDCCXXI | which formed 
 part of Curb's 1722 edition, it is stated, in the part not 'drawn up by' 
 Prior, but, presumably, by Curll, that 'In the Year 1720, He published 
 his Works, by Subscription, in one Volume in Folio, and met with that 
 
 388
 
 NOTES 
 
 Encouragement which was due to his deserved Merit. But tho' in this 
 Collection of his Poems he added several New Pieces, yet he omitted some 
 very valuable Old Ones, particularly his First Epistle to Fleetwood Shephard, 
 
 Esq: which his great .Modesty prevailed with him to withdraw, only upon there 
 being in the Close of that Piece, an innocent Joke upon Mr. Mountague, late 
 Earl of Halifax. For a like Reason, he Omitted that agreeable Satire upon 
 the Translators of Ovid's Epistles, and a Satire upon the POETS, in Imitation 
 of the VI 1th Satire of Juvenal, on account of a lev Nipping Turns upon Two 
 Noblemen, lately deceased. An ODE in Imitation of the Second Ode of 
 Horace, written by Him in the Year 1692, is likewise Omitted, because he 
 declared to have made some Use of that Piece in the Composing his Carmen 
 Saculare. Tho' it is rather to be presumed, this Omission was obtained by the 
 persuasion of some Political-Friends, who thought the Revival of this Ode a 
 Panegyrick too High for (a Prince above all Panegyrick) the late Immortal 
 King William of Glorious Memory. An Excellent POEM, to the Countess 
 Dozuager of Devonshire, upon a Piece of WISSIN'S, whereon were all ha- 
 Grandsons Painted, (the last Performance of that Master, in his own Hand- 
 writing, without taking a Copy of it) He gave near Thirty Years ago to his 
 Friend Anthony Hammond, Esq; and to that Gentleman the Reader is now 
 obliged for its first Publication. The Two Copies of Verses upon Lady 
 Katherine Hyde, have been mistakenly applied by some Persons to another 
 Hand; tho' whoever will in the least but impartially consider, they must 
 allow, that the Easy Turn, and Epigrammatick Point, in those Performances, 
 could be the Product of no other, than Mr. Prior's peculiar Pen ; And it is 
 hoped, that the Preservation of these Pieces, will be looked upon as an Act 
 of strict Justice to his Memory. 
 
 Since the late Collection of his POEMS in Folio, Mr. Prior himself 
 published Four POEMS, viz. I. The Conversation. A Tale. II. Colin's 
 Mistakes. Written in Imitation of Spenser's Style. III. Verses Spoke to 
 the Lady Henrietta-Cavendish Holies Harley, in the Library of St. Joluis- 
 College, Cambridge, November the 9th, Anno Dotn. 17 19. IV. Prologue to the 
 Orphan. Represented by some of the Westminster-Scholars, at Hickford's 
 Dancing-Room in York- Buildings, the 2d of February, 1720. Spoken by the 
 Lord Duplin. 
 
 This is an exact Account of all the Genuine Works of Mr. Prior, hitherto 
 published. As to the Manuscripts he has left behind him, the most consider- 
 able, we are informed, is one intitled, Dialogues of the Dead.' 
 
 I have referred previously (Vol. 1, p. viii) to Pope's statement that certain 
 of Prior's poems were prudently disowned, and, in the introductory Note to the 
 present volume, to the copies of the two Satires at Longleat. The following 
 lines follow the last line of the Satire upon the Poets in the Longleat 
 collection: 
 
 Thus far my Satyrist and angry Friend : 
 You, Sir, began the Verse; and You must end. 
 And may just Phoebus his wish'd Aid deny; 
 And my vex'd Strings in sullen Silence lye : 
 When they forget Your Name: for O! to You 
 My Song, my Thought, my very Soul is due. 
 Then O! receive my Thanks: O deign to take 
 The little Offering a poor Muse can make : 
 That pants and Strives ami fain wou'd let Men see 
 How good her Patron and how grateful She. 
 
 Fain wou'd but soon she finds the noble Song 
 
 A Theme too mighty for a Muse so Young; 
 
 389
 
 NOTES 
 
 Then owns her Weakness, wishes, rages, grieves; 
 And with mad trouble the wrong'd subject leaves: 
 Vet Vows her Labor She'l one day renew, 
 With strengthn'd Wings the glorious Toil pursue ; 
 And sing of wondrous Piety and You. 
 I am 
 
 Sir, may it please You, 
 Your most obliged and 
 most Obedient Servant 
 
 PRIOR. 
 The following variants occur in the text of 1707 : 
 p. 47, 1. 21. like Tom Stemhold. 
 
 p. 48, 1. 3. J. Dryden. 1. 4. censures. 1. 31. of his. 1. 37. he 
 would. 
 
 p. 49, 1. 8. can hit. 
 
 p. 50, 1. 8. Z ns. 1. 9. P . m . . . . n. 1. 14. he could. 
 
 I.18. Not be. I.35. bullies. 1. 36. urges 'em. 
 p. 51, 1. 9. I would. 1. 15. it knew. 
 p. 52, 1. r6. who long. 
 
 P- 53, 1. 37- be »'• 
 
 p. 54, 1. 3] a Duck Lane. 1. 4] stuck 'gainst. 1. 14] you in. 1. 17] 
 me two. 1. 20] wisely try. 
 
 p. 55, 1. 20] And she's. 1. 29] the miscall'd. 1. 33] dun. 
 p. 56, 1. 10] so their. 1. 1 1] their example. 1. 33] As Carlisle now i' th'. 
 p. 57. Epitaph Extempore. These 11. are to be found in the following 
 collection, from which the poems that immediately follow are taken. Some 
 editions (e.g. Evans) read : 
 
 Nobles and Heralds, by your leave, 
 Here lies what once was Matthew Prior. 
 A I New Collection | of j Poems | on | Several Occasions. | By \ Mr. Prior, 
 and Others. | Adorned with Cuts. | [design] | London: | Printed for Tho. 
 Osborne, in Grafs-Inn, | near the Walks, MDCCXXV. 
 
 A prefatory letter To Sir Henry Hussey, Bart, runs as follows: 
 It will certainly be allowed, Sir, by all who have the happiness of Your 
 Acquaintance, that I do as much Justice to the Memory of Mr. Prior, by 
 inscribing to You these his Remains, as I should have done Injury to the 
 Public by concealing them. 
 
 The Tender I hereby make, will I hope, be the more acceptable, as You 
 sometimes divert a Solitary Hour in the same agreeable Amusement; and I 
 likewise hope, that Your Own Productions will One Day convince both the 
 empty Fop, and the cavilling Critic, that the Gentleman, and the Poet are 
 inseparable Companions. 
 
 May every Idea You form, be pleasing, & may every Action of Your Life 
 meet the just Reward of true Honour, Generosity, and Friendship, (Virtues 
 which tho' seldom found, are fully possessed by You,) is the Sincere wish of 
 Honoured Sir, 
 
 Your most Obliged, 
 
 Most Obedient, 
 
 and most Devoted 
 
 Humble Servant, 
 
 PHILO-MUSIS. 
 
 39°
 
 NOTES 
 
 The volume contains 'Some Memoirs of the Life of the Author'; 'A True 
 Copy of Mr. Trior's Last Will and Testament: Drawn up by Himself. 
 E Registro Curiit Prerogative Cantuarien' Extract; Threnus: or, Stanzas 
 on the Death of Mr. Prior; The Inscription upon Mr. Priori Monument in 
 
 Westminster-Abb?}'. Made by Dr. Freind; [the same] Attempted in English', 
 Epitaph Extempore [printed on page 57 of the present volume]; Postscript 
 [explaining the circumstances under which the First Epistle to Fleetwood 
 Sheppard, Esq., was written]; To the Editor, On the Publication of some of 
 Mr. Prior* Posthumous Pieces [signed W. Pattison]; and the following 
 poems: — The Turtle and the Sparrow, Down-Hall, An Epistle to Fleetwood 
 Sheppard, Esq., An Ode, in Imitation of the Second Ode of the Third Book 
 of Horace, Verses Spoke to the Lady Henrietta- Cavendish Holies /Parley, 
 Prologue to the Orphan, The Conversation, Colin s Mistakes, To the Right 
 Honourable the Countess Dowager of Devonshire, The Female Phaeton, The 
 judgment of Venus, Song [Whilst I am scorch'd, etc.]. 
 
 A portrait of Prior by J. Clark, 1722, faces the title-page, and engravings 
 by G. van der Gucht face The Turtle and the Sparrow and Down Hall. The 
 volume also contains The Curious Maid : A Tale. In Imitation of Mr. Prior. 
 By Hildebrand Jacob, Esq., with the well-known plate by the same artist; 
 The Bubble: A Tale. By Dean Swift; The Nightingale [by W. Pattison]; 
 The Court of Venus. ..By the Same; The Story of Orpheus and Eurydice...By 
 the Same; and, separately paged, The Hind and the Panther Transvers'd. 
 Two pages of Contents at the end of the volume index this last work as an 
 Appendix to the poems that precede it. 
 
 p. 58. The original title-page is as follows : 
 
 The I Turtle I and the | Sparrow. | A | Poem. | By the late Matthew Prior, 
 Esq; I London: | Printed for J. Roberts, near the Oxford-Arms, in | Warwick- 
 Lane. MDCCXXIII. 
 
 p. 60, 1. 7. 1725 misprints] wirh. 1. 10. 1723] Pascerella. 1. [3. 
 
 1723] whole cruel. 
 
 p. 63, 1. 36. 
 
 1723] was a. 
 
 p. 64, 1. 17. 
 
 1723] died on. 
 
 p. 65, 1. 12. 
 
 1723 omits] From. 
 
 p. 66, 1. 27. 
 inserts here : 
 
 1725 mi sprints] 10. 
 
 11. 24 — 25. A copy at Longleat 
 
 These Notions oft' did I recite, 
 She drank them in with vast delight. 
 At home with equal freedom blest 
 We acted Both as each thought best ; 
 
 p. 67, 1. i. 1725 misprints] constanr. 
 
 p. 68, 1. 1 1. A copy at Longleat reads: 
 
 And as that veil she backward drew 
 
 And show'd her Opener face to View 
 
 The plagues, etc. 
 
 p. 6g. Printed from Drift's volume. See my Note, p. viii. A copy at 
 Longleat gives, as an alternative to 11. 5 and 6 of the poem: 
 Grow Ancient in a worthy husbands arms 
 Enamour'd by Thy Virtues deathless charms 
 and states that the lines were addressed to Mrs Margaret Ilarley. 
 
 39 1
 
 NOTES 
 
 p. 70. The original edition contains the following title-page and 
 preface : 
 
 Down-Hall: | a | Poem. | By the Late Mr. Prior. \ 
 
 Whene'er in moving Lines the Bard unfolds 
 The Solomonian Phrase, he strikes our Souls; 
 We scorn, the while we read the solemn Lays, 
 The World's Delusion, and the Bubble Praise. 
 Whene'er he girts with Wreaths the Victor's Brow, 
 He crowns the Hero, and the Poet too. 
 11 'hen Chloe'^ Form, and Emma'j Flame he tells, 
 Th' infectious Passion ev'ry Reader feels. 
 Each different Song does ev'ry Breast inspire, 
 Our Hearts are tun'd according to his Lyre! 
 London, | Printed for J. Roberts, in Warwick-Lane, | MDCCXXIII. 
 [Price 6d.] 
 
 the PREFACE. 
 
 The uncommon Success that always attended the Works of Mr. Prior, is 
 sufficient Encouragement to any one, to publish any Performance of that 
 Gentleman's. But stronger were the Motives that induced me to it ; I thought 
 it an Injury done to the Memory of the Dead, and a Wrong to the World, to 
 screen from Light any Thing of that immortal Man's; especially when it was in 
 my Power to oblige the World therewith. 
 
 I thought it proper, on this Occasion, to inform the Reader, that the 
 
 posthumous Works of Mr. Prior, publish'd some Time ago by Mr. C /, are 
 
 thought to be spurious. That this is genuine, will surely be doubted by none, 
 unless of a very depraved Taste. Look on the Thief s.\\A Cordelier, and Down- 
 Hall, then think if they could be wrote by separate Hands. See the Easiness 
 of Thought, and Nature so artificially drawn, and judge if they can be any one's 
 but a Prior's. 
 
 Such are the Sentiments of some judicious Correspondence; by whose 
 Advice I no longer conceal'd the following Poem, (the Copy of which has been 
 above a Year in my Hands) but took this Opportunity to favour the Ingenious 
 with it. 
 
 p. 70, 1. 16. 1723] must go poke in. 1. 4- l 7 2 3 adds footnote to 
 
 Gadzooks] A Word that Mr. M y often uses. 
 
 p. 71, 1. 10. 1723] repair to Oliver M n. 1. 14- 1723] a11 vour - 
 
 ]. 20. 1723] D 1. I.21. 1723] Friend M y. 1. 31. 1723 adds 
 
 footnotes to Ralpho and Newman] The Name of a Horse and The Name of a 
 Man. [Cf. p. 405.] I.35. 1743 adds footnote to Nymph] At Hodsdon, 
 
 where in the Road is the Shape of a Nymph pouring Water out of an Urn. 
 
 p. 72, 1. 1. 1723 adds footnote} Mr. M y speaks. 1. 3. 1723] that 
 
 liv'd. 1. 11. 1723] strangely are. 11. 30, 32. 1723] M y... 
 
 M y. 
 
 p. 73. 1- 5- 1723] call'd hey Down, hey. 1.8. 1723] and the Stocks. 
 
 I.9. 1723] Of the wise. 1. 10. 1723 adds footnote} Mr. M y speaks. 
 
 1. 23. 1723] of our. 1. 29. 1725 misprints} Eut. 
 
 p. 74, 11. 1, 3, 9, 11, 22. 1723] M y. I.24. i723]G..bs. 
 
 I.28. 1723] B tt. I.29. 1723] B tty. 1-33- wzadds 
 
 footnote} My Lord Harley. 
 
 392
 
 NOTES 
 
 p. 75, I. 5. 1713 omits this line. 11. 6ff. Published in 1710 'LONDON i 
 Printed U>\ Jacob Tonson, at Shakespear's-Head over-against Katharine-Street 
 in the Strand. MDCCXX. | /V»« id.]. 1 Also 'Cambridge, Printed for 
 Cornelias Crownfield; and arc to he Sold by Jacob Tonson, Bookseller in 
 
 London. Price Two Pence.' A framed copy can be seen in the library of 
 S. John's College, Cambridge. 
 
 p. 76, 11. 11 et seq.] Published separately: 'London: Printed for Jacob 
 Tonson, at Shakespear's-Head over-against Katharine-Street in the Strand. 
 MDCCXX.' There is a copy among the papers at Longleat. 
 
 p. 77] a full-stop has been added at the end of I. 2. The original edition of 
 The I Conversation. | A | Tale, bears the following imprint : London: | Printed 
 for Jacob Tonson, at Sliakespears-Head, over- | against Katharine-Street in the 
 Strand. MDCCXX. 
 
 p. 78, 1. 20. 1720] Clark. 
 
 p. 79, 1. 37. 1720 adds] Finis. 
 
 p. 80. Published separately: London: Printed for Jacob Tonson, at 
 Shakespear's-Head over-against Katharine-Street in the Strand. MDCCXXI. 
 
 p. 83. Also published in Examen Poetieutn : being The Third Part of 
 Miscellany Poems. The following are the variations in the Second Edition of 
 this collection, 1706 (Jacob Tonson). 1. 26. E. P. omits part of and the 
 following line. 1. 30] And curs'd I am, for God neglects my cry. 1. 31] 
 
 O Lord in. 1. 35] O rise and save me from. 
 
 p, 84, 1. 3] none sing. 1. 5] is sweet. 1. 7] and set me safe to. 
 
 1. 8] O make my Longings and thy Mercy sure. 11. 1 1—14] 
 Behold the weary'd Prodigal is come 
 To Thee, his Hope, his Harbour, and his Home: 
 No Father he could find, no Friend abroad, 
 Depriv'd of Joy, and destitute of God. 
 1. 15] and his. 1. 16] thou his Father. ..his Friend. 11. iq ff. A copy at 
 
 Longleat shows the following variants: Upon the King's taking Namur... 
 that Lewis bought our King requires With Gold one bribed, the other storms 
 with fires. ..Let flattering Boileau sing his earthly Jove. Jove Bribed. ..When 
 he like... Active and young. 
 
 p. 85. Published in Dryden's Miscellany Poems, Part 5, wherein the 
 following variations occur. 1. 3] of Five. 1. 4] the Author suppos'd 
 
 Forty. 1. 10] Passion. 1. 23] / have deleted a com ma after things. 
 
 There is also a copy at Longleat with the above alteration in the title and 
 the addition of the name of Lady Mary Villiers. 
 
 p. 86. Published in The Examiner, Sept. 7, 17 10, i.e. Number 6 'From 
 Thursday August 31 to Thursday Sept. 7, 17 10,' wherein the following 
 variations occur. 11. 11 and 12] The Kiddle. 1. 19] cou'd do. 1. 28] 
 
 grown. 1. 29] his stick. 1. 32] What stranger Creature. 1. 36] The 
 
 footnote is, apparently, DrifPs. 
 
 p. 87. The Fable was published in 'The Examiner, No. 3, 'From Thursday 
 Aug. ro to Thursday Aug. 17, 1710.' It is quoted in an article entitled 'A 
 
 Continuation of the Remarks on Mr. Pett m's Letter.' Mr Abel's Song is 
 
 also among the Longleat papers. 
 
 p. 88. Both these poems were published in Dryden's Miscellany Poems, 
 Part 5, where the former is called The Wedding Night and the latter To a 
 Lady That designed going to a Fortune-Teller. 1. 12, p. 89 reads] matter. 
 
 393
 
 NOTES 
 
 p. 89. Published in Dryden's Miscellany Poems, 1702, which reads: 
 1. 30] But when. 1. 31] Then we presently. 
 
 There is also a copy at Longleat. 
 
 p. 90. Published in Poetical Miscellanies, Part 5, 1704, which reads: 
 1. 11] said. 1. 12] Dream. 1. 15] I lost. 1. 16] Moonless. 1. 24] I 
 
 gave. 1. 28] did I. 
 
 p. 91, 11. 15 et seq.] A copy at Longleat describes it as 'Faithfully Trans- 
 lated from Ovid's Metamorphoses, Book 1,' and gives fustic for rusty (p. 92, 1. 3) 
 and beauty for beauties (p. 92, 1. 12). 
 
 p. 95- Compare with the Prologue to the Orphan, p. 76. 
 
 p. 96. The Longleat copy of this poem is entitled simply Written in the 
 Year 1696. 1. 13 {page, not poem) reads] Horace and on. 
 
 p. 98, 1. 31] a superfluous bracket at the beginning of the line has been 
 removed. 
 
 p. in, 1. 1. A copy at Longleat shows the following variations: 
 1. 3] Caelia. 1. 5] For mass. 1. 9] without bound. 1. 1 1] Caelias. 
 
 p. 122, 11. 17 et seq. There is a copy of this poem at Longleat. 
 
 p. 127, 11. 10 et seq. There is a copy at Longleat which reads (I. 4 of 
 Enigma) o'er the waters, and gives, as an alternative to the last line: 
 
 And half the Year they Sink and half they Swim. 
 1. 20. These lines are also among the Longleat papers, where they are entitled 
 The Lame &* the Blind disputing the right to an Oyster found; The Lawyer 
 decides the controversy. The last two lines, however, appear to be a separate 
 fragment. 
 
 p. 128, 11. 17 et seq. There is a copy of this poem at Longleat. 
 
 p. 129, 1. 27. Cf. p. 360, 1. 17. 
 
 p. 130, 11. 26 et seq. The Longleat copy adds: Written in Lady Harriettes 
 hand. 
 
 p. 137, 1. 25. misprints] cease. 
 
 p. 140, 1. 31] a comma has been deleted after happy. 
 
 P- J 53- The text of Evans's edition has been collated with the music-book 
 in which these songs were first published, and one verse, the fifth of the 18th 
 song, which previous editions have lacked, is now reprinted. This music-book 
 is very rare. There is a copy in the Library of S. John's College, Cambridge. 
 The title-page runs thus: Lyric Poems; | Being Twenty Four Songs | (Never 
 before Printed :) | by the Late | Matthew Prior Esq r . ; | Set to Music | by 
 Several Eminent Masters. | [Portrait] | Printed for& Sold by | Sam: Harding, | 
 On the Pavement in S l . Martins-Lane. | MDCCXLI | Publish'd Jan^. I st . 
 1 740/ 1. 
 
 The order of the songs here adopted is that of the above edition. 
 1. 14] title obtained from music-book. 
 
 p. 154, 1. 21. Evans] should Heaven. 
 
 p. 156, 11. 20, 23. Evans] you. 1. 26. Evans] will sure prevail. 
 
 p. 158, 1. 10] title obtained from music-book. 
 
 p. 159, 1. 17] the s has been added to rhyme with cause. 
 
 p. 160, 1. 4. Evans] Let cruel fate us still. 1. 8. Evans] trouble. 
 
 p. 161, 1. 9. Evans] when the other. 
 
 394
 
 NOTES 
 
 p. 162, 1. 3, Evans] of paces. 1. 16. Evans] disdain'd. 
 
 p. 163, 11. 2 and 17] title and date obtained from music-book. 
 
 p. 164, 1. 25] title obtained from music-book. 
 
 p. 167, 1. 28. Evans] in her does. 
 
 p. 168, 11. 13 et seq. A copy of this poem at Longleat shows the following 
 variations: 1. 26] pattern, Sir, She learnt to. 1. 27] pursues. 1. 28] And 
 
 sure She ne'er... follow. 1. 29] command. 1. 30] smiling an aspiring. 
 
 1. 31] To make. 
 
 p. 169, 1. 2] palm, the muses. 1. 3] Where closely both with glad 
 
 embraces join'd. 1. 4] twin'd. 1. 5] to Your virtue due that could. 
 
 I. 10] the sacred Song which. 11. 1 1 et seq. Cf. note to p. 272. There is 
 a copy of this poem at Longleat, entitled The First Copy To My Lord of Ely, 
 containing the following variations: 1. 20] hour of rest. 1. 21] by rig'rous 
 Winters frost. 1. 29] her greater shepherd. 1. 31] your Tears. 
 
 p. 170, 1. 2] soul. omits 11. 4 and 5. 1. 6] Say what. 1. 24] he 
 
 that caus'd. 1. ;,o] on their throne. 1. 31] But Daphnis, friend, and 
 
 happyness are fled. * 1. 32] tears I shed. 1. 34] Was Daphnis then 
 
 so kind. 
 
 p. 171, 1. 1] ah. 1. 4] like Thee. 1. 5] sorrows. adds, between 
 
 II. 5 and 6 : 
 
 Come, give thy anxious Soul its wonted Peace 
 And from this Hour let all sad troubles cease. 
 1. 6] Suppress thy sighs, those downcast. 1. 7] present Thou adore'dst, him. 
 p. 172. A copy of the Epigram at Longleat shows the following 
 variations: 1. 3] Meek Franco. 1. 5] caitiff claw. 1. 6] may yet. 
 
 1. 9] He may. 1. 12] a single. 1. 14. Evans, though corrected in 
 
 Errata] Attetbury's. 
 
 p. 175, 11. 8—12. In the Longleat papers this epigram is attributed to 
 Pope, with the additional couplet : 
 
 This in the days of good King George I writ, 
 When Ambrose Phillips had a place for Wit. 
 
 A. Pope. 
 
 pp. 175 and 176. These two poems {Ombre and Birthday) should have 
 been printed along with those contained in Drift's collection and not at the 
 end of those taken from Evans, though both are to be found in Evans. 
 
 p. 180. These essays and dialogues exist in more than one MS. at Longleat. 
 A few variants have been noted in a collation by Mr G. A. Brown of the various 
 copies, and are given below : 1. 13] of the Mathematicks. 1. 16] a full-point 
 has been added after Greek and in similar cases at the end of a sentence. 1. 28] 
 from the Isles. 
 
 p. 181, 1. 8] a colon has been added after Public. 
 
 p. 182, 1. 9] Picture. 1. 18] of the Mind. 1. 21] a comma has been 
 
 supplied after hand. 
 
 p. 183, 1. 9] Vertuoso. 11. 19 and 38] commas have been added after 
 
 Historians and Success. 
 
 p. 184, 1. 1 1] a colon has been added after eminent. 1. 25] so in the revised 
 MS. printed from, but another MS. has but in the Latter the 111 and this may 
 be the correct reading. 1. 26] in Sentence. 
 
 395
 
 NOTES 
 
 p. 185, I. 7] a colon has been added after thing. 1. 16] continue in. 1. 1 7] 
 my part. 
 
 p. 186, 1. 2 MS. printed from (referred to henceforward as MS.) reads] 
 Diffinition depend. 1. 14] into Quibble. 11. 26 and 29] commas have been 
 supplied after Ordered and Convocation. 1. 32] ward as Cautiously. 
 
 p. 187, 1. 33] a semi-colon has been supplied after Communication. 
 
 p. 188, 1. 13] of Orchestre. 
 
 p. 190, 1. 31] but a. 
 
 p. 191, 1. 12] Exercise. 1. 21] thro our Leggs. 
 
 p. 192, 1. 8] a comma has been supplied after Sword. 
 
 p. 194, 1. 36] the Shirt of. 
 
 P- I 95, 1- 36] a comma has been supplied after Rule. 1. 37] only for 
 
 reason. 
 
 p. 196, 1. 5] dislikes it before. 1. 39] has. 
 
 p. 197, 1. 37] a colon has been supplied after ensued. 
 
 p. 198, 1. 5] him that he. 1. 8] is it for. 1. 19] or levelled from. 
 
 1. 29] Cramp. 
 
 p. 199, 1. 22] grow. 
 
 p. 202, 1. 7] yield to or. 
 
 p. 207, 1. 10] a comma has been supplied after Preposition. 
 
 p. 208, 1. 17] Why Hast. 1. 36] blank. 1. 38] of one Hundred. 
 
 1. 39] them the next. 
 
 p. 209, 1. 12] were useful. 1. 33] not I. 
 
 p. 210, 1. 14] at Pavie. 1. 18] Ordered Processions. 
 
 p. 211, 1. 2] in this life. 1. 9] Errors. 1. 15] Calliamachus. Cf. Vol. 1 
 of this edition, p. 198. 1. 23] forgot the little. 
 
 p. 212, 1. 1] than the Heroes in. 1. 8] Commonwealth, Quo ad hoc, than. 
 1. 14] upon that. 
 
 p. 213, 1. 7] and ran over. 1. 20] Assaulting every Body he. 1. 23] 
 
 throughout Christendom. 1. 24] That of Franckfort. 
 
 p. 214, 1. 14] and Gout. 
 
 p. 215, 1. 15. MS.] Pheobus. 1. 19] Orchard. 1. 23] you have 
 
 Answered, it was for Your Interest or your. 1. 33] now so desired. 1. 36] 
 be strictly. 1. 40] Colourings. 
 
 p. 216, 1. 1] to the Picture. 1. 15. MS.] sately. 1. 16] she does out. 
 1. 25] Stories of how. 1. 31] were mere Grammarians. 1. 33] Declama- 
 
 tions. On my Conscience I think there are but two very great Exceptions to 
 my General Rule, Julius Caesar and Antoninus who could either tell what 
 they did or how they thought. 
 
 Chas. What Signifies telling, words are your Province, Deeds are Ours, 
 for under favor, Sir, all the while you live upon us you only write what 
 we Act. 
 
 p. 217, 1. 13] part of the. 
 
 p. 218, 1. 12] nor sleep quietly. 1. 40] is it for. 
 
 p. 219, 1. 4] Nay Since... Facts, Charles, before. 1. 22] Equivoke two. 
 
 1. 35] power. He. 
 
 396
 
 NOTES 
 
 p. 220, 1. p] States at Bruxclles. I- 19] Monk of St. Just. 1- 20] and 
 
 when you waked. 
 
 p. 221, 1. 14] my own life. 1. 35] against who. 
 
 p. 222, 1. 20] hark Ye. 
 
 p. 224, 1. 16. MS.] avoding. 
 
 p. 225, 1. 1. MS.] their. 
 
 p. 226, 1. 4] You 1st set. ..and who ever. 11. 17 and 18] commas have been 
 supplied after is and Memnon. 
 
 p. 227, 1. 27. MS.] Extant. 1. 30] a comma has been supplied after 
 
 Solidity. 
 
 p. 228, 1. 18] of you meant. 1. 21] Grocer and the Fishmonger. 
 
 p. 229, 1. 12] could doubt. 11. 35 ff.'J upon the same squares of the board 
 where we placed them, are said to be in the same place tho the board it self be 
 carryeel out of one Room into another and the Chessmen are stil said to be in 
 the same place the chess board is still in the same place it was if it remains in.... 
 
 p. 230, 1. 2 1 the parts of. 
 
 p. 231, 1. 1] that, and that. 1. 38] traces made on. 
 
 p. 232, 1. 19] whom You do. 1. 29] we would do. 
 
 P- 2 33> !• 3- MS.] too. 1. 16] together, seemingly imparted. 1. 23. 
 
 MS.] does. Other copies read as a Swallow does at. 
 
 p. 234, 1. 7] Habitudes. 1. 12] between Aversion. 1. 16] Evils. 
 
 1. 17] presented to me. 1. 23. MS.] Diety. 
 
 P- 2 35> !• 14] Neighbours? you have. 1. 38] too much nourishment. 
 
 1. 40] may destroy our. 
 
 p. 236, 1. 5] New. On another observation nothing is so firmly believed as 
 that of which we know the least. 1. 12] Losses should happen. 1. 30] 
 
 thought. 
 
 p. 237, 1. 8] Lucretius his world. A comma has been supplied after Jumbled. 
 1. 11] we skip to. 1. 14] and lame. 1. 18] PCharron. 1. 22. MS.] 
 
 Mabranch. 
 
 p. 238, 1. 27. MS.] Petrach. 1. 35] you say. 1. 37] no other Creature. 
 
 p. 239, 1. 9] but, do. 1. 11] the Tassels to. I. 19] I told. 1. 34] 
 
 you seem to call. 
 
 p. 240, 1. 18] that fall under. 1. 25] Estates, or at least in the fixing our 
 
 Wishes in regard to those Estates, 1. 38] Estate where Pyrrho. 
 
 p. 241, 1. 10 ff.] call in as many as you can of your Brother Philosophers to 
 your Assistance, nay sometimes when you are talking against Orators and 
 Poets you have recourse to Both for your very Figure and Expression when. 
 
 p. 242, 1. 13] and the Audience Admired. 1. 17] Languages. 1. 24] 
 
 your Page all represented. 1. 26] the Cat might. 1. 37] inclinations or 
 
 Virtues. 1. 39] Year. 
 
 p. 243, 1. 1] a comma has been supplied after something. 1. 1 2. MS.] 
 
 nightgound. 1. 14] hours has been. 1. 25] Men thro many. 1. 38] 
 
 Fiends upon. 
 
 p. 244, 1. 3. MS.] kitching. 1. 9] duplicated in error in the MS. 1. 11] 
 feelingly Hungry. 1. 21] Science and labour. 1. 40] are practicable; 
 
 there. 
 
 397
 
 NOTES 
 
 p. 245, 1. 3] Side, nor to. 1. 10. MS.] kitching. 1. 16] Lord 
 
 Truemadams. 1. 19] a comma has been taken away after retain. I. 22] 
 
 tho Margaret you. 1. 23] Barrel or quart. 1. 25] hundred Old. 
 
 p. 246, 1. 13. MS.] your. 
 
 p. 247, 1. 17] the Writings because. 
 
 p. 248, 11. 31 ff.] M. It is a debt we must all pay to Nature and some 
 years sooner or later makes little difference in the Question compared with the 
 years either past or to come, which joined together must make one Eternity for 
 ought we know it was an uneasy thing to be born, and for ought we may know, 
 we may not be sensible of those Pangs of Death under which the Standers by 
 think we labour. 
 
 V. But to Dye as you did, to see the Headsman with the Axe after the 
 Law had past your Sentence and Demanded the Execution of it. 
 
 M. No more than for the patient to see the Apothecary bring the Quieting 
 Draught after the Physician has just given him over. 
 
 V. But that Pomp and Apparatus of Death, the Black Cloth and Coffin 
 prepared, your Relations and Friends surrounding You — 
 
 M. Reason and Religion will soon get the better of these apprehensions. 
 You see it did not as much as change or debase even my good Humour. 
 
 p. 249, 1. 37] I was going to Animadvertise upon, he. 1. 40] He lost his 
 head because. 
 
 p. 250, 1. 1. MS.] to. 1. 24] Nil mali de Superiori. 
 
 p. 251, I. 5] a comma has been supplied after World. 1. 33] is Com- 
 
 munion. 
 
 p. 252, 1. 1] put upon our. 1. 6] respect of Persons. 1. 20] into his 
 
 House. 1. 34] I find than. 
 
 p. 254, 1. 13. MS.] Prudens futuri temporis excitum Caliginosa nocte 
 premit Deus. A. 1. 14J coming fraught with. 1. 76] a comma has 
 
 been supplied after durable. 1. 36] laid him under. 
 
 p. 255. !• 13] with regret. 
 
 p. 256, 1. 13] whimsical Persons have. 1. 17] M. Let me give you some 
 Examples in proof then [rest defective']. 
 
 p. 257, 1. 21] You are pleased. 1. 27] the Mass of. 1. 29] upon any. 
 
 p. 258, 1. 1] Law. 1. 10] a Compass, and. 1. 32 ff.] Heresies. I tell 
 
 thee plainly, Vicar once more that every Man is obliged to suffer for what is 
 right, as to oppose which is Unjust, and conscience is at once the Law and 
 Judge that will Convict or absolve You tho you stand accused by no Man and 
 the Basis. 
 
 p. 260, 1. 25] mention Men that were born. 
 
 p. 261, 1. 8] many indeed there are that. 1. 32] whereas without it 
 
 I dyed. 
 
 p. 263, 1. 16] of Three. 1. 36] and thou. 
 
 p. 264, 1. 9. MS.] of. 
 
 p. 265, 1. 9] a comma has been added after real. 
 
 p. 266, 1. 20. MS.] grows. 1. 22] commas have been added after self 
 
 and he. 1. 38] their own Conscience. 
 
 p. 267, 1. 14] have had what. 1. 36] but of the mind, 
 398
 
 NOTES 
 
 p. 268, 1. 20] supplied from another MS. to take away the obscurity of the 
 sentence. 
 
 p. 269, 1. 12. MS.] Every Acts. One MS. reads] Every Man Acts. 
 
 p. 272, 1. t. Indexed in the MS. volume as To Madam Katharine Prior. 
 Portions of the poem are utilised in the /'as/oral to Dr. Turner', see pp. 169 ff. 
 ante. There are several passages in the poems now reprinted that recall 
 previously published lines and, in some cases, as in the poem under notice, lines 
 have been bodily shifted from one poem to another. As in the case of all the 
 poems, etc., printed from MSS., the punctuation is left as in the MSS. save 
 where noted, or save in the addition of full-points at the ends of sentences. 
 The MS. volume in which this and the following poems are contained is 
 entitled Poetical Miscellanies : Containing a Collection of Poems, etc., By 
 Matthew Prior, Esq. 
 
 p. 273, 1. 12. MS.] the. I.34. MS.] The. 
 
 p. 278, 1. 9] blank in MS. 
 
 p. 281, 1. 13] indexed as Katharine Prior. 1. 24. MS.] repentence. 
 
 p. 283, 1. 23. A note in the index adds] written very young. 
 
 p. 288, 1. 3] The phrase 'To the Earl of Dorset' is crossed out in the index. 
 11. 1 1 and 12] the word 'Sir' before the beginning of the poem has been crossed 
 out in the MS. 
 
 p. 289, 11. 8 ff. This poem was printed anonymously in Poems on Affairs of 
 State, 1703. I have followed the text of the printed version, inserting a few 
 additional notes in square brackets from the Longleat MS. Cf. George 
 Stepney's poem, 'Yes, fickle Cambridge, Perkins found this true.' 
 
 p. 293, 1. 3. MS.] Conspircy. 
 
 p. 294, 1. 1. The index adds] written very young. 1. 27] blank. 
 
 p. 298, 1. 1. A verse of this is preserved in the Brit. Mus. Add. MS. 
 30^03, where it is entitled 'A Song in praise of the Spring.' The Longleat 
 MS. adds 'April 30, 1686. Set by Mr. Turner.' 1. 6. P.M.] Joy and 
 
 Glory of our sight ! 1. 7. B. M.] in thy posting. 1.8. B.M.] too swift 
 
 flying course. 1. 9. B.M.] Protect thy blossoms. 1. 10. B.M.] 
 
 Augment & still prolong. 1. 11. 15. M.] For oh we cannot wish. 1. 12. 
 
 B.M.] Tho Summer with her. 
 
 p. 299, 11. 1 ff. Cf. The Second Part of Miscellany Poems... The Fifth 
 Edition, London. ..Tonson...MDCCXXVII., p. 94, and earlier editions. 
 
 p. 302, 11. 25 — 28] these 11. are crossed out in the MS. and probably got into 
 the transcript by error. 
 
 p- 3°3, 1- 34] 'stinking' is crossed out in the transcript and •filthy' substituted. 
 
 P- 3°5i 1- '• Titles in square brackets are mine. The fragment proceeds: 
 'Your writing to me I dare not thank You for that were to undervalue it, It 
 shall be the business of my life to acknowledge as it has been the honor of it to 
 have received so great a favor. I deferr'd writing too well knowing my own 
 inabilities to perform your Lordr* Commands. Alas, my Lord, we have little 
 Wit stirring at London (but what Harry Pain has brought up for the Dissenters) 
 or if there were a Distribution made, so little would fall to my share, that it 
 would scarse be worth the sending.' 
 
 The - Harry Pain' is probably Henry Neville Payne. 
 
 P- 3°5» '• 18. Alternative reading rejected in Ms.] You write so that. 
 
 1. 27. Alt, reading] Tho I dont fancy an. 
 
 399
 
 NOTES 
 
 p. 306, 11. 25 — 30. Alt. reading] 
 
 Our vice & error chiefly spring from this 
 Not that we want but use our Parts amiss. 
 *Not Two in Twenty their own Talent know, 
 The Ox would champ the bitt, the War-horse plow, 
 The Coward Sieges and Campaigns recites, 
 The Cripple dances and the Coxcomb writes. 
 There is a note to these last four lines as follows : ' I was very Young when I 
 wrote these 4* Verses in a Copy lost.' 
 
 p. 307, I. 30. Alt. reading] Who fain wou'd. 
 p. 309, 11. 1 ff.] dated 1689. 1. 33. MS.] safe. 
 
 p. 310, 11. 1 ff. Printed in Poems on Affairs of State, Vol. iii., 1704. 
 I have followed the text of the printed version and supplied, in square brackets, 
 a few words from the Longleat MS. 
 
 p. 311, 1. 6] the line in State Poems reads ' Queen has an Open too.' 
 
 p. 313, 1. 15. MS.] Vitory. 
 p. 314, 1. 19. MS.] Cceclia. 
 
 P- 3*5) I. 11] a comma has been taken away after earliest. 1. 26. MS.] 
 
 mentain. 
 
 p. 316, 11. 18 ff. This poem was printed in Poems on Affairs of State, 
 Vol. ii. 1703. In the index of the volume of State Poems the lines are stated 
 
 to be 'written by the Lord J s.' A copy at Longleat reads: Whose Tears 
 
 and... One pick'd his... wou'd Both... the Parish... And that he wanted Sense 
 as... William... And much... and They tugg. 
 
 p. 317, 11. 1 ff. This poem was printed in Poems on Affairs of State, Vol. iii., 
 1704. The text agrees with that of the Longleat MS. 
 p. 318, 1. 10. Alt. reading] towring abodes, 
 p. 321, 1. 6. MS.] pier'd. 11. 14—17- AlL reading] 
 Far as the East and West extended goes, 
 Far as light Glitters, far as matter flows, 
 All beings have a certain Space to run. 
 p. 322, 11. ii ff. The MS. states that the original of these verses were 
 made by 'Theobald the fourth Comte of Champaign called Le faiseur de 
 Chansons,' ' to Blanche the Wife of Loiiis the VIII. King of France in 1200... 
 Vide the Chansons du Roy de Navarre.' 11. 19 ff.] entitled ' Fragment ' 
 
 in MS. 1. 24] quotation marks have been added after horse, 
 p. 324, 1. 9. MS.] ought. 
 p. 325, 1. 23. MS.] You. 
 p. 327, 11. 16 — 19] crossed out in the MS. 
 
 p. 329, 11. 25—28] these lines are crossed out. 1. 29. Alt. reading] e'er 
 with serious. 
 
 P- 33 ** 1- 19] blank. 
 
 p. 332, 1. 12. Alt. reading] So by the Aid. 
 
 P- 333. 1- 27- Alt. reading] to sigh her Chains. 11. 15 ff. These frag- 
 
 ments are given to show Prior's poems in the making. At end of 1. 4 on p. 334 
 the couplet ' Far as the nymph,' etc., is repeated, with ' feel ' or ' sigh ' altered 
 to 'own.' Lines 5 — 12 of the preceding fragments are crossed out in the 
 transcript. 
 
 4OO
 
 NOTES 
 
 P- 335> I'. 22 and 24. .-///. reading\ 
 
 Having the Mothers charms confest 
 I to The Daughters next Addrest. 
 
 P- 336, 1. 9] blank. 1. 17. MS.] Jane. 1. 26. Alt. reading] Dear 
 
 Curl. 1. 29. Alt. reading} and from Physic. 11. 25 — 28] the position of 
 
 this verse is queried in the MS. volume. 
 
 P- 337> 11- 8 IT. Additional titles} Poetry & Painting. The pride of Babel. 
 
 p. 338, 11. 10 and 20] full-points have been added. The prologue is dated 
 Feb. 1 7 19. 
 
 p. 340, 1. 22. MS.] ought. 
 
 p. 342, 11. 5 etc. The MS. is marked ' Imperfect.' Brackets have been 
 added in 11. 6 and 7, and 15. Full-points have been added at the end of 
 11. 9, 14, 24, 37. A colon has been inserted after ' Talk'd ' in 1. 17. 1. 30. 
 
 MS.] Of. 
 
 p. 344, 1. 25. MS.] ought. 1. 27] a comma has been added after be. 
 
 The fragments I have given are, perhaps, sufficient to show the nature 
 of Prior's attempt 'in the Ancient Guise.' Further fragments, more or less 
 imperfect, are extant, and it may be worth while to preserve the following. 
 Some, it will be seen, are alternative lines to those already printed. 
 
 Noble his race, his breeding & behaviour 
 Liberal, tho large his Lands his Mind much larger. 
 By humble Suit by Service or by lure 
 For Nature made all Women to be won. 
 
 Strange Sex, that wou'd be Woed 
 Refusing to be won. 
 
 Poor Frederic trembling heard her speech his Eye 
 Downcast endeavor'd to conceal yet told 
 His inward woe. 
 
 'Till now too late two points he saw delude 
 His love unprosperous & his nun certain. 
 She said, and kneeling he embrac'd her knees 
 And taking with respectful Awe her hand 
 Kissed it, unable to express his Joy 
 And impotent of Speech. 
 Where nor the care of Fig-tree or the Vine 
 Torn from their branches are the largest Clusters 
 And heap'd the Basket with abundant fruits 
 That she may chuse the ripest : Fred'ric fear'd 
 Least none be ripe enough. 
 
 Thus speaking on the Perch he Spyes his Hawk 
 Siezes the bird and sudden wrings his neck 
 Then flinging it to Thestylis enjoins her 
 So in the Dressing to desguise the Meat 
 That Clitia while She eats may not descern it. 
 Runs Thestylis She bids her Master come 
 Horsemen were in the Court, the Coach was stop't 
 And Clitia just alighted with surprise 
 With Joy with fear divided Frederics heart : 
 He came he saw he Welcom'd her, he sigh'd. 
 
 p. 11. cc 401
 
 NOTES 
 
 Now alas nor Bird have I nor Clitia 
 Nor shal have : short he stopt, compos'd his look 
 And charg'd his Manhood to conceal his grief. 
 He said, and from his Tongue persuasive Venus 
 Great harbinger and friend of Love shot forth 
 Propitious; but she the God, the God himself 
 On the Youths thoughtful modest flaming Eye 
 Elate from out his fiery Quiver lanc'd 
 The chosen beam transfixing Clitia's heart, 
 p. 345, 11. i ff. I am indebted to Mr Dunn, of the University Library, 
 Cambridge, for the transcript of this poem. 1. 20. MS.] preseve. 
 p. 349, 1. 22. The next fragment is a draft as follows: 
 I was made by God, and am preserved by him, else I shal be annihilated. 
 Whence ill ? 
 
 Calvin says we were all Predestinated. 
 
 The consequences are that we are Machines, that our good Endeavors 
 signify nothing. 
 
 Yet the Apostle says we are Clay in the hands of the Potter. 
 That Argument Answered Man & Inanimate being compared. 
 The Solution of this Doubt that God foresaw & permitted which is just the 
 same as if he Predestinated. 
 11. 24 — 26] crossed out in the MS. 1. 33. MS.] chose. 
 
 p. 350, 1. 1. I have added] the. 1. 19. Alt. reading] This highest link 
 
 of this perpetual chain. 
 
 p. 351, 11. 17 and 20] marks of interrogation have been added. 1. 26] a 
 
 comma has been added after Earth. 
 
 P- 353> 1- 2 ] a colon has been added. 1. 13] a comma has been added 
 
 after requir'd and a colon after Obey'd. 1. 17] a full-point has been added. 
 
 I. 19] a mark of interrogation has been added. 1. 27] a full-point has been 
 added. 
 
 P- 354) lh 7 ar >d 9] full-points have been added. 1. 31] a semi-colon has 
 
 been added. 
 
 p. 355, 11. 1 — 5. There are several folios among the Longleat papers of 
 'Minutes for a Tragedy' to be entitled 'Britanicus,' but the draft is too 
 imperfect to be printed. I have included these four lines mainly to put on 
 record that such a poem was contemplated by Prior. The MSS. also include a 
 long 'Argument of Ladislaus,' another 'Tragedy,' and many fragmentary 
 ' Observations on Homer and Ovid,' of the nature of note-book entries. 
 
 II. 6 ff. To these French scraps may be added the lines given by Mitford 
 in his edition of Prior, 1835, Vol. i. p. xviii. 'In a French company, when 
 everyone sang a little song or stanzas, of which the burden was given — 
 Banissons la melancolie, — when it came to his turn to sing, after the per- 
 formance of a young lady, he produced these extemporary and elegant lines : 
 
 Mais cette voix, et ces beaux yeux 
 Font Cupidon trop dangereux, 
 Et je suis triste quand je crie 
 Banissons la melancolie.' 
 p. 356, 11. 10 ff.] Dated ' W. Dec. 1720.' 
 
 p. 357, 11. 5 — 8. These four lines were printed in the Aldine edition of 
 Prior. I have printed them as they appear in the Longleat fragments. 
 11. 9 and 11. MS.] Phyche. 1. 17. MS.] forsooth. 1. 27. MS.] shews. 
 
 402
 
 NOTES 
 
 It may be worth while to preserve the following additional fragment here : 
 And I was last Year a Ladys Page 
 
 send her Letter in a riper Age 
 When I in fact shal Act Siphax part 
 Let ev'ry fair Leandra guard her heart. 
 p. 358, 11. 14 and 16] full-points have been added. 
 P- 359i b 9- MS.] ought. 
 
 p. 360. An earlier draft shows the following variants : b 14] Milk too, and. 
 P- 361, b 3] Her Manner S til... mind still the. 1. 24] Tho the blew. ..still 
 the. 1. 28] a nice trim. 1. 30] She [defective] the Cocquet and she laught 
 at the. 
 
 p. 362, 1. 2] Was always most humoured, as most. 1. 18] And in points. 
 1. 10] And in points of Divinity adher'd. b a»] So suppressing her scruples 
 
 she frankly believ'd. 1. 31] and she workt, while she pay'd. 
 
 p. 363, 1. 1] her botles (?) nor. 1. 4] all ye Prophane. 1. 5] Ye that. 
 
 I. 7] But ye that place Love. I. 16] If like me you should weep and should 
 
 set up a stone. 1. 18] Friend your Misfortune. 
 The following three verses are crossed out : 
 
 With her Parrot and Dog on the sides of her bed 
 With the key of the Cellar close under her head 
 
 Here J lyes extended as if she were Dead. 
 
 ****** 
 And when that Day comes since no more can be done Her 
 Than to take a due Care of her Corps & her Honour 
 Lest unsanctify'd Hands or 111 tongues light upon Her. 
 ****** 
 
 If a little beforehand her praises I mention 
 My (?) you'll ascribe to my pious intention 
 Good Doctors give Physic by way of Prevention, 
 p. 363. The following fragments are all from the Longleat Prior MSS. and 
 seem worthy of preservation here. The first fragments show Prior practising, 
 the second and third are items selected from similar notes of too slight a nature 
 to accompany them, and the three documents that follow are of too characteristic 
 a nature to remain in oblivion. 
 
 (1) Thus the fair Vine with greatest Plenty crown'd 
 Enclines her head stil neartst to the ground 
 While with her gifts She joys the neighb'ring Swains 
 And scatters blessings on the distant Plains 
 The heave'nly modesty that adorns her brows 
 Doubly inriches what her hand bestows. 
 So the fair Vine with richest Vintage crown'd 
 When most she gives bows nearest to the ground 
 So the fair Rose tree lowest bears her head 
 When the full flowers hang thickest round her head 
 When to her Gifts she calls the neighb'ring Swains 
 And scatters Odor on the distant Plains. 
 With grateful blush She calls the chearful Swain 
 And humble Scatters Plenty thro the Plain. 
 Thus the fair Rose tree when her blossoms spread 
 Their fullest Gifts, enclines her lovely head. 
 
 CC 2 403
 
 NOTES 
 
 Thus when the Vine looks nearer to the ground 
 With swelling Vintage her rich brows are crown'd. 
 Thus the rich Vine with swelling Vintage crown'd 
 \\ith humble grace bows nearer to the ground. 
 (2) I read Horace & Virgil above Forty Vears, but I never understood 
 two passages of them till I saw Down. 
 Horace. O rus! quando ego Te aspiciam quandoq; Licebit 
 
 Ducere Sollicitae jucunda oblivia vitae. 
 Virgil. Oh ! qui Me gelidis submontibus Emi 
 
 Sistat et ingenti ramorum protegat umbra? 
 
 (3) Painting. 
 
 It is not enough to have Eyes, You must have understanding also, and in 
 proportion to that understanding the pleasure you have from seeing the picture 
 is augmented. 
 
 If any man views the Copernican System upon paper he takes notice only 
 of so many Circles that compose one great Scroll, as he apprehends it more 
 distinctly he will more particularly admire it, and when he is Master of it, He 
 will wonder how it came into the Wit of Man to invent it ; The like in Painting, 
 an ignorant Person sees Men, Women, or Animals, Buildings or Landscapes, 
 and contents himself by thinking these things thus painted resemble what he 
 has seen in the World. As he remarks more difference in these Representations, 
 he begins to reflect how far one Painter exceeds another, and as he grows up to 
 a fuller knowledge, and examines more studiously the beauties of the design, 
 the disposition, and the colouring, he falls into admiration that it should be in 
 the Wit or power of Man to draw these lights and shades forth from a flat 
 ground, and to raise a little Creation from a poor piece of wood or an extended 
 canvas. 
 
 To S r : Humphry Poles worth. 
 
 May, the 13 th 17 12. 
 Look You S r : Humphry, as to the Promissory circumstances of our 
 repairing, I cannot be upon the Catagorical for Friday; In case therefore 
 that You correspond with Steny upon the Premises of that accidental, pray 
 don't precipitate nor be a Fixer : I tip You this wink accordingly, that you 
 may rather improve the point to an occasional prevention than otherwise, for as 
 I am no specious Gilder but a downright under-flanker I shou'd deserve to be 
 Chop't most damnably by You if from any omission, that is to say, of mine you 
 shou'd happen to be Nebust; &; This if Your Cogitation lies never so little 
 towards the mature you will easily smoke to be Explicit, which is the necessary 
 from, 
 
 S r :, 
 
 Your old Corresponder & 
 customary Friend, 
 
 MATTHEW. 
 
 Know all Men by these Presents that I Matthew Prior of the Parish of 
 S': Margaret Westminster, Do for several weighty considerations me thereunto 
 moving make over Consign and give up to Ovinton of Wimple in Cam- 
 bridge-shire, Esq r : His Heirs Administrators and Assigns the Person and Body 
 of one damned, lame, blood-roan, farcy, good for nothing Horse, for the use 
 and behalf of the Hounds of my good Friend the Right Honorable the Lord 
 Harley, And I do freely and of my own motion make a Present to the said 
 Lords Hunts-man of the Skin and Shoes of the abovenamed Horse, Desiring 
 
 404
 
 NOTES 
 
 and Impowering the said Ovinton, Esq r : to Execute this my Letter of 
 
 Attomy in as due and ample form as if I my self were Present. In Witness 
 whereof I set my hand and Seal this Eighteenth Day of September 1718. 
 
 M. PRIOR. 
 
 Witness 
 Adrian Drift. 
 
 John Rowland Groom ^ his mark. 
 Timothy Hobnail Farrier ^ his mark. 
 
 Advertisement. 
 Supposed Straying, as at Grass in the Fields or Meadows near Wimpolc in 
 Cambridgeshire, a Horse about 13 hand high, formerly Gray, now turning upon 
 the White, consequently no mark in his Mouth, his Name Ralpho, or according 
 to the Vulgar Ralph : Who ever brings him to M r : Ovinton, or in his absence 
 to Thomas the Groom, at the House or Stables of the Right Honorable the 
 Lord Harley in Dover-Street, Or, to M r : Prior in Duke Street, Westminster, 
 Shal have a Guinea reward, and no Questions asked; Fxcepting only what 
 OUght to be Excepted, that if the said White Ralpho shal be found in the 
 Comp a : of an Ancient but unhappy Friend of his called Blood-roan, Condemned 
 some Months since to the said Lords Dogs, who daily expect and bark for the 
 Execution of that Sentence; In this case who ever gives Notice of, or produces 
 the said Ralpho, shal only have & receive for his Reward, One Shilling, One 
 Sprig of Rosemary, and One pint of burnt Claret. 
 
 KB. The Supposed Proprietor of the above named Ralpho is very 
 desirous to know where he is, and how he does, This being the 
 Season of the Year in which Old Men peep out upon White Horses, 
 p. 364, 11. 3 fT.] from the MS. in St John's College Library. 
 p. 366. From a copy in the possession of Mr T. J. Wise. ' London: Sold 
 by T. Bickerton at the Crown in Pater-Noster-Row.' 
 
 p. 368. From a copy in the possession of Mr T. J. Wise. ' The Fable of 
 the Lyon and the Fox. London, Printed in the Year 1712. and Sold by the 
 Booksellers. Price id.' 
 
 The above seem to me to be by Prior. Mr Wise informs me that he bought 
 both as Prior's on the advice of Dr Garnett. 
 
 p. 370. This Epistle was published separately in folio in 1706 under the 
 following title. There is a copy in the collection of Mr T. J. Wise, who has 
 kindly allowed me to reproduce, as follows, the preliminary letter, and the 
 poem that follows the Epistle, in the folio. 
 
 an I EPISTLE I from the | Elector of Bavaria | TO the | FRENCH 
 KING : J after the | BATTEL of R A MILLIES. 
 
 Triste pet is mumts: outs enim sua pr alia vietus 
 Commemorare velit ? re/cram (amen online, nee tarn 
 Turpe fuit vinci, quam eontendisse decorum ; 
 Magnaquc dat nobis Tantus solatia VICTOR. 
 
 Ovid Metam. Lib. 9. 
 LONDON: | Printed for Jacob Tonson, within Grays-Inn Gate next | Grays- 
 Inn Lane. 1706. 
 
 To the Right Honourable | WILLIAM COWPER, Esq; | LORD 
 KEEPER I OF the I GREAT-SEAL | OF | ENGLAND. 
 MY LORD, 
 
 None of the Profession, over which Your Lordship presides, ought to 
 appear in Verse, without asking Pardon of Your Lordship for the Transgression. 
 
 405
 
 NOTES 
 
 (h'id, whose Manner of Writing I have Endeavour'd to Imitate, was Censur'd 
 by some of his Friends for leaving the Study of the Laws for that of Toetry ; 
 but I hope the Subject of the following Poem, and the Example of Your Lord- 
 ship, as well as of the Greatest Men of this present Age, who have Condescended 
 to be admir'd for these Sort of Productions, will sufficiently Defend me from 
 any Reproaches of this Kind. The most Eminent for their Application to 
 Business have sometimes employ'd their Vacant Hours in these Diversions: 
 And those who have the Honour to Attend Your Lordship's Court will find 
 Leisure enough to Exercise themselves in Poetry, if Your Lordship Continues 
 to Determine Causes with the same Expedition with which You have hitherto 
 proceeded. 
 
 Our General has not Signaliz'd himself more in the Field, than Your 
 Lordship has done in the Courts of Justice. The Injur'd and the Oppress'd 
 have been remarkably Reliev'd in both Places; and if in the One Towns have 
 been Taken in a few Days that have been thought Impregnable, in the Other 
 Controversies have been Decided in a few Hours that have formerly been look'd 
 upon as the Work of Ages. 
 
 But the Publick Administration of Justice, and those Extraordinary 
 Qualifications, with which Your Lordship so Eminently Adorns Your High 
 Station, are everywhere Admir'd and Celebrated. Before a Performance of 
 this Nature, it might be more proper to take Notice of the great Insight Your 
 Lordship is allow'd to have in all the Politer Parts of Learning. As in other 
 Respects Your Lordship falls short of none of Your Predecessors, so in this You 
 shall be Deservedly Nam'd with Sir Thomas More, my Lord Verulam, and 
 what is a far greater Honour, my Lord Sommers. This Particular Accomplish- 
 ment of Your Lordship, would Discourage me from Offering You this Trifle, if 
 I were not less Ambitious of gaining Your Applause, than of shewing my self, 
 
 MY LORD, 
 
 Your Lordship's 
 
 Most Dutiful, and 
 Most Obedient 
 
 Humble Servant. 
 
 TO THE 
 
 DUKE 
 
 OF 
 
 MARLBOROUGH. 
 
 Pardon, Great Duke, if Britain's Stile delights; 
 
 Or if th' Imperial Title more invites, 
 
 Pardon, Great Prince, the Failings of a Muse, 
 
 That dares not hope for more than Your Excuse, 
 
 Forc'd at a Distance to attempt Your Praise, 
 
 And Sing Your Victories in Mournful Lays, 
 
 To cast in Shadows, and allay the Light, 
 
 That Wounds, with nearer Rays, the dazled Sight, 
 
 Nor durst in a direct and open Strain 
 
 Such Acts, with her unhallow'd Notes, prophane : 
 
 In tow'ring Verse let meaner Heroes grow, 
 
 And to Elab'rate Lines their Greatness owe; 
 
 Your Actions, own'd by ev'ry Nation, want 
 
 Praises, no greater than a Foe may grant. 
 
 Oh ! when shall Europe, by her Marlbro's Sword, 
 To lasting Peace and Liberty restor'd, 
 Allow her weary Champion a Retreat, 
 To his lov'd Country and his rising Seat? 
 
 406
 
 NOTES 
 
 Where your soft Part'ner, far from Martial Noise, 
 Your Cares shall sweeten with Domestick Joys : 
 Your Conquests she with doubtful Pleasure hears, 
 And in the midst of Ev'ry Triumph fears; 
 Betwixt her Queen and You divides her Life, 
 A Friend Obsequious, and a Faithful Wife. 
 
 Hail Woodstock \ Hail ye Celebrated Glades! 
 Grow fast ye Woods, and flourish thick ye Shades! 
 Ye rising Tow'rs for your new Lord prepare, 
 Like your old Henry come from Gallia's War 
 The Gen'rals Arms as far the King's o'erpow'r, 
 As this new Structure does surpass the Bow'r. 
 
 The Pleasing Prospects and Romantick Site, 
 The Spacious Compass, and the Stately Height; 
 The painted Gardens, in their flow'ry Prime, 
 Demand whole Volumes of Immortal Rhime, 
 And if the Muse would second the Design, 
 Mean, as they are, should in my Numbers shine. 
 There live, the Joy and Wonder of our Isles, 
 Happy in Albion's Love and JJVJVA's Smiles. 
 
 While from the Godlike Race of Churchill born, 
 Four beauteous Rosamonds this Bow'r adorn, 
 Who with the ancient Syren of the Place, 
 In Charms might vie and ev'ry blooming Grace; 
 But bless'd with equal Virtues had she been, 
 Like them she had been Favour'd by the QUEEN, 
 Whom your high Merit, and their own, prefers 
 To all the worthiest Beds of England's Peers. 
 
 Thus the Great Eagle, when Heav'n's Wars are o'er, 
 And the loud Thunder has forgot to rore, 
 Jove's Fires laid by, with those of Venus burns, 
 To his forsaken Mate and Shades returns; 
 On some proud Tree, more Sacred than the rest, 
 With curious Art he Builds his spacious Nest; 
 In the warm Sun lyes Basking all the Day, 
 While round their Sire the gen'rous Eaglets play; 
 Their Sire, well-pleas'd to see the Noble Brood, 
 Fill all the Loftiest Cedars of the Wood. 
 
 FINIS. 
 
 The text printed is from 'A Collection of Poems in Six Volumes. By 
 Several Hands. London: Printed by J. Hughs, For R. and J. Dodsley, at 
 Tully's-Dead in Pall Mall. M.DCC.LVIII.' This also seems to me to be 
 Prior's. Mr Wise tells me that it was identified as Prior's by Birkbeck Hill. 
 1.8. Folio] If all. 1. ii. misprints] wire. 
 
 p. 371, 1. 5. Folio] to this. 
 
 p. 376, 11. 11,31, 3-2] Exclamation marks have been substitute*! for marks of 
 interrogation. 
 
 407
 
 NOTES 
 
 p. 378. Printed from ' Oxford and Cambridge Miscellany Poems... London : 
 Printed for Bernard Lintott, at the Cross-Keys, between the Two Temple- 
 Gates, in Fleet-street.' (?i7o8.) They were first attributed to Prior by J. 
 Nichols in 'A Select Collection of Poems... Red Lion Passage, Fleet Street, 
 MDCCLXXX.' 
 
 They follow immediately after ' A Simile. By Mr. P r.' in Lintott's 
 
 volume and before ' Sanazarius on Venice. English 'd by Mr. Hopkins.' It may 
 be part of the arrangement of Lintott's volume to put pieces by the same author 
 together, even when he does not repeat the phrase By the same or By the same 
 Hand. There is some slight evidence of this, but by no means sufficient to 
 justify certain attribution. My copy of the Oxford and Cambridge volume 
 belonged to John Boyle, fifth Earl of Cork and Orrery, whose signature it 
 contains (dated November 25th, 1 7 5 1 ) , and who has written opposite the Simile 
 'by M. Prior. Esq. To Tom Southerne.' The Simile will be found in the 
 first volume of the present edition, p. 134. 
 
 p. 380. Printed from a copy in the possession of Mr T. J. Wise. 
 ' London : Printed for A. Baldwin, in Warwick-lane. Price Two Pence.' 
 
 p. 382. Mr T. J. Wise has very kindly collated the Fable of the Widow and 
 Her Cat for me with his copy of the original folio. 
 
 These two poems also were first printed as ' probably ' Prior's by Nichols, 
 whose emendations are in square brackets, and who says ' The hints of this and 
 the next [i.e. The Widow, etc.] appear to have originated from The Fable of 
 the Old Lady & Her Cats, printed in the General Postscript, Nov. 7, 1709. 
 They have both been ascribed to Dr. Swift.' And of The Widow, etc., Nichols 
 says ' In Tindal's Continuation of Rapin XVII. 454, this fable is said to be by 
 Prior or Swift. In Boyer's " Political State" 1720, p. 519, where it is applied 
 to the Duke of Marlborough, it is said to be by Swift or Prior.' I have spent 
 much time, and my friend Mr G. A. Brown has spent more, in endeavouring to 
 find fresh evidence, but the search has proved fruitless. 
 
 p. 384. This paraphrase is printed among the poems of Dorset by Johnson. 
 I have taken the text from Dryden's Miscellany Poems, Part 3. Its attribution 
 to Prior by previous editors, following Nichols, explains its presence here. 
 The following poems, among many others, have been attributed to Prior : 
 
 A Law against Cuckoldom. 1700. 
 
 The Shoe-Maker Beyond his Last. 1700. 
 
 The Virtuous Wife. 1700. 
 
 Wedlock a Paradise. 1701. 
 
 The Character of a Covetous Citizen. 1702. 
 
 The Lawyer Turn'd Butcher. 1702. 
 
 The Perquisite-Monger. 1712. 
 
 Yarhell's Kitchen. 17 13. 
 
 The Rape. An Epistolary Poem. 1714. 
 
 To his Grace the Duke of Argyll. 1716. 
 
 To the Knight of the Sable Shield. 17 16. 
 
 Austin, and the Monks of Bangor. 17 18. 
 
 The Enjoyment. 1719. 
 
 The Silent Flute. 1729. 
 
 The Statues: or, the trial of Constancy. 1739. 
 
 408
 
 INDEX OF TITLES 
 
 Absence, On, To Leonora 141 
 Advice of Venus, The 116 
 Advice to a Lady 164 
 Advice to the Painter 289 
 Against Modesty in Love 378 
 Alma, Fragments for 325 
 Amaryllis 135 
 Antique Lamp, Engraven On Three 
 
 Sides of an 146 
 Apology to a Lady, An, etc. 378 
 Aristotle, The World was 200 Year 
 
 in the Dark following 328 
 Arria and Petus out of Martial 282 
 Atterbury, Epigram on Bishop 172 
 Atterbury's burying the Duke of 
 
 Buckingham, On Bishop 172 
 
 Ballad 319 
 
 Beauty 333 
 
 Bibo, An Epigram no 
 
 Birthday, On My 176 
 
 Boccace, Prelude to a Tale from 339 
 
 Bray, The Vicar of, and Sir Thomas 
 
 Moor, A Dialogue between 247 
 Britanicus, Fragment from 355 
 Britton, Tom, Lines written under 
 
 the print of 173 
 
 Caelia 314 
 
 [Caelia] The same varied 314 
 
 Caermarthen, On the Marchioness 
 
 of 334 
 
 Case Stated, A 128 
 
 Cautious Alice 125 
 
 Celia, To 145 
 
 Charity never faileth, 1 Cor. xiii. 8 
 274 
 
 Charles the Emperour and Clenard 
 the Grammarian, A Dialogue be- 
 tween 207 
 
 Chast Florimel 118 
 
 Child of Quality, To a 85 
 
 Chit Chat, A Prologue intended to 
 
 the Play of, etc. 338 
 Cloe, To, 355 
 Colin's Mistakes 80 
 Considerations on part of the 88th 
 
 Psalm 83 
 Consummation 88 
 Conversation, The 77 
 Copt-Hall, Journey to 287 
 Coronation, On the 279 
 Courtier, The 332 
 Coy Jenny 144 
 Cromwell, Oliver, and his Porter, 
 
 A Dialogue between 262 
 Cupid in Ambush 1 1 1 
 Cupid's Promise. Paraphrased 138 
 Cupid turned Plowman 1 1 7 
 Cupid turned Stroller 90 
 Curious Maid, An Answer to the 366 
 
 D., To the E. of, upon His Marriage 
 
 283 
 Daphne and Apollo 91 
 Delia's Play, Prologue for 134 
 Doctors Differ, An Epigram 124 
 Dorset, P'rom a Letter To The Earl 
 
 of 364 
 Dorset, To the Countess of, walking 
 
 in a Garden 282 
 Dorset, To the E. of, on the Birth of 
 
 His Son 295 
 Down- Hall 70 
 Down-Hall, Fragments Written At 
 
 3*4 
 
 Elector of Bavaria to the French 
 King, An Epistle from the, etc 
 
 409
 
 INDEX OF TITLES 
 
 Enigma, An 89 
 Enigma, An 127 
 Epigram 175 
 Epigram 355 
 Epigram Extempore 171 
 Epistle, An 174 
 Epistle, Another 174 
 Epistle to Lord — 305 
 Epitaph Extempore 57 
 Examiner, The, N° 6 147 
 Exeter, To My Lady 309 
 
 F...., To Dr, in a Letter to Beverley, 
 
 etc. 304 
 Fable, A 87 
 Fable, A 316 
 
 The Moral 316 
 Fart, On a, let in the House of 
 
 Commons 113 
 Female Phaeton, The 33 
 Female Phaeton, Answer to the 335 
 Florimel, To 330 
 Fortune-Teller, The 88 
 Fortune, To 1 18 
 Fragments 328 
 Fragments 333 
 [Fragments in Prose and Verse] 
 
 356 
 French, A Paraphrase on the 384 
 French Song, A 128 
 French, Translated from the Original 
 
 322 
 Friend on his Marriage, To a 301 
 Friend, Upon a, who had A Pain 
 
 in his Left-Side 145 
 
 Gabriel and his Wives, An Epigram 
 1 10 
 
 Glanville Gilbert, Bishop of Ro- 
 chester, Epitaph upon 356 
 
 God is Love 294 
 
 Hall's Death, On. An Epigram 114 
 Harley, To My Lord, extempore 
 
 130 
 Harley, Verses Spoke to the Lady 
 
 Henrietta-Cavendish Holies, In the 
 
 Library of St. John's College, 
 
 Cambridge 75 
 Harley, A Letter To The Honourable 
 
 Lady Miss Margaret-Cavendish- 
 
 Holles- 131 
 Hind and the Panther transvers'd To 
 
 410 
 
 the Story of The Country-Mouse 
 
 and the City- Mouse, The 1 
 Honour, Upon. A Fragment 122 
 Horace, An Ode, In Imitation of the 
 
 Second Ode of the Third Book 
 
 of 36 
 Horse of Henry the Fourth of 
 
 France, To the 355 
 Howard, Written under a Picture 
 
 painted by Mr 330 
 Howe's Ovid's Epistles, Written in 
 
 Lady 173 
 Human Life 128 
 Husband and Wife, An Epigram 118 
 
 Incurable, The, An Epigram 123 
 Insatiable Priest, The 124 
 [Inspired Wit] 305 
 
 J..., Letter to 303 
 [Jinny the Just] 360 
 Judgment of Venus, The 34 
 
 K— s Tune, To Mr 313 
 K. P., Not Writing to 281 
 K. P., To Madam, A Pastoral Dia- 
 logue 272 
 
 Lady, To a, given with a Nosegay, 
 
 355 
 Lady Sleeping, To a 274 
 Lamentation for Dorinda 139 
 Learning, An Essay upon 179 
 Leonora, To. Encore 141 
 Les Estreines 163 
 Library, Written in the 364 
 Lock, Mr John, and Seigneur de 
 Montaigne, A Dialogue between, 
 223 
 Lock and Montaigne, Verses In- 
 tended for 323 
 Lyon and The Fox, The 368 
 
 Many Daughters have done well, but 
 
 Thou Excellest them all 278 
 Marlborough, To the Duke of, 406 
 Mary, On the Death of Queen 364 
 Mice, The 97 
 Mistress, Song To his 36 
 Monument, For My own 129 
 
 Namur, On the taking of 84 
 Nannette 112
 
 INDEX OF TITLES 
 
 Narcissus 334 
 
 Nell and John, An Epigram no 
 
 Nelly's Picture [33 
 
 New- Year's Gift to Phyllis, The 143 
 
 Non Pareil, In Praise of Phyllis 121 
 
 Old Gentry, The 122 
 Opinion, An Essay upon 189 
 Orange [Answer to An] 310 
 Orphan, Prologue to the 76 
 
 Painter, To a 337 
 
 Painting 403 
 
 Partial Fame 120 
 
 Parting with Flavia 15; 
 
 Phillis, To 155 
 
 Playing at Ombre with Two Ladies, 
 
 Upon 175 
 Poet of Quality, To a 126 
 Pontius and Pontia 124 
 Prater, The, An Epigram 126 
 Predestination, A Poem 345 
 Pretty Madwoman, On a 142 
 Priest and the Shepherd, The. An 
 
 Imitation of a Greek Epigram 
 
 fI 3 
 
 Prometheus. An Epigram 114 
 
 [Prophecy, A] 318 
 
 [Reality and Image] 322 
 
 Remedy Worse than the Disease, 
 
 The 171 
 Richard and Nelly, An Epigram in 
 Riddles, Two 86 
 
 Rochester, To the Bishop of 203 
 Ronsard's Franciade, From 356 
 
 Satire on the Modern Translators, 
 
 A 47 
 Satire upon the Poets, in Imitation 
 
 of the Seventh Satire of Juvenal, A 
 
 52 
 Scaligeriana, Upon this passage in 
 
 109 
 [Secretary, The] Written at the 
 
 1 [ague 96 
 Seneca, Troas, Act 2 d 32 1 
 Sosion of the Poets, A 299 
 Shephards, On M r Fleetwood, Killing 
 
 the French K. 288 
 
 Sheppard, An Epistle to Sir Fleet- 
 wood 45 
 
 Silvia, An Epigram 1 1 1 
 
 Simile 332 
 
 Snuff 9r 
 
 Song 359 
 
 Song, A, set by Mr Abel -7 
 
 Song, A, set by Mr Parcel 120 
 
 Song Set by M r K. 312 
 
 Song Set by Mess 18 Pickering and 
 Tudway 312 
 
 Songs, Twenty-Four 153 
 
 .Spring, A Hymn to the 298 
 
 Standing-Army, A new Answer to 
 an Argument against a 317 
 
 There be Those that leave Their 
 
 Names behind them 276 
 Torment of Absence, The 143 
 True Statesmen 331 
 True's Epitaph 1 74 
 Truth and Falshood 1 3 1 
 Truth told at Last. An Epigram 127 
 Turner, Dr., A Pastoral to 169 
 Turner, To the Rev. Dr. Francis 168 
 Turtle and the Sparrow, The 58 
 
 Application of the above 69 
 Two Beggars 127 
 Two Part Song, A 158 
 
 Venus, A Hymn to 315 
 Viceroy, The 10 1 
 [Vigour, A Ballad of] 319 
 Villiers house, In a Window in Lord 
 
 337 
 Virgils Georgic 4 verse 511 334 
 
 Wandering Pilgrim, The 114 
 
 Westminster-School, Prologue Spoken 
 by Lord Buckhurst, at 95 
 
 When the Cat's away etc., A Fable 
 380 
 
 Widow and her Cat, A Fable of the 
 382 
 
 Wissin's, To the Right Honourable 
 the Countess Dowager of Devon- 
 shire, on a Piece of 31 
 
 Young Lady's going to Town in the 
 Spring. On a 379 
 
 4 II
 
 INDEX OF FIRST LINES 
 
 A Lady once (so Stories say) 380 
 A less desert may gain a People's 
 
 trust 357 
 A Lyon by his valiant Deeds pre- 
 
 ferr'd 368 
 A milk-white Mouse immortal and 
 
 unchang'd 8 
 A Widow kept a favourite Cat 382 
 Abate, fair fugitive, abate thy speed 9 [ 
 Accept, my love, as true a heart 163 
 All my Endeavours, all my Hopes 
 
 depend 52 
 Almighty Power ! 294 
 Almighty pow'r of Harmony and Love 
 
 315 
 
 And be the Wretch thy Pitty or 
 
 delight 329 
 And giving You both Yea and Nay 
 
 333 
 And I was last Year a Ladys Page 
 
 402 
 And if the Motion by the Sense you 
 
 prove 329 
 Antiquam hanc Lampadem 146 
 Apostles teach, and Holy books 
 
 declare 345 
 As Almoner in Holy Week 335 
 As Doctors give physic by way of 
 
 prevention 129 
 Assist my Cause with Honour, Justice, 
 
 Truth 330 
 At dead of night, when stars appear 
 
 90 
 
 Behind an unfrequented Glade 58 
 Blind Plaintiff, lame Defendant, share 
 
 127 
 Broghil did Cowleys thankful Muse 
 
 commend 358 
 But that of which he was bereft 
 
 328 
 
 412 
 
 By birth I'm a slave, yet can give 
 you a crown 89 
 
 Careless and Young O Florimel 330 
 Cease, Leonora, cease to mourn 141 
 Chamont was absent, and remem- 
 brance brought 301 
 Chloe beauty has and wit 167 
 Come, weep no more, for 'tis in vain 
 153 
 
 Early in Life We learn the Mighty 
 
 Rule 357 
 Even Chast Diana mindless of her 
 
 way 357 
 
 Fair Sylvia, cease to blame my Youth 
 
 378 
 
 Fairest Child of flowing time 298 
 Fame counting thy books, my dear 
 
 Harley, shall tell 364 
 Farewel, Amynta, we must part 162 
 Farevvel ye shady walks, and fountains 
 
 •39 
 
 Fast by the Banks of Cam was Colin 
 
 bred 80 
 For God's-sake — nay, dear Sir 144 
 For instance, when You think You 
 
 see a 322 
 For K-n-tt call'd White, and 
 
 Bu...t Gil. show 333 
 For many unsuccessful Years 378 
 For when your Judge becomes your 
 
 Foe 324 
 Form'd half beneath, and half above 
 
 the earth 127 
 Future time shal say 334 
 
 Gilbertus Glanville whose heart was 
 
 as hard as an Anvil 356 
 Good People, I pray 310
 
 INDEX OF FIRST LINES 
 
 Great God of Time, whose early care 
 
 3°9 
 Great Nassau rise from Beauty ,; 1 .; 
 Grey hairs the blossom of Old age 
 
 appear 333 
 
 Haste my Nannette, my lovely maid 
 
 112 
 Heavy, O Lord, on me thy judgments 
 
 lie 83 
 Her time with equal prudence Silvia 
 
 shares in 
 Heralds, and Statesmen, by your 
 
 leave 57 
 1 lis lamp, his bow, and quiver, laid 
 
 aside 117 
 Honour, I say, or honest Fame 122 
 How long, deluded Albion, wilt thou 
 
 lie 36 
 Howe'er confess'd O Queen of Love 
 
 Thy pow'r 333 
 However high, however cold, the fair 
 
 173 
 
 "I have no hopes," the Duke he 
 
 says, and dies 172 
 I know that Fortune long has wanted 
 
 sight 175 
 1 learn to think no Precept strange 
 
 356 
 I my dear, was born to day 176 
 I Pray, good Lady Harley, let 
 
 Jonathan know 1 74 
 I Pray, Lady Harriot, the time to 
 
 assign 174 
 I saw a Thousand ill look'd foes 
 
 3*9 
 
 I sent for Ratclifte; was so ill 171 
 I Sing not old Jason, who Travell'd 
 
 thro' Greece 70 
 I stood, Sir, patient at your feet 171 
 If absence so much racks my 
 
 Charmer's heart 141 
 If gilded rlaggs and heaps of polish'd 
 
 Stone 276 
 If poets, ere they cloath'd their infant 
 
 thought 168 
 If yet, great Sir, your heart can 
 
 comfort know 370 
 If wit or honesty could save 174 
 I'll have a Dart 329 
 In ^Esop's Tales an honest Wretch 
 
 we find 316 
 
 In foreign Lands my Poetry stands 
 
 dumb 337 
 In Grey-nair'd Gelia's wither'd Anns 
 
 384 
 
 In vain, alas ! poor Strephon tries 
 
 166 
 In Vain by Druggs and rules of Art 
 
 337 
 
 Is it a Truth, or but a well told Lye 
 
 321 
 Is it, O Love, thy want of eyes 157 
 It always has been thought discreet 
 
 77 
 It oft to many has successful been 
 
 1 1 1 
 It was the fate of an unhappy Swain 
 
 135 
 
 Jove once resolv'd (the Females to 
 degrade) 91 
 
 Ladies, to You with pleasure we 
 
 submit 134 
 Lay not the Pain, so near your heart 
 
 145 
 Let others from the town retire 121 
 Let perjur'd fair Aminta know 154 
 Let Reason then her Arts imploy 
 
 358 
 Let Us my Dear my life be Friends 
 
 359 
 
 Like a true Irish Marlin that misses 
 her flight 357 
 
 Lock, wou'd the Human understand- 
 ing show 323 
 
 Lords, knights, and squires, the 
 num'rous band 85 
 
 Love has often threaten 'd War 312 
 
 Love I confess 1 thought Thee but 
 a Name 3 1 2 
 
 Love ! inform thy faithful creature 
 
 159 
 Luke Preach-Ill, admires what we 
 
 laymen can mean 124 
 Lysander talks extremely well 126 
 
 Mais cette voix, et ces beaux yeux 402 
 Meek Francis lies here, friend, without 
 
 stop or stay 172 
 Morella, charming without art 158 
 My little Wid : to you I send 303 
 My Lord there's a Christ'ning the 
 
 Officer said 355 
 
 4*3
 
 INDEX OF FIRST LINES 
 
 My noble, lovely, little Peggy 131 
 
 Nanny blushes when I woo her 163 
 No, I'll endure ten thousand deaths 
 
 118 
 No 'tis in vain; what limits shal 
 
 controll 279 
 Now how shall I do with my love 
 
 and my pride 128 
 Number the sands extended here 364 
 
 O Dear to God and Man O Prince 
 
 approv'd 359 
 O Dearest daughter of two dearest 
 
 friends 69 
 O Death how thou spoil'st the best 
 
 projects of life 1 10 
 O Happy Youth what can destroy 
 
 334 
 
 O with what woes am I opprest 118 
 Odd is the Justice of that Land 328 
 Of Nero, tyrant, petty king 101 
 Of thy judicious Muse's sense 126 
 On yonder Guilty Plain, long Seasons 
 
 hence 356 
 Once I was unconfin'd and free 
 
 160 
 Once on a time, in sun-shine weather 
 
 131 
 
 One commonly talks most when one 
 
 has least to say 333 
 One Night unhappy Celadon 379 
 Our Courtiers traffick for their fame 
 
 332 
 
 Pardon, Great Duke, if Britain's Style 
 
 delights 406 
 Pen, ink, and wax, and paper send 
 
 130 
 Petit Cheval, gentil Cheval 355 
 Phillis, give this humour over 164 
 Phillis, since we have both been kind 
 
 155 
 Phillis, this pious talk give o er 156 
 
 Phillis you boast of perfect health in 
 
 vain 123 
 Pish, lord, I wish this Prologue was 
 
 but Greek 95 
 Pontius, (who loves you know a joke 
 
 124 
 Poor Hall caught his death standing 
 
 under a spout 1 1 4 
 Prometheus forming Mr Day 114 
 
 414 
 
 Quoth Richard in jest, looking wistly 
 at Nelly ri 1 
 
 Reader I was born, and cry'd 113 
 Reading ends in melancholy 87 
 Regards no Judges Frown, nor 
 
 Courtiers fawn 358 
 Releas'd from the noise of the 
 
 Butcher and Baker 360 
 
 Say would'st Thou gain eternal 
 
 Praise 274 
 Says Pontius in rage, contradicting 
 
 his Wife 127 
 See Strephon see what a refulgent 
 
 ray 272 
 Since Anna visited the Muses Seat 
 
 75 
 Since by ill fate I'm fore d away 105 
 Since by just Flames the guilty Piece 
 
 is lost 289 
 Since, Moggy, I mun bid adieu 160 
 Since my words, though ne'er so 
 
 tender 159 
 Since the King like a venterous 
 
 Gamster at Loo 299 
 Since the united Cunning of the 
 
 Stage 47 
 Since we your husband daily see 164 
 So from Divinity and things above 
 
 281 
 So good a Wife doth Lissy make 125 
 So Philomel beneath the Poplar 
 
 shade 334 
 So when the meanest Priest comes 
 
 near the Cell 305 
 Soft Cupid, wanton, am'rous Boy 
 
 138 
 
 Some kind angel, gently flying 161 
 Souviens Toy, Cloe, du destin 355 
 Spare Dorsett's sacred life, decerning 
 
 fate 364 
 Sphinx was a monster that would 
 
 eat 86 
 Stil base to those who meant Thee 
 
 well 325 
 Stil like to keep their fancy up 325 
 Still craving yet stil Roger cry'd 
 
 325 
 Still, Dorinda, I adore 150 
 Still Sleep stil fold those lovely Arms 
 
 274 
 Strephonetta, why d'ye fly me 153
 
 INDEX OF FIRST LINES 
 
 Tell, dear Alexis, tell thy Damon, 
 why 160 
 
 That all from Adam first began 12-2 
 That with much Wealth and large 
 
 encrease, My Lord 305 
 The circling months begin this day 
 
 The Crown once again 319 
 
 The Factions which Each other 
 
 claw 319 
 The Fox an actor's vizard found 87 
 The God of Love was but a Boy 
 
 357 
 
 The joyful Slaves, whom your report 
 
 set free 288 
 The Parties, hen-peckt W m, 
 
 are thy Wives 316 
 The Plowshares now deform the 
 
 martial plain 324 
 The scorching Dogstar and the Suns 
 
 fierce ray 283 
 The sturdy Man if he in love obtains 
 
 120 
 The town which Louis bought, Nas- 
 sau reclaims 84 
 The ugly Beau too partial to his 
 
 Glass 338 
 The worthless Cypher, when alone 
 
 33 * 
 
 There's all Hell in her Heart, and all 
 
 Heaven in her eye 355 
 Thirty Six Miles — too far to walk a 
 
 foot 287 
 Though doom'd to small-coal, yet to 
 
 arts ally'd 173 
 Thus Kitty, Beautiful and Young 33 
 Thus the fair Vine with greatest Plenty 
 
 crown 'd 403 
 Thus to the Muses Spoke the Cyprian- 
 Dame 116 
 Thus wounded and thus spit 329 
 Thy King (O may I call him by 
 
 that Name? 318 
 Thy Muse, O 'Bard ! that Wonders 
 
 tell 366 
 Till great Des-Cart and his Secta- 
 
 tors 328 
 To clear the Brain or purge the 
 
 thought 304 
 To her loose dress She calls some 
 
 foreign Aid 324 
 To make thy Fortune fair Amends 
 
 329 
 
 To Richmond and I'eterburgh, Matt 
 
 gave his letters 1 75 
 Touch the lyre, on every string 166 
 True Statesmen only Love or Hate 
 
 33i 
 
 T'was night, the Drousy Diety be- 
 gan 278 
 
 Two Mice (dear boy) of genteel 
 fashion 97 
 
 Virtue and Love instruct me well 329 
 
 Wake Goddess wake Thy drousy 
 
 Lyre 295 
 We bid the Men stand and deliver 
 
 their Purses 330 
 Well ! 1 will never more complain 167 
 Were Caelia Absent and remem- 
 brance brought 314 
 What a tedious day is past 143 
 What Bocace with superior Genius 
 
 Cloath'd 339 
 What trifling coil do we poor mortals 
 
 keep 128 
 What wou'd my humble Comrades 
 
 have Me say? 76 
 When Bibo thought fit from the 
 
 world to retreat no 
 When Crowding Folks, with strange 
 
 111 Faces 45 
 When hungry wolves had trespass'd 
 
 on the fold 113 
 When Jove lay blest in his Alcmaena's 
 
 charms 88 
 When Kneller's Works of various 
 
 Grace 34 
 When Nell, given o'er by the doctor, 
 
 was dying 1 10 
 When thy fair Soul ascends her 
 
 Native Skys 333 
 When you with High-Dutch Heeren 
 
 dine 109 
 When Willis of Ephraim heard 
 
 Rochester preach 124 
 While mad Ophelia we lament 142 
 While soft She Parly'd with be- 
 coming grace 322 
 While with labour assid'ous due 
 
 pleasure I mix 96 
 Whilst I am scorch'd with hot Desire 
 
 3 6 
 Whilst I in Prison on a Court look 
 
 down 1 1 8 
 
 415
 
 INDEX OF FIRST LINES 
 
 Whilst others proclaim 133 
 Whilst weeping Europe bends be- 
 neath her Ills 148 
 Whither would my passion run 120 
 Who e'er a serious view will take 329 
 Who e'er forsakes Old Mother Church 
 
 356 
 Who would prevail o'er Men must 
 
 first Observe 355 
 Why, Harry, what ails you ? why 
 
 look you so sad? 158 
 W 7 hy thus from the Plain does my 
 
 Shepherdess rove 128 
 Will Piggot must to Coxwould go 
 114 
 
 Wissin and Nature held a long 
 
 Contest 31 
 With humble hopes Your goodness 
 
 will excuse 293 
 With Roman constancy and decent 
 
 pride 282 
 Would they who have nine years 
 
 look'd sour 317 
 
 Yes I did stubernly believe 282 
 Yet Distanc'd and Undone by those 
 
 You, Madam, may with safety go 88 
 You need not thus so often pray 145 
 
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