Or, "Have you nothing new to-day
"From Pope, from Parnell, or from Gay?"
Such tattle often entertains
My Lord and me, as far as Staines,
As once a week we travel down
To Windsor, and again to Town,
Where all that passes inter nos
Might be proclaim'd at Charing-cross.
Yet some I know with envy swell,
Because they see me us'd so well,
"How think you of our friend the Dean? "I wonder what some people mean;
My Lord and he are grown so great,
Always together tete a tete.
"What! they admire him for his jokes--
"See but the fortune of some folks!" There flies about a strange report
Of some express arriv'd at Court;
Et quæ rimosa bene deponuntur in aure.
Per totum hoc tempus, subjectior in diem et horam Invidiæ. "Noster ludos spectaverat una,
Luserat in campo, Fortunæ filius," omnes.
Frigidus a rostris manat per compita rumor;
Quicunque obvius est, me consulit: O bone, (nam et
Scire, Deos quoniam propius contingis, oportet)
Num quid de Dacis audisti? Nil equidem. Ut tu
Semper eris derisor! At omnes Di exagitent me,
Si quidquam! Quid? militibus promissa triquetra
Prædia Cæsar, an est Itala tellure daturus?
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 lie?"
"Faith, Sir, you know as much as I."
"Ah! Doctor, how you love to jest!
"'Tis now no secret."
"'Tis one to me."---" Then tell us, pray, "When are the troops to have their pay?" And tho' I solemnly declare
I know no more than my Lord Mayor,
They stand amaz'd, and think me grown
The closest mortal ever known.
Thus in a sea of folly tost,
My choicest hours of life are lost;
Yet always wishing to retreat,
Oh, could I see my country-seat!
There leaning near a gentle brook,
Sleep, or peruse some ancient book,
Jurantem me scire nihil, mirantur, ut unum
Scilicet egregii mortalem altique silenti.
Perditur hæc inter misero lux; non sine votis:
O rus, quando ego te aspiciam? quandoque licebit,
Nunc veterum libris, nunc somno et inertibus horis,
Ducere solicitæ jucunda oblivia vitæ ?
O quando faba Pythagoræ cognata, simulque
Uncta satis pingui ponentur oluscula lardo?
O noctes, cœnæque Deum! quibus ipse, meique
And there in sweet oblivion drown
Those cares that haunt the Court and Town.
O charming noon! and nights divine!
Or when I sup, or when I dine,
My friends above, my folks below,
Chatting and laughing all-a-row,
The beans and bacon set before 'em,
The grace-cup serv'd with all decorum;
Each willing to be pleas'd, and please,
And ev❜n the very dogs at ease!
Here no man prates of idle things,
How this or that Italian sings,
A neighbour's madness, or his spouse's,
Or what's in either of the Houses;
But something much more our concern,
And quite a scandal not to learn:
Which is the happier or the wiser,
A man of merit, or a miser?
Ante Larem proprium vescor; vernasque procaces
Pasco libatis dapibus, prout cuique libido est,
Siccat inæquales calices conviva, solutus
Legibus insanis; seu quis capit acria fortis
Pocula; seu modicis humescit lætius. ergo
Sermo oritur, non de villis domibusve alienis,
Nec male necne Lepos saltet: sed quod magis ad nos
Pertinet, et nescire malum est, agitamus: utrumne
Divitiis homines, an sint virtute beati:
Quidve ad amicitias, usus rectumne, trahat nos:
Et quæ sit natura boni sumnumque quid ejus.
Whether we ought to chuse our friends
For their own worth, or our own ends?
What good, or better, we may call,
And what the very best of all?
Our friend Dan Prior, told (you know)
A tale extremely a propos:
Name a Town life, and in a trice
He had a story of two Mice.
"Once on a time (so runs the fable)
A country mouse, right hospitable,
Receiv'd a town mouse at his board,
Just as a farmer might a lord.
A frugal mouse upon the whole,
Yet lov'd his friend, and had a soul;
Knew what was handsome, and would do't,
On just occasion, coute qui coute.
He brought him bacon, (nothing lean)
Pudding that might have pleas'd a Dean;
Cervius hæc inter vicinus garrit aniles
Ex re fabellas. si quis nam laudat Arelli
Sollicitas ignarus opes, sic incipit:" olim
Rusticus urbanum murem mus paupere fertur
Accepisse cavo, veterem vetus hospes amicum;
Asper, et attentus quæsitis; ut tamen arctum
Solveret hospitiis animum. quid multa? neque illi
Sepositi ciceris, nec longæ invidit avenæ ;
Aridum et ore ferens acinum, semesaque lardi
Frusta dedit, cupiens varia fastidia cœna.
Vincere tangentis male singula dente superbo:
Cheese such as men in Suffolk make,
But wish'd it Stilton for his sake;
Yet, to his guest tho' no way sparing,
He ate himself the rind and paring.
Our courtier scarce could touch a bit,
But show'd his breeding and his wit;
He did his best to seem to eat,
And cry'd, "I vow you're mighty neat:
"But, Lord, my friend, this savage scene!
"For God's sake, come and live with men:
"Consider mice, like men, must die,
"Both small and great, both you and I ;
"Then spend your life in joy and sport;
"(This doctrine, friend, I learn'd at court.)" The veriest hermit in the nation
May yield, God knows, to strong temptation.
Away they came, thro' thick and thin,
To a tall house near Lincoln's-inn;
('Twas on the night of a debate,
When all their Lordships had sat late.)
Cum pater ipse domus palea porrectus in horna
Esset ador loliumque, dapis meliora relinquens.
Tandem urbanus ad hunc, Quid te juvat, inquit, amice,
Prærupti nemoris patientem vivere dorso?
Vis tu homines urbemque feris præponere sylvis?
Carpe viam (mihi crede) comes: terrestria quando
Mortales animas vivunt sortita, neque ulla est,
Aut magno aut parvo, lethi fuga. quo, bone, circa,
Dum licet, in rebus jucundis vive beatus:
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