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Of our two academies I nam'd.

He stopt me, and said, Nay your Apostles were
Good pretty Linguists; so Panurgus was,
Yet a poor Gentleman; all these may pass
By travail. Then, as if he would have sold
His tongue, he prais'd it, and such wonders told,
That I was fain to say, If you had liv'd, Sir,
Time enough to have been Interpreter

To Babel's Bricklayers, sure the Tower had stood.
He adds, If of Court life you knew the good,
You would leave loneness.

I said, Not alone

My loneness is; but Spartanes fashion

To teach by painting drunkards doth not last
Now, Aretines pictures have made few chaste:

NOTES.

sure on a Writer, whose style, it must be confessed, was sometimes, but not always (as for instance, in his Treatise on the Sacrament), languid and diffuse: but who, having spent his life in defending the British Constitution, the Revolution, and the Succession of the House of Hanover, certainly did, by no means, deserve to be styled, as he lately hath been, "That Republican Prelate, Bishop Hoadly." The late excellent Bishop of London, Dr. Lowth, thought very differently of him, and calls him, in his admirable Life of Wickham, "The great Advocate of Civil and Religious Liberty."

Ver. 73. a period of a mile.] A stadium of Euripides was a standing joke amongst the Greeks. By the same kind of pleasantry, Cervantes has called his Hero's countenance, a face of half a league long; which, because the humour, as well as the measure of the expression, was excessive, all his translators have judiciously agreed to omit; without doubt paying due attention to that sober rule of Quintilian, licet omnis hyperbole sit ultra fidem non tamen debet esse ultra MODUM. Scribl.

Ver. 75. so Panurge was;] It is surprising that Rabelais, whose book is the most cutting satire on the Pope, the Church,

Why yes, 'tis granted, these indeed may pass :
Good common linguist, and so Panurge was;
Nay troth th' Apostles (tho' perhaps too rough)
Had once a pretty gift of Tongues enough;
Yet these were all poor Gentlemen! I dare
Affirm, 'twas Travel made them what they were.

75

80

Thus other talents having nicely shewn, He came by sure transition to his own : Till I cry'd out, You prove yourself so able, Pity! you was not Druggerman at Babel; For had they found a linguist half so good, I make no question but the Tow'r had stood. "Obliging Sir! for Courts you sure were made: Why then for ever bury'd in the shade?

84

NOTES.

and the principal events of his time, should have escaped severe censure and punishment. Garagantuas is decisively Francis I. and Henry II. is Pantagruel; and Charles V. Pierocole. Swift, who formed himself on Rabelais, has exactly copied the famous speech of Panurge, in the Tale of the Tub, where Lord Peter, giving to Martin and John a piece of dry bread, tells them, it contains beef, partridge, capons, and the best wine of Burgundy. Rabelais, like Swift, loved politics. See his Letters from Rome, when he accompanied the Cardinal Bellay, Ambassador of Francis. I. to Pope Paul III. Rabelais imitated, in many passages, the Litera Virorum Obscurorum.

Ver. 78. Yet these were all poor Gentlemen!] Our Poet has here added to the humour of his Original. Donne makes his threadbare Traveller content himself under his poverty, with the reflection, that even Panurge himself (the great Traveller and Linguist in Rabelais) went a begging. There is infinite wit in this passage of Donne, yet very licentious, in coupling the Apostles and Panurge in this buffoon manner.

By adding the words, "a pretty gift of Tongues," Pope has made it still more licentious.

No more can Princes Courts (though there be few Better pictures of vice) teach me virtue.

He like to a high-stretch Lutestring squeaks, O Sir,
'Tis sweat to talk of Kings. At Westminster,
Said I, the man that keeps the Abbey-tombs,

And for his price, doth with whoever comes
Of all our Harrys and our Edwards talk,

From King to King, and all their kin can walk :
Your ears shall hear nought but Kings; your eyes

meet

Kings only: The way to it is King's-street.

He smack'd, and cry'd, He's base, mechanique,

coarse,

So are all your Englishmen in their discourse. Are not your Frenchmen neat? Mine, as you see, I have but one, Sir, look, he follows me.

Certes, they are neatly cloath'd. I of this mind am, Your only wearing is your Grogaram.

Not so, Sir, I have more.

Under this pitch

He would not fly: I chaff'd him: but as Itch

NOTES.

Ver. 95. Aretine has made;] Alluding to the infamous Sonnets which this celebrated Italian wit composed to accompany the Sixteen obscene Figures that were designed by Julio Romano, who, as well as Titian, was his friend; and engraved by Marc Antonio Raimondi. By writing which, Aretine lost the favour and countenance of Leo the Tenth, and Clement VII. but was afterward restored to the favour of the Medici Family, and wrote some books of devotion. The lines written for his epitaph shew his

character sufficiently:

Qui giace l'Aretin poeta Tosco,

Che disse mal d'ogn'un fuor che dio,

Scusandosi col dir non lo conosco.

Mazzuchelli, vol. i. p. 1012.

Spirits like

90

you, should see and should be seen, The King would smile on you-at least the Queen." Ah gentle Sir! you Courtiers so cajole usBut Tully has it, Nunquam minus solus : And as for Courts, forgive me, if I say No lessons now are taught the Spartan way : Tho' in his pictures Lust be full display'd, Few are the Converts Aretine has made; And tho' the Court shew Vice exceeding clear, None should, by my advice, learn Virtue there.

95

At this entranc'd, he lifts his hands and eyes, Squeaks like a high-stretch'd lutestring, and replies, "Oh, 'tis the sweetest of all earthly things

To gaze on Princes, and to talk of Kings !"
Then, happy Man who shews the Tombs! said I,
He dwells amidst the Royal Family;

He ev'ry day, from King to King can walk,
Of all our Harries, all our Edwards, talk,
And get by speaking truth of monarchs dead,
What few can of the living, Ease and Bread.

66

100

105

111

Lord, Sir, a mere Mechanic! strangely low, And coarse of phrase,—your English all are so. How elegant your Frenchmen?" Mine, d'ye mean? I have but one, I hope the fellow's clean. "Oh! Sir, politely so! nay, let me die; Your only wearing is your Paduasoy." Not, Sir, my only, I have better still, And this you see is but my dishabille

NOTES.

115

Ver. 104. from King to King] Much superior to the Original, where is a vile conceit,

VOL. IV.

"The way to it is King's-street."

T

Scratch'd into smart, and as blunt Iron ground
Into an edge, hurts worse: So, I (fool) found,
Crossing hurt me.. To fit my sullenness,

He to another key his style doth dress;

And asks what news; I tell him of new playes,
He takes my hand, and as a Still, which stayes,
A Sembrief 'twixt each drop, he niggardly,

As loth to inrich me, so tells many à ly.

More than ten Hollensheads, or Halls, or Stows,
Of trivial household trash: He knows, he knows
When the Queen frown'd or smil'd, and he knows
what

A subtle Statesman may gather of that;

He knows who loves whom; and who by poison
Hasts to an Offices reversion;

Who wastes in meat, in clothes, in horse, he notes,
Who loveth whores

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He knows who hath sold his land, and now doth beg A licence, old iron, boots, shoes, and egge

Shells to transport;

shortly boys shall not play At span-counter, or blow-point, but shall pay Toll to some Courtier; and wiser than all us, He knows what Lady is not painted. Thus He with home meats cloyes me. I belch, spue, spit, Look pale and sickly, like a Patient, yet

NOTES.

Ver. 116. Wild to get loose,] Donne in this Satire imitates the Impertinent of Horace. Sat. ix. b. 1. And Horace copied the character from Theophrastus. There was an edition in folio, 1737, with this title, The Impertinent, or a Visit to the Court, a Satire by Mr. Pope.--And no mention is made of Donne in this Edition.

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