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But still the worst with most regret commend,

For each ill author is as bad a friend.

To what base ends, and by what abject ways

520

Are mortals urg'd thro’ sacred lust of praise!

Ah! ne'er so dire a thirst of glory boast,

Nor in the critic let the man be lost.

Good nature and good sense must ever join;

To err is human; to forgive, divine.

525

But if in noble minds some dregs remain,

Not yet purg'd off, of spleen and sour disdain,

Discharge that rage on more provoking crimes,

Nor fear a dearth in these flagitious times.

No pardon vile obscenity should find,

530

Tho' wit and art conspire to move your mind;

But dulness with obscenity must prove

As shameful sure as impotence in love.

In the fat age of pleasure, wealth, and ease,

Sprang the rank weed, and thriv'd with large increase;

620

Dos sabios; ven a ser rizo dos nescios:
O peor he, (com magoa, e ddr o aponto)
Que hum author mau, he sempre mau amigo.
Com

que fins baxos! com que abjectos meios Insta aos mortais, o louco amor da fama!

Nunca tal cède, de huma gloria errada

625

Na critica mergulhe homens sensatos.

Bomsenso, e coraçaõ unidos andem.

Errár he de homens, perdoar, divino.

Porem se algumas fézes de tastio Ou de rancor contem o animo nobre,

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A seduzir a mente, e a comover nos.

Mas parvoice obscena he vergonhosa,
Como insultos, que amor nojento engeita.

No seculo nutrido dos prazeres

U

When love was all an easy

monarch's care,

536

Seldom at council, never in a war:

Jilts ruld the state, and statesmen farces writ;

Nay wits had pensions, and young lords had wit;

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Da riqueza, do commodo, he que nasce

640

Viçoso joyo, entre elles medra, e cresce

Quando hum monarca, todo á amor sentrega

645

Que a justiça, o concelho, a guerra esquece,
Regem loucos o reino, os estadistas
Compõe comedias, madrigais, e farças,
Naõ só casquilhos tem pensões e engenho,
Mas palpitando, as damas no theatro
Do libertino, o drama impuro admirao;

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655

Reformar a naçaõ, e dar-lhe a norma
De salvarse sem custo, alegremente.

Muito absoluto Deus lhe parecera

Se os vassalos do ceó, naõ discutissem

Seus suppóstos direitos livremente

Pulpits their sacred satire learn’d to spare,

550

And Vice admir'd to find a flatt'rer there !

Encourag'd thus, Wit's Titans bray'd the skies,

And the press groan'd with licens'd blasphemies.

These monsters, Critics! with your darts engage,

Here point your thunder, and exhaust your rage!

Yet shun their fault, who, scandalously nice,

556

Will needs mistake an author into vice:

All seems infected that th' infected spy,

As all looks yellow to the jaundic'd eye.

Learn then what morals critics ought to show, 560

For 'tis but a half a judge's task to know.

'Tis not enough, taste, judgment, learning, join;

In all you speak, let truth and candour shine;

That not alone what to your sense is due

All may allow; but seek your friendship too.

565

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