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His very Minister who fpy'd them first,

(Some fay his Queen,) was forc'd to speak, or burft. And is not mine, my friend, a forer cafe,

When ev'ry coxcomb perks them in my face?

A. Good friend, forbear! you deal in dang'rous


I'd never name Queens, Minifters, or Kings;

Keep close to Ears, and those let affes prick,
'Tis nothing-P. Nothing? if they bite and kick?
Out with it, DUNCIAD! let the fecret pass,

That fecret to each fool, that he's an Afs:



The truth once told (and wherefore should we lie?) The Queen of Midas flept, and fo may I.

You think this cruel? take it for a rule,

No creature fmarts fo little as a fool.

Let peals of laughter, Codrus! round thee break,
Thou unconcern'd can't hear the mighty crack:




VER. 72. Queen,] The ftory is told, by fome, of his Barber, but by Chaucer, of his Queen. See Wife of Bath's Tale in Dryden's Fables.


VER. 80. That fecret to each fool, that he's an Afs:] i. e. that his ears (his marks of folly) are visible. WARBURTON.

VER. 86. the mighty crack:] A parody on Addison's tranflation of Horace, Ode iii. b. 3.

"Should the whole frame of Nature round him break
In rain and confufion hurl'd,

She unconcern'd would hear the mighty crack,

And ftand fecure amidst a falling world."

On which lines he obferves, in the Bathos, "Sometimes a fingle

word (as crack) will vulgarize a poetical idea."


Pit, box, and gall'ry in convulfions hurl'd,

Thou stand'st unshook amidst a bursting world.
Who fhames a Scribler? break one cobweb thro',
He fpins the flight, felf-pleafing thread anew:
Destroy his fib, or sophistry, in vain,

The creature's at his dirty work again,
Thron'd in the centre of his thin defigns,
Proud of a vast extent of flimzy lines!

Whom have I hurt? has Poet yet, or Peer,

Loft the arch'd eye-brow, or Parnaffian fneer?





VER. 88. "Si fractus illabatur crbis,

Impavidum ferient ruinæ." Hor.


VER. 90. He fpins the flight,] The metaphor in our Author is moft happily carried on through a variety of correfponding particulars, that exactly hit the nature of the two infects in question. It is not pursued too far, nor jaded out, fo as to become quaint and affected; as is the cafe in many of Congreve's too witty comedies, particularly in the Way of the World, and in Young's Satires. For inftance:

"Critics on verfe, as fquibs on triumphs, wait,
Proclaim the glory, and augment the state;
Hot, envious, noify, proud, the fcribbling fry

Burn, hifs, and bounce, wafte paper, ftink, and die!

The epithets envious and proud, have nothing to do with squibs. The laft line is brilliant and ingenious, but perhaps too much fo. WARTON.

VER. 95.

-has Poet yet, or Peer,

Loft the arch'd eye-brow, or Parnaffian fneer?]

He has given the "Parnaftian fneer," in the first editions of

the Dunciad, to Theobald:

"The proud Parnaffian fneer,

"The confcious fimper, and the jealous leer,

"Mix on his look,"

Dunciad, book 2d.

And has not Colley ftill his lord, and whore?
His butchers Henley, his free-mafons Moore?
Does not one table Bavius still admit?

Still to one Bishop Philips feem a wit?


Still Sappho-A. Hold! for God-fake-you'll offend. No Names-be calm-learn prudence of a friend:

I too could write, and I am twice as tall ;

But foes like thefe-P. One Flatt'rer's worse than


Of all mad creatures, if the learn'd are right,
It is the flaver kills, and not the bite.


A fool


VER 97. And has not Colley fii, &c.] 1 forbear to fay any thing of "Colley's' anfwer to this line.

VER. 98. free-mafons Moore ?] He was of this fociety, and frequently headed their proceffions. WARBURTON.

VER. 98. His butchers Henley,] This alludes to Henley, commonly called Orator Henley, who declaimed on Sundays on religious subjects, and on Wednesdays on the sciences;-one fhilling was the price of admittance. His Oratory was among the

Butchers in Newport Market and Butcher Row; hence the expref. fion, "His butchers, Henley "There is no great fatire or wit in the allufion, nor is there any thing ludicrous in the idea, that Moore," ftill continues a Free-mafon," in fpight of Pope's Satire.

VER. 99. Does not one table Bavius pill admit?] I cannot find out the circumftance to which this alludes.

VER. 103. Still to one Bishop] This is Bifhop Boulter, who was Ambrofe Philips' great friend and patron. Boulter wrote, in conjunction with Philips, a paper called the Freethinker. He was then only minifter of a parish in Southwark; but being confidered of confequence to Government, he was firft made Dean of St. Paul's, and afterwards Primate of Ireland ; where, adds Johnson, his piety and charity will be long remembered.

A fool quite angry is quite innocent:

Alas! 'tis ten times worse when they repent.
One dedicates in high heroic profe,

And ridicules beyond a hundred foes:
One from all Grubstreet will my fame defend,
And, more abusive, calls himself my friend.
This prints my Letters, that expects a bribe,
And others roar aloud, "Subscribe, fubfcribe."
There are, who to my
who to my perfon pay their court:
I cough like Horace, and, tho' lean, am short;



Ammon's great fon one fhoulder had too high,
Such Ovid's nofe, and "Sir! you have an Eye."-


VER. 111. in the MS.


For fong, for filence fome expect a bribe;
And others roar aloud, "Subscribe, subscribe "
Time, praise, or money, is the least they crave;
Yet each declares the other, fool or knave.


VER. 115. There are, who to my person] What Addison fays in jeft, and with his ufual humour, is true in fact: "I have observed that a reader seldom perufes a book with pleasure till he knows whether the writer of it be a black or fair man, of a mild or choleric difpofition, married or a bachelor." What paffages in Horace are more agreeable than when he tells us he was fat and fleck, "præcanum, folibus aptum," prone to anger, but foon appeafed. And again, how pleafing the detail he gives of his way of life, the descriptions of his mule, his dinner, his supper, his furniture, his amusements, his walks, his time of bathing and fleeping, from the 105th line to the end of the fixth fatire of the first book. And Boileau, in his tenth epiftle, has done the fame in giving many amuling particulars of his father, family, and forWARTON.


Go on, obliging creatures, make me fee,

All that disgrac'd my Betters, met in me.
Say for
my comfort, languishing in bed,

"Juft fo immortal Mare held his head :"
And when I die, be fure you let me know
Great Homer dy'd three thousand years ago.


Why did I write? what fin to me unknown 125 Dipt me in ink, my parents', or my own?

As yet a child, nor yet a fool to fame,

I lifp'd in numbers, for the numbers came,


I left

After VER. 124. in the MS.

But, Friend, this shape, which You and Curl* admire,
Came not from Ammon's fon, but from my Siret:
And for my head, if you'll the truth excuse,
I had it from my Mother ‡, not the Muse.
Happy, if he, in whom these frailties join'd,
Had heir'd as well the virtues of the mind.

*Curl fet up his head for a fign.

His Father was crooked,

His mother was much amicted with head-achs.


VER. 118. Sir! you have an Eye."] It is remarkable that, amongst the compliments on his infirmities and deformities, he mentions his eye, which was fine, sharp, and piercing. It was done to intimate, that flattery was as odious to him when there was fome ground for commendation, as when there was none. WARBURTON,

VER. 127. As yet a child, &c.] He used to say, that he began to write verfes further back than he could remember. When he was eight years old, Ogilby's Homer fell in his way, and delighted him extremely; it was followed by Sandys' Ovid; and the rap. tures thefe then gave him were fo ftrong, that he spoke of them with pleasure ever after. About ten, being at school at Hydepark-corner, where he was much neglected, and fuffered to go to


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