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"But rudely prefs before a Duke."
This humbly offers me his CafeThat, begs my int'reft for a PlaceA hundred other Men's affairs, Like bees, are humming in my ears. "To-morrow my Appeal comes on, "Without your help the Caufe is goneThe Duke expects my Lord and you, About fome great Affair, at Two"Put my Lord Bolingbroke in mind, "To get my Warrant quickly fign'd: "Confider 'tis my first request.— Be fatisfy'd, I'll do my beft:beft:Then presently he falls to teize, "You may for certain, if you please; "I doubt not, if his Lordfhip knew"And, Mr. Dean, one word from you'Tis (let me fee) three years and more, (October next it will be four) Since HARLEY bid me firft attend, And chofe me for an humble friend; Would take me in his Coach to chat, And question me of this and that;
As, "What's o'clock?" And, "How's the Wind?"? "Who's Chariot's that we left behind?
Hoc genus, Hora quota eft? Threx eft Gallina
Matutina parum cautos jam frigora mordent:
Or gravely try to read the lines
My Lord and me as far as Stains, As once a week we travel down To Windfor, and again to Town, Where all that paffes, inter nos, Might be proclaim'd at Charing-Crofs. Yet fome I know with envy swell, Because they fee me us'd fo well: "How think you of our Friend the Dean? "I wonder what fome people mean; "My Lord and he are grown so great, fo "Always together, téte à tête, "What, they admire him for his jokes"See but the fortune of some Folks! There flies about a ftrange report Of fome Express arriv'd at Court; I'm stopp'd by all the fools I meet, And catechis'd in ev'ry street. “You, Mr. Dean, frequent the Great ; "Inform us, will the Emp'ror treat? "Or do the Prints and Papers lye? Faith, Sir, you know as much as I. "Ah Doctor, how you love to jest? "'Tis now no fecret I proteft 'Tis one to me" Then tell us, pray, "When are the Troops to have their pay? And, tho' I folemnly declare
I know no more than my Lord Mayor,
Jurantem me feire nihil miratur, ut unum
Perditur haec inter mifero lux; non fine votis,
Pertinet, et nefcire malum eft, agitamus; utrumne Divitiis
They ftand amaz'd, and think me grown
THUS in a sea of folly toss'd,
But fomething much more our concern,
VER. 125. Thus in a fea, etc.] Our Poet excels his friend in his own way of modernizing Horace. But this way is infinitely inferior to his own. For tho' Horace be eafy, he is not familiar; or, if he be, it is the familiarity of Courts, which is never without its dignity. These things burlesque verfe cannot reconcile, nor indeed any other, that I know of, but the fore-going imitations of our Poet.