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-The Project Gutenberg EBook of Poeta de Tristibus: Or, the Poet's Complaint, by
-Anonymous
-
-This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with
-almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or
-re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included
-with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org
-
-
-Title: Poeta de Tristibus: Or, the Poet's Complaint
-
-Author: Anonymous
-
-Contributor: Harold Love
-
-Release Date: September 8, 2013 [EBook #43673]
-
-Language: English
-
-Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1
-
-*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK POETA DE TRISTIBUS ***
-
-
-
-
-Produced by Chris Curnow, Richard Tonsing, Joseph Cooper
-and the Online Distributed Proofreading Team at
-http://www.pgdp.net
-
-
-
-
-
-
-THE AUGUSTAN REPRINT SOCIETY
-
-
-
-
-POETA DE TRISTIBUS:
-OR, THE
-Poet's Complaint
-
-
-(1682)
-
-_Introduction and Notes by_
-
-HAROLD LOVE
-
-PUBLICATION NUMBER 149
-
-WILLIAM ANDREWS CLARK MEMORIAL LIBRARY
-
-UNIVERSITY OF CALIFORNIA, LOS ANGELES
-
-1971
-
-
-GENERAL EDITORS
-
- William E. Conway, _William Andrews Clark Memorial Library_
- George Robert Guffey, _University of California, Los Angeles_
- Maximillian E. Novak, _University of California, Los Angeles_
-
-ASSOCIATE EDITOR
-
- David S. Rodes, _University of California, Los Angeles_
-
-ADVISORY EDITORS
-
- Richard C. Boys, _University of Michigan_
- James L. Clifford, _Columbia University_
- Ralph Cohen, _University of Virginia_
- Vinton A. Dearing, _University of California, Los Angeles_
- Arthur Friedman, _University of Chicago_
- Louis A. Landa, _Princeton University_
- Earl Miner, _University of California, Los Angeles_
- Samuel H. Monk, _University of Minnesota_
- Everett T. Moore, _University of California, Los Angeles_
- Lawrence Clark Powell, _William Andrews Clark Memorial Library_
- James Sutherland, _University College, London_
- H. T. Swedenberg, Jr., _University of California, Los Angeles_
- Robert Vosper, _William Andrews Clark Memorial Library_
- Curt A. Zimansky, _State University of Iowa_
-
-CORRESPONDING SECRETARY
-
- Edna C. Davis, _William Andrews Clark Memorial Library_
-
-EDITORIAL ASSISTANT
-
- Lilly Kurahashi, _William Andrews Clark Memorial Library_
-
-
-
-
-INTRODUCTION
-
-
-_Poeta de Tristibus: or, the Poet's Complaint (PdT)_ was published by
-two newly established booksellers, Henry Faithorne and John Kersey,
-early in November 1681 (title-page dated 1682). The poem is only one of
-a large number of Restoration satires on writers as a group, its nearest
-neighbors in time being the pseudo-Rochester "A Session of the Poets,"
-the anonymous "Advice to Apollo," Mulgrave's "An Essay upon Satyr,"
-Otway's _The Poet's Complaint_, Robert Gould's "To Julian, Secretary to
-the Muses," the anonymous "Satire on the Poets," Shadwell's _The Tory
-Poets_, and Thomas Wood's _Juvenalis Redivivus_. It differs from these
-in its Hudibrastic meter, the richness of its biographical detail, and a
-relatively mild degree of animus against its victims, though there is
-quite a deal against poetry as art and trade.
-
-In the two introductory epistles, we are asked to believe first that the
-poem is the work of a young writer driven into exile by his poverty and
-secondly that the manuscript was sent from Dover to a relative on 10
-January 1681 in acknowledgment of a piece of gold. It is possible, as
-will be seen, that this reflects an actual history; however, the matter
-is complicated by the existence of a second text, published by 12
-November 1681 (Luttrell's date on his copy, now at Harvard, and
-apparently the only one still extant) as _The Poet's Complaint (PC)_ in
-which the story is presented in a slightly different form and the text
-of the poem is little more than a third the length of _PdT_. An
-advertisement placed in Nathaniel Thompson's _Loyal Protestant and True
-Domestick Intelligence_ on 19 November 1681 claims that the rival
-version, published by Dan Brown, was printed from a "spurious and very
-imperfect Copy which contains only the first Part of the said Poem, the
-three last Parts (which are the most considerable) being wholly left
-out, excepting some few lines of them foisted in here and there without
-any Sense or Coherence" and describes the Faithorne and Kersey
-manuscript as "from the Authors Original Copy in four parts (together
-with several Additions and Corrections by an Ingenious Person)." In a
-recent article (_PQ_, XLVII [1968], 547-562) the present editor has
-argued against this account of the poem's genesis, and has proposed the
-following hypothetical order of versions. (For the details of the
-argument the reader is referred to the article.)
-
- (1) An impromptu written as _The Poet's Complaint_ on or about 30
- December 1680, for despatch to "a Person of Quality," using
- materials from a commonplace book dating from circa 1677. This
- assumption is based on the terminal dates of its collection of
- quotations from other writers which differs from that of _PdT_, and
- a disparity between the times of composition alleged in the
- epistles to the two poems--_PdT_ claiming "less than a fortnight's
- space" and _PC_ "less than three days space."
-
- (2) An enlarged version of #1 in four cantos completed by 10
- January 1681. (The "Authors Original Copy.")
-
- (3) The version of #2 revised and augmented by "The Ingenious
- Person," who may or may not have been identical with the
- "Publisher," and printed as _Poeta de Tristibus_.
-
-It would follow that the near-simultaneous publication of versions #1
-and #3 in November 1681 was wholly coincidental. My initial assumption
-that _PC_ represents an early draft rather than a truncated copy of
-_PdT_ has been reviewed with approval by my colleague David Bradley,
-using criteria developed during a study of analogous situations among
-Elizabethan dramatic texts. One of his most valuable observations is
-that the two versions are thematically distinct, _PC_ being a satire on
-backbiting, attacking those who abuse poets and poetry, and _PdT_ a more
-general study of the notion "Wit versus Wealth." It is unfortunately
-impossible to reproduce his more detailed comments since this would also
-involve reproducing sizeable sections of _PC_; however, the basic point
-concerning the direction of copying can be made in another way through
-the pattern of variants revealed in extracts from the epilogue to Lacy's
-_The Old Troop_ and Dryden's prologue to _Aureng-Zebe_ which are quoted
-in both _PC_ and _PdT_. Collation shows that both texts are derived
-from a lost intermediary which was in close though not complete
-agreement with _PC_ against _PdT_. This rules out any chance that this
-section of _PC_ could be derived from the printer's copy of _PdT_, and
-suggests that the intermediary is more likely to have been the
-hypothetical commonplace book or the MS of _PC_ than any four-canto
-text, though the second possibility cannot be dismissed on textual
-grounds alone.
-
-The only real clues to the authorship of the poem are the biographical
-details of the preface and the signature initials "T.W." following the
-author's epistle of _PC_--either or both of which may of course result
-from a conscious intention to deceive. Surprisingly, both seem to be
-relevant to the history of Thomas Ward, the author of the hudibrastic
-anti-protestant satire, _England's Reformation_ (1719), who is known to
-have left England at roughly the time suggested as that of the poem's
-composition. In the life of Ward prefixed to _An Interesting Controversy
-with Mr. Ritschel, Vicar of Hexham_ (1819), which appears to be based at
-an unknown degree of removal on a personal memoir, he is said to have
-been born on 13 April 1652, and to have returned to England in the
-thirty-fourth year of his age after at least "five or six years" abroad,
-a figure which may just be reconciled with a departure date in January
-1680/1. However, other details of the case do not fit so well. To start
-with, it is hard to see how a man of twenty-eight could refer, as the
-author does in both epistles, to his "want of years, and a necessary
-Experience in the Ages humour." Nor is it easy to reconcile Ward's
-fervent Catholicism with a satiric allusion in _PC_ to non-preaching
-bishops--a favorite topic of Puritan polemic--or with a reference to the
-Pope as "Rome's great Idol." Ward is said in the _Life_ to have been a
-Catholic before his departure, and writes movingly in _England's
-Reformation_ of his friendship with the Yorkshire anchorite Father
-Posket, executed in March 1679. The matter is further complicated by the
-appearance of the initials "T.W." together with the dateline "Rome, June
-10. 79. Stilo Novo." on a broadsheet of 1679, _A letter from Rome to a
-Friend in London in Relation to the Jesuits Executed, and those that are
-to be Executed in the Countryes_, which is in fact an anti-Catholic
-tract vigorously supporting the executions. For this to have been the
-work of Ward we would have to assume that he had set out for Rome at
-least two years before the departure of the Poeta and then suffered a
-violent relapse into Puritanism. On the other hand, if the pamphlet, as
-is quite probable, was really the work of one of Shaftesbury's
-propagandists in London, there would have been excellent reasons for
-attaching the initials of a known Catholic exile. As the year 1679 is
-also within the stated date-range of Ward's departure, the existence of
-the broadsheet must count marginally against his being the author of
-_PdT_.
-
-I can cast no further light on this mystery beyond proposing that if the
-story of the exiled poet is in fact a fabrication, the poem may have
-been the work of a younger (b. 1661) and Protestant "T.W." in the person
-of Thomas Wood, Anthony à Wood's nephew, later celebrated as a legal
-writer, poet, and controversialist and for his fondness for anonymous
-and pseudonymous publication. Two of Wood's poems, _Juvenalis Redivivus_
-(published anonymously in 1683) and an elegy on the death of Oldham
-(included with Dryden's lines in the _Remains_ of 1684), are satires on
-the poets of a similar kind to _PdT_, while the second has a striking
-structural similarity to its opening canto. Neither _PdT_ nor _PC_ is
-included in Wood's list of his writings sent to his uncle in 1692 for
-inclusion in _Athenae Oxonienses_ (Bodl. MS. Wood F.45, f.#229), nor do
-they appear in _A Catalogue of Part of the Library of the Reverend Dr.
-Wood_ (London, 1723); however, neither omission need be significant. A
-third possibility is Thomas Walters, claimed by Anthony à Wood as the
-true author of William Bedloe's tragedy, _The Excommunicated Prince_
-(1679); but I have found nothing beyond the fact he was an author to
-connect him with _PdT_, nor any evidence that either he or Thomas Wood
-spent the years 1681-1682 otherwise than accumulating time for their
-degrees at Oxford.
-
-Monash University
-
-
-BIBLIOGRAPHICAL NOTE
-
-This facsimile of _Poeta de Tristibus_ (1682) is reproduced from a copy
-(*PR3291/P795) in the William Andrews Clark Memorial Library.
-
-
-
-
-POETA DE TRISTIBUS:
-
-OR, THE
-
-Poet's Complaint.
-
-A
-
-POEM
-
-
-_In Four_ CANTO'S.
-
-_Ovid de Trist._
-
-_Parve, nec invideo, sine me Liber ibis in Urbem:
- Hei mihi! qụ_----
-
-_LONDON_,
-
-Printed for _Henry Faitborne_ and _John Kersey_, at the
-_Rose_ in St. _Paul_'s Church-Yard. 1682.
-
-
-
-
-_The Publisher's Epistle to the_
-
-READER.
-
-
-_Courteous Reader_,
-
-The following Poem was presented me about a year ago; and (as it appears
-by the Author's Epistle to me) was designed only for my Private
-Divertisement: But numerous Draughts being dispers'd abroad, by the
-Unworthiness of a Gentleman I Trusted it withal, I was more easily
-perswaded to Publish the Original, to prevent the Inconveniencies of a
-Surreptitious Copy, which, without my Allowance, was designed for the
-Press.
-
-The Author being out of _England_, I would not venture to set his Name
-to it; nor have I presumed thus far, without extraordinary regret; not
-that I know any other Reason that enforces a concealment, besides that
-it was sent to me with such a Bond. I am sure no particular Person can
-pretend to any distaste; and _Satyr_ on general Subjects was ever
-Allowable, _Religion_ and _Government_ only excepted.
-
-But I must Confess, that in the Third Part of this Poem, there were some
-Capital Letters which began the Names of certain Poets of this Age, but
-them I have so altered, lest any Offence should be given, that by them I
-am sure no Discovery can be made. I will no longer detain you from your
-better Divertisement in the following Poem; which, if you have any good
-Nature, you cannot chuse but favour, especially if you carry along with
-you those several Circumstances which in the way will offer themselves
-to you in the Author's behalf.
-
-_Farewel._
-
-
-
-
-The Author's Epistle.
-
-
-SIR,
-
-_My Obedience to your desire so happily concentring with my Inclination
-to this Subject, has in less than a fortnight's space produc'd what here
-you see. To you I need not make any Apology for its Artless Habit, who
-very well know my want of years, and a necessary Experience in the Ages
-humour; nor can you reasonably expect any extraordinary strokes from one
-whose thoughts are divided between so many various Afflictions; since_
-Ovid _himself, when Condemn'd to Banishment, was forc'd to resign that
-Spirit of Poetry, which animated all his Works, besides that of his_ De
-Tristibus. _Besides, I must desire your Patience to observe, that (the
-Verse I use being a kind of Doggrel) it is but Natural that now and then
-it should run harsh and rugged; nor do I believe I have done amiss by
-forcing my self sometimes to be so very plain and familiar. As for the
-Rhyme and Measure, though perhaps they may not always answer the
-strictest Law, yet I do not think it worth the while to make any excuse
-for that, being faults so inconsiderable, that they are seldom reflected
-on, but by the meanest sort of Criticks, who want judgment to discern
-the Intrigues of Humour and Invention, which are the Principal
-Ingredients of a Poem, and which I must needs confess are here extreamly
-deficient: For as this little Poem was written_ extempore, _so it
-presumes to kiss your hand in its Native unpolish'd shape, not having
-the least thought or word of it Corrected; for to Morrow being the time
-we design to take Shipping, I had not so much leisure as to Transcribe
-it._
-
-_I must Confess, it seems unnatural, that one who pretends to the Title
-of a Poet, should endeavour, as I have done, to disparage his own
-Profession. However, the Poets of this Age, whom it most concerns, I
-hope will not take it unkindly of me, since doing thus, I only follow
-the Example they have given me; for in that short time of my Residence
-in_ London, _among all the Poets I was in Company with, I heard little
-else besides their Complaints, and unmerciful damnings both of the Times
-and one another. Neither have I seen a Modern Play but either began or
-ended in the same Tune. Some few of which I have, for Example-sake, here
-presumed to quote._
-
-
-In the Prologue to _Aurenzebe_.
-
- _The Clergy thrives, and the Litigious Bar,_
- _Dull Heroes fatten by the Spoils of War._
- _All Southern Vices (Heav'n be prais'd) are here,_
- _But Wit's a Luxury you count too dear._
-
-In the Epilogue to the _Libertine_.
-
- _S Death! What a Devil would you have us do?_}
- _Each take a Prison, and there humbly sue,_ }
- _Angling for single Money in a Shoe?_ }
-
-In the Epilogue to _Monsieur Rogooe_.
-
- _I Am a Poet, and I'll prove it plain,_
- _Both by my empty Purse, and empty Brain._
- _I've other Reasons to confirm it too;_
- _I've great, and self-conceits of all I do._
- _As for my Play, I Pawn'd it to some Cit,_
- _At least six Months before my Play was writ._
- _But when the third day comes, away I run,_
- _Knowing that then in sholes come all my Duns._
- _If these things make me not a proper Poet,_
- _He that has better Title, let him shew it._
-
-In the Prologue to _Theodosius_; Or the Force of Love.
-
- _On Poets only no kind Star e're smil'd,_
- _Curst Fate has damn'd 'em every Mothers Child._
- _Therefore he warns his Brothers of the Stage_
- _To write no more to an ingrateful Age._
- _Think what penurious Masters you have serv'd;_
- Tasso _ran mad, and Noble_ Spencer _starv'd_.
- _Turn then, who e're thou art, that canst Write well,_
- _Thy ink to Gall, and in Lampoons excell._
- _Forswear all Honesty, traduce the Great,_
- _Grow Impudent, and rail against the State;_
- _Bursting with Spleen, abroad thy Pasquils send,_
- _And choose some Libel-spreader for thy Friend._
- _The Wit and Want of_ Timon _point thy Mind,_
- _And for thy Satyr-subject chuse Mankind._
-
-In the Prologue to the Unhappy Favourite; or the Earl of _Essex_.
-
- _The Merchant, joyful with th' hopes of Gain,_
- _Ventures his Life and Fortunes on the Main;_
- _But the poor Poet oft'ner does expose_
- _More than his Life, his Credit, for Applause._
-
-In the Epilogue to the same Play.
-
- _Let those who call us Wicked, change their Sence,_
- _For never Men liv'd more on Providence:_
- _Not Lott'ry Cavaliers are half so poor,_
- _Nor broken Cits, nor a Vacation Whore;_
- _Not Courts, nor Courtiers living on the Rents_
- _Of the three last ungiving Parliaments._
- _So Wretched, that if_ Pharaoh _could Divine,_ }
- _He might have spar'd his Dream of seven lean Kine,_}
- _And chang'd the Vision for the Muses Nine._ }
-
-And a little after.
-
- _'Tis not our want of Wit that keeps us poor,_
- _For then the Printer's Press would suffer more:_
- _Their Pamphleteers their Venom daily spit,_
- _They thrive by Treason, and we starve by Wit._
-
-_Now I do not blame these Ingenuous Gentlemen for inveighing against the
-thing to which they owe their Ruin; nor were it to any purpose to
-endeavour to conceal a Truth so generally taken notice of: For who is
-Ignorant of this, that a Man, in all Professions, except that of Poetry,
-may with Honour advance a Livelihood? But that (though it may be
-sometimes found proper for the Divertisement of those few who have
-leisure to read it) was ever known to be most unprofitable to the
-Authors; for few or none have been Advanced by it, though many have been
-hindred by this Art of Versifying, from making their Fortune otherwise
-in the World. Yea, this Profession is grown so Vile and abject, that
-whereas others count it an Honour to be stiled Physicians, Barristers,
-or the like; these are offended with the very Name of Poet: And that
-with good Reason too, since Poetry only glories in Disguising the Truth;
-for which cause it begins to be Banished even from Theatres, to which
-alone it was Destinated; and Prose is now come in request, being
-prefer'd for its Gracefulness and Naturalness above it: By which means
-this Art is in danger to be confin'd to the Corners of Streets; to serve
-only for Songs and Ballads. Hence it was that_ Ovid _was so severely
-Punished by his Father, to make him leave off this Art, which proved so
-unlucky to him, that he became of a Rich_ Roman _Knight, a Miserable
-Exile among_ Barbarians. _Hence_ Plato _was pleased to Banish it out of
-his imaginary Common-Wealth. And_ Philip, _the first Christian Emperour,
-denied them those Immunities which he granted to all others. Numerous
-Instances of this Nature offer themselves to my Pen, but I must take
-care not to stretch my Epistle too far, for fear you should Reflect on
-it, what was formerly said on Sir_ William D'avenant's _Preface before
-his_ Gondibert,
-
- A Preface to no Book, a Porch to no House,
- Here is the Mountain, but where is the Mouse?
-
-_However, I must not neglect to desire this one Favour of you, that
-after you have taken the pains to peruse these undigested Lines, you
-would be pleased to bestow on them a Funeral Fire; or if you apprehend
-that Sentence to be too severe, I do most earnestly beg of you to keep
-them Secret to your self, without shewing them to your trustiest Friend,
-at least, with my Name_ _to them. It were superfluous now to engage you
-not to convey them to the Censorious World through the Press, since
-that, and more was already by the precedent Caution imply'd; besides,
-the Opinion I have of your Candour, is better grounded, than to admit of
-any such Jealousie._
-
-_I will now only add my most hearty Thanks for all your Favours,
-particularly for the Piece of Gold I Received inclosed in your last
-Letter; and had some others of my Relations proved as kind to me as your
-self, or had I in my own Countrey met with encouragement any way sutable
-to my Endeavours, I had not in this Passion shaken hands with it. But
-now I am in hast to be gone, yet will for ever remain,_
-
-_Dearest Cousin!_
-
-Your assured, Faithful Friend,
-and most Humble Servant.
-
-Dated at _Dover_ the Tenth
-day of _January, 1680/1_.
-
- POETA DE TRISTIBUS:
-
- OR, THE
-
- Poet's Complaint.
-
- A
-
- POEM.
-
-
-
-
-_The First CANTO._
-
-
- Since here I'm bandy'd up and down
- By the keen blows of Fortunes frown,
- Whil'st Art and Nature vainly strive
- To make th' unhappy Poet live;
- I'le fly such Native Plagues as these
- For Refuge, to the calmer Seas:
- And try if boading Stars dispence
- Ev'ry where the same influence.
- Climes vary Constitutions, so
- Why may not they change Fortunes too?
- Through th' habitable World I'le go,
- And if that fails, I'le search for new.
- Wit somewhere has a happy Reign,
- Or Nature gives us Thoughts in vain.
- Tho' here her bounty she provides
- For ev'ry thing which breaths besides.
-
- The Dunce made Batchelor of Art,
- Some Fustian Sermon learns by heart,
- Then Preaches 'fore a Country Squire,}
- Who his deep Learning does admire, }
- And gives him sixscore pounds a year.}
- But he must Marry th' Chamber-Maid,
- Who is, forsooth, a Mistress made:
- So he goes on with a fair hope,
- And of his Pulpit makes a Shop.
-
- So Quacks as eas'ly as they will,
- Can get Licenses to kill,
- Whil'st the hungry Poet may }
- For an _Imprimatur_ stay, }
- Till h'has eaten up his Play.}
-
- Yet since the Press has lately had
- Its Liberty, 'tis near as bad.
- For scarce a broken Shop-keeper,
- Or a cast Serving man grown bare,
- But herds among our starved Crew,
- And falls a Writing Poems too.
- The Plot, the Jesuit, and the Pope
- Are now grown Theams for ev'ry Fop.
- Who by such wretched, Ballad-ware,
- Makes Writing cheap, and Paper dear.
-
- See how the gaping Merchants range,
- Hunting their Chapmen on the Change,
- Whose Various Voices frame a sound,
- Like Billows when their Ships are drown'd,
- And in one hour more fat do sweat
- Than th' Poet in a year can get.
- Those worst of Atheists! who do hold
- There is no Deity but Gold!
- They hate the Poet 'cause he's poor,
- And only th' Golden Calf adore.
- Our Plays, they say, are wicked dear,
- Th' expence in Ballads will go far.
- Nay, I protest I've heard some say
- Plays are a kind of Popery.
- I'th' City-shops they're thought Profane,
- As were Minc'd-pies in _Cromwel_'s Reign.
- Where, when for _Dryden_'s Works I came,
- They vow'd they never heard his Name.
- But they had _Baxter_'s, if you please,
- And such-like precious things as these.
- Bless 'em from Plays; they'd rather go
- Unto a Conventicle, or so.
-
- The Stationer grows fat on th' gain,
- He sucks from the poor Poet's brain.
- He, and the Printer, who does know
- Nothing beyond the Cris-cros-row,
- Do still their Heads together joyn
- To cheat the Poet of his Coyn.
- Whil'st he, poor Drudge! must toil and sweat
- Honourable stabs to get;
- And is forc'd to sigh, and stay
- For the Lawrel 'till he's gray:
- And at last together come
- To his Honour, and his Tomb.
- Tho' when dead, his Friends may'nt raise
- Enough to gild his Fun'ral Bays.
-
- The Players, who scarce know to write
- Their Names, or spell one word aright,
- Or read their Parts, unless writ fair
- In a large _Roman_ Character,
- Call us their Slaves, who for their gain
- Must toil, and all their faults sustain.
- In gay Attire each day they shine;
- Eat well, and drink the Richest Wine,
- All fat and plump, except some few
- The _French-man_ prov'd invet'rate to.
- Look how they strut it as they go! }
- And in the streets make such a show,}
- As if they'ld there Act Princes too!}
- While th' Poet sneaking all alone
- In some by-lane where he's unknown;
- No farther than his Pot can go,
- And has a Pipe to th' bargain too.
-
- I hardly a poor Lawyer know,
- Unless some who are Poets too.
- They thrive by Rapine and Revenge,
- And making Enemies of Friends:
- Feeding on others hopes and fears,
- On Orphants groans, and Widows tears.
- In short, the World it self; and all
- We Trade, and Art, and Science call,
- Are grand Impostures; false and vain,
- Invented but to bring in gain.
-
- Astronomy does our Faith engage,
- And with dark Notions cheats the Age:
- But take off its Disguise, you'll see
- It is as feign'd as Poetry.
- Else let it for a certain show
- Whether this Globe has Wings or no,
- Or _Ovid_ blame, who said, the Sun
- Did run away with _Phaëton_.
- I cannot chuse but laugh to think
- If these poor Moon-calves had no Drink
- But that same thinnish, blewish Whey
- Press'd from green Cheese i'th' Milky-way;
- When Goddesses make the New Moon,
- How soon they'd throw their Cross-staves down!
-
- What is Geometry, I'ld know,
- But a false Brat of Fancy too?
- If 'tis a Science, let it tell
- How far from hence the Stars do dwell;
- And due proportion give between
- A _direct_ and a _crooked Line_.
- Yet while the Dotards sit at home,
- Each _Line_ is tip't with Golden _Plumme_;
- And still we find that each _Right-Angle_
- Some Gain or other does entangle;
- As Tonnellers catch Partridge; so
- Geometricians, you must know,
- Although in other things but Asses, }
- They eat, and drink, and sleep with Lasses}
- Between the Legs of their _Compasses_. }
-
- So th' Natural Philosopher
- 'S perpetual Motion keeps a stir,
- But straight his Engines rest obtain,
- And all the Motion's in his brain;
- Except some easie hand, forsooth,
- That opens but to fill his mouth.
-
- Rhet'rick, which we so much adore,
- Ne'r had a perfect Orator.
- And yet their mouths provide; I trow,}
- As lame and cripled people's do, }
- Who lie, because they cannot go. }
-
- And what is Logick, but a cheat?
- Nothing, or something worse than it.
- A _Delphick_ Sword, bends any way }
- To make Truth yield to Sophistry, }
- And bring home Gold from _BARBARA_.}
-
- The lingring Chymsts blow their fire,
- Till their own Lamps of Life expire;
- And searcheth for th' Inchanted stone,
- Till they themselves grow cold as one;
- Which they would quickly do, but that
- 'Tis written in the Book of Fate,
- The great work (much too great for one)
- Cannot be carried on alone,
- But asks more hands; and so another,
- That's Rich, helps his poor Chymick Brother.
-
- Speak, dull Philosopher; what's all
- You, in mistake, do Science call?
- Since _Socrates_ with much ado,
- Learn'd only that he nothing knew.
- There's nothing unconfin'd and free,
- Except the Soul of Poetry,
- When it does on our Organs play.
- Throw all your Mystick Books away,
- And study Natures Library:
- Mount up to Heaven's refulgent Throne,
- There by the Lab'ring Muses drawn.
- First, pause a while, then Write, and all
- The Gods to Convocation call;
- Then with Imperious frowns survey
- Poor Mortals damn'd to treading clay;
- And raising Piles, till pitying Fate
- Pulls the brick ruins on their pate.
- There laugh at Princes, who do groan
- Under the burden of a Crown:
- And condemn Riches, which we see}
- Is but a Golden Slavery; }
- We're Richer far in Poetry. }
- But hold!----
- I'm almost starv'd, as I'm a Sinner,
- Prethee, _Jack_, Trust me for a Dinner.
-
- Poor Poet! what a wretch th'art grown?
- Cast to a Dungeon from a Throne!
- Thou who but now did'st reach the Sky,
- Low as Despair art forc'd to lie:
- Those soaring thoughts thou didst admire,
- With thy Poetick rage expire.
- 'Twas but a Dream, and now I see
- Riddles unty'd to Fetter me.
- The Angels height procur'd their Thrall,
- But 'tis my lowness makes me Fall.
- Had Nature giv'n me a Rich Mine,
- As other Fops I'd happy been;
- Nor had I been exposed thus,
- To make my plaints ridiculous.
-
- For Wit and Wealth such Rivals are,
- That they can't Reign in the same Sphere,
- But as when Kings each other thwart,
- Th' unhappy Subjects feel the smart:
- So those t' whom Nature has been kind,
- Must Fortunes Rage and Malice find.
- And 'till these Friends and Partners grow,
- Who can have Wit and Money too?
- But if the World hath such a Creature,
- He's Monstrous, and not made by Nature.
- Poets are Chymists, who want skill
- To perfect Metals as they will;
- Yet Clothes, or Money, what you please,
- Be sure they'l turn to _Sack_ with ease;
- Then with that _Sack_ they can prepare }
- Castles, nay, Kingdoms in the Air, }
- And carve themselves whole Lordships there.}
- But since they here so disagree
- About a paltry Lawrel Tree,
- I wonder what a Dev'l they do,
- When to these fancy'd Lands they go:
- But hold! they'l all be De'ties there,
- And every one will have his Sphere.
- For all the Gods of which we read,
- Were by th' Almighty Poets made:
- And they who did their God-heads make,
- May at their pleasures take 'em back.
-
-
-
-
-_The Second CANTO._
-
-
- How often have I seen the Taylor,
- The Shoe-maker, and Milliner,
- And ev'ry Fop that sells his Ware,
- O're this poor Creature domineer?
- And I can't choose but let you know it,
- How a curst _Broker_ met a _Poet_,
- Walking through _Smithfield_ on a time,
- O're whom he swagger'd thus in Rhime.
-
- Is this your Wit! the Devil take it!
- For without question he did make it.
- The truest Wit is Honesty,
- And to get Coyn your Debts to pay.
- Wit is an Ass, when Money's slow;
- Nay, 'tis that makes the Ass to go.
- Why? I am but a mean Trades-man,
- And yet do more than any Poet can.
- I walk the Streets, yet fear no Dun,
- Nor in their Debts, nor from 'em run.
- Nor yet for fear of being found out,
- Do walk half a mile about.
- Altho' you're in _White-Fryers_ lurking,
- I've certain Ingeneers a working:
- And, Sir, unless you quickly pay me,
- Expect a Visit from a _Baylie_.
-
- This Language less dismaid the Poet,
- Having been long accustom'd to it:
- Howe're, he thought it not amiss
- To give him these fair promises.
-
- Sweet Sir! I vow I'm mighty sorry
- You've so long tarry'd for your Mony:
- But should you my late Suff'rings hear,
- Pity would force you to forbear.
- Howe're, as soon as th' Term begin}
- I shall recruit my self agen; }
- For my _Play_ will be ready then. }
- Last Night the _Lord_--read what I'd made on't;
- And should I tell you what he said on't,
- 'Twould be immodest in the Author;
- But you'll hear more of it hereafter.
- How'ere, to tell you as a Friend,
- He did it mightily commend.
- And 'twixt me and you, he said, }
- He did not question to perswade }
- The _King_, and _Court_, to see it Play'd.}
- And if it takes, (which I don't fear)
- 'Tmay bring an hundred pounds, or near.
- And for your great Civility,
- Sir, you're the first I intend to pay.
-
- When this Doggrel Speech was ended,}
- The Poet, having lowly bended, }
- Took his leave, by me attended. }
- We had not walk'd past half so far
- As 'twixt _Fleet-Bridge_ and _Temple-Bar_,
- Ere my sad Brother was so kind,
- As thus to let me know his mind.
-
- Oh, wretched Man! what shall I do!
- Or whither had I best to go!
- _Job_ happy was, compar'd to me,
- A Prince in th' midst of's misery.
- Oh Heavens! since all his Griefs I know,
- Why have I not his Patience too?
- Hells self less Torment does contain
- Than is lodg'd in a Poet's brain;
- Howe're we may hereafter fare,
- I'm sure we meet Damnation here.
- I'd rather be a Dog; or Cat,
- The thing which next my self I hate.
- A Snake, an Adder, or a Toad:
- To these once _Egypt_'s Dotage bow'd.
- But me, the wretched'st thing e'r Born,
- Ev'n these by instinct loath and scorn.
- Then sighing, _Oh, my Play_! he cry'd;
- My _Play_ both _Houses_ have deny'd.
- They tell me, that their Summer-store
- Will all this Winter last, or more:
- Besides, that mine won't please the Times,
- Being Tragedy, and writ in Rhimes.
- Oh, I am ruin'd utterly!
- What shall I do! _My Play_! _My Play_!
- There's no one knows what pains I took,
- Ere I stretch'd it, to a Book.
- Nine Months my _Muse_ labour'd to bring
- Forth this Abortive, hapless thing:
- And suffer'd more than can be told
- Of Summers heat, and Winters cold.
- I've walk'd from Morning until Noon,
- 'Twixt _Lyon-Fields_ and _Kentish-Town_;
- Study'ng my self hungry and dry,
- I envy'd th' Beggers on the way.
- Then being forc'd to jogg it home
- Empty as a _vacuum_:
- I'd no way to appease my _Hostess_,
- But vow my _Play_ finish'd almost is;
- Then reading what I'd made of't o're,
- She'ld trust me for one shilling more.
- But since she heard it was refus'd,
- None can guess how I've been us'd.
- 'Bout Eight o'th'Clock on Thursday Morning,
- (My Angel then giving me warning)
- I had scarce lock'd my Door, but th' Baily
- Knock'd, saying, he'd a Letter for me:
- From first to last, he knock'd an hour,
- Ere I could get him to give o're;
- But when he saw it was in vain,
- The Rogue went swearing back again.
- But from that time to Sunday Morning,
- I kept the Fort, for all their Storming.
- Then without fear away I went;
- Thanks to the _King_ and _Parlement_.
- And now it is five days compleat,
- Since I had any thing to eat:
- Nor know I where to get Relief,
- No, not one Meal to save my Life.
- I've not a Neighbour, or Relation,
- But when they see me, quit their Station,
- And from me, as a Plague, they go,
- I wish my Creditors would do so!
- The Dev'l a rag of Clothes has _Jack_
- 'Sides these you see upon my back;
- And they're so torn, I'm taken still
- For a walking Paper-Mill.
-
- My _Hat_ is like a Funnel grown,
- To vent the Vapours of my Crown.
-
- M' Eternal _Peruque_ does appear
- Golden, as _Apollo_'s Hair.
- And the Moss which hides my Face
- Is thicker, and as long as his.
-
- My _Breeches_ like th' Ship _Argo_ seem,
- Which is, and yet is not the same;
- For 'tis so patch'd, you cannot call
- One shred of 't the Original.
-
- As for my _Cloak_, 'tis well enough.
- Only 'tis out of Fashion now.
- But I'm content my Rags 't does hide,
- For this is an ill time for Pride.
-
- My _Stockings_ are worse rent and torn,
- Than ever _Poverty_ was drawn:
- And round about more _Stars_ appear }
- Than _Ursa major_ has in th' Sphere,}
- Or any _Constellation_ there. }
-
- My _Shoes_ made of thin _Spanish_ Leather,
- Do sigh, and sob this Rainy Weather:
- And in dumb Language of their own,
- Pity mine, 'cause their _Souls_ are gone.
-
- As for my _Linnen_, let 't alone,}
- It needs not a Description; }
- As I'm a Poet, I have none. }
-
- My lac'd _Crevat_ lies in _Shoe-Lane_,
- Pawn'd for Tripe, and Chitterlin,
- With an honest Mother there,
- One Mistress _Smith_, a Victualler.
-
- My _Shirt_ lies Morgag'd in a Celler,
- About the middle of _Long-Acre_,
- With a Shee-Cook, call'd _Goody Dutton_,
- For Porrage, Beans, and Chops of Mutton.
-
- Oh that I had a wooden Leg!
- Or but one Arm, then might I beg!
- I'd Steal or Cheat, did I know how,
- 'Tis better hang than perish so.
-
- I could not hear this piteous moan
- Unmov'd, nor let him sigh alone.
- But when I'd all the Comfort gave,
- He could from Friendly Advice receive;
- I lent him six-pence, which was half
- Of the small Stock I had my self.
- Then after many thanks, and vows,
- Unto _White-Fryers_ straight he goes:
- Where Bread and Cheese he said he'ld buy;
- Or fill himself with Curds and Whey.
-
- You see what Malice Fate has shown }
- To this poor Wretch, who once was known}
- To be the gayest Spark in Town. }
- One who would play at six-pence gleek,
- And go to _Creswel_'s once a week:
- Who Din'd at _Locket_'s ev'ry day,
- And sate in th' Boxes at a Play.
- Envy it self cannot dispraise
- His Poems, nor some of his Plays.
- Three of which just Applause did bear
- In the _Royal Theatre_.
- Lords and Knights desired to be
- Made happy in his Company;
- And did with a due Rev'rence mark
- Him, as he walk'd the Streets or _Park_.
- But this did in a moment cease,
- 'Twas but a sudden, short-liv'd blaze,
- Like that which is from Meteors sent,
- Which end their Shine when th' Fuel's spent.
- Running in Debt, and living High,}
- And the hissing of his last Play,}
- Did bring him to this Misery. }
-
- May all the Sons of _Helicon_ }
- Take heed, this Fate prove not their own!}
- For I've a shrewd suspicion! }
- I've seen the briskest of our Crew
- Walk peny-less, and hungry too,
- In _Temple-walks_, 'bout Dinner-time,
- Digesting his crude thoughts int' Rhime;
- Where, if he meets with a Sir-fool,
- With empty Head, and Pockets full,
- Up to him straight he'll make, and cry,
- Where does your Worship Dine to day?
- I was this Morning bid by two; }
- But Faith I don't much care to go,}
- I'd rather take a bit with you. }
- Then, stretching, swears he is not right,
- Since being plaguy drunk last Night.
- And's Company, you needs must know,
- _My Lord_--_Sir John_--and God knows who.
- But tho' the Gallant he attacks,
- Not the least Invitation makes:
- He must, he says, out of esteem,
- Not that he's Hungry, wait on him.
- Then as soon as Dinner's ended,
- And his last Work read and commended,
- (Which without Vanity, he says,
- Is th' best he writ, his Master-piece.)
- He whisp ring in his Cully's ear,
- Makes his Necessity appear:
- Tells him of his last-nights expence,
- And how he's not recruited since.
- Then begs his Pard'n, he must away,}
- To get a Ticket for th' new Play, }
- Acted at the _Duke's House_ to day.}
-
- I've sev'ral _Coffee-Houses_ known}
- By these unhappy Guests undone, }
- For People, now adays, are grown }
- So wise, they first of all peep in,}
- And if a Poet there is seen, }
- They presently down stairs agen. }
- For who a Devil cares to sit
- To be drawn by a Poet's wit?
- Sir _Am'rous_ can't make a Relation
- Of his last-nights Assignation.
- The _Sycophant_ can't exercise
- His Art, for these quick-sighted Spies:
- Nor _Fopling_ comb his Wigg, but they
- Make it a Humour for a Play.
- The Cheat, the Pick-pocket, and Bully,
- (Who're the best Guests, and spend most Money)
- Flie the loath'd House where these appear,
- As if the Constable were there.
-
- But there are some of Honour yet, }
- Who're great pretenders unto Wit, }
- And that they m'seem t' encourage it,}
- Will have a Poet at their tail;
- And whom to know that you mayn't fail,
- Has an old-fashion thread-bare Coat,
- Foul Linnen, Hat not worth a groat.
- If it be Summer, Freeze he'l wear; }
- In th' Winter Stuff, and that so bare, }
- His Lice can scarce find Harbour there.}
- Perhaps, he wears a Sword by's side,
- To 'ts Hilt one yard of Ribband ty'd.
- In fine, by all he meets, he's t'ane
- To be th' _Epitome_ of _Long-Lane_.
- And when their Lordships walk before
- To th' Tavern, or to see a Whore,
- He's caution'd not to come too nigh,
- Lest he disgrace the Company:
- But b'hind like one new fluxt does crawl,
- And lets each Foot-boy take the Wall.
- But when he comes to th' place design'd,
- Their Lordships use to seem more kind.
- There he may swagger, swear, and lie,
- And do any thing--but pay.
- Then after a sufficient stay,
- Borrows a Crown, and so good-by'e.
-
-
-
-
-_The Third CANTO._
-
-
- I'd e'en forgot to let you know
- The Club w' once kept in _Channel-row_;
- Where _A_. & _B. C. D._ & _I_,
- Were th' elements o' th' Company:
- But all which past there was so common,
- 'Tis scarce worth th' pains of a Relation,
- How they kept a hideous pother,
- Damning the Times, and one another.
- Who most Glasses did destroy,
- Or with most Courage beat the Boy.
- How such-a-one commends a Whore,
- Which t'other prizes Sack before.
- Or who so neatly div'd away,
- Ere he his Reckoning did pay.
- Humours so trite as these, are known
- To ev'ry Tapster in the Town.
- But e're they so unruly grew,
- Thus each ones Character I drew.
-
- _A._ as 'tis first in th' Alphabet,
- So here he took the highest seat.
- As one whose Fortune, Birth, and Wit,
- Indeed did truly merit it.
- And here he neither struts nor swaggers,
- As I have known some Kings o' th' Beggers.
- But that convenient distance gave,
- Which else they'ld take without his leave.
- But him let all with Rev'rence name
- The Darling, and the Pride of Fame:
- Who's so all over wrapt in Bays,
- There's nothing to be seen but's Praise.
- He's one t' whom each Officious Muse
- Were of their Favours so profuse,
- That they have brought themselves to be
- Fed by his Mercy now; and we,
- The little Infants of the Art, }
- Do as severely feel the smart, }
- Deny'd a Younger Brothers part. }
- Nay, all our stocks won't mount t' a sum
- To pay him an _Encomium_.
- He's one whose Works, in times to come,
- Will be as Honour'd, and become
- Deathless as _Ben's_ or _Cowley's_ are, }
- As _Beaumont_, _Fletcher_, or _Shakespear_,}
- One he himself is pleas'd t' admire. }
- Nor could these Laureats living, be
- Better prefer'd, or lov'd than he.
- What could the _Muses_ more have done,
- Or _Apollo_ for a Son?
- Yet still he discontented is,
- And snarles at all the happiness
- The Richest Poetry can bring,
- And wounds it too with its own Sting.
- But who can blame that Active Soul,
- Which in a larger Sphere would roul?
- Whose Wit and Learning does deserve
- More than that narrow Art can give.
-
- Next unto _A. B._ took his place,
- Or Sir _Fopling_, if you please.
- I mean that Famous Limner, who
- So exactly his own Picture drew.
- Bless me! how neat a Wigg he has!
- What a rich Watch and Pocket-Glass!
- What a gay Suit trim'd all about!
- Made by a _French-man_ without doubt.
- His Ruffles and Cravat's all Lace,
- _Poynt a Venice_ he says it is.
- To what advantage does he wear
- His Rings? How stuft with Stones they are?
- One having this Inscription,
- _My Plow is all my Portion_.
- For you must know he's kept by a Miss,
- A _French_ one too, I've heard she is;
- Whose Favours tho' he strives to shew,
- Her scars he has, I assure you too.
- Here I must his Description end,
- For fear he should a Challenge send.
- Tho' he had better stay at home,
- To Hector Foot-boy, or a Groom.
-
- On th' other side Heroick _C._
- Did seat himself most formally.
- Whose Clothes now did not seem so bad,
- Because he lately vampt 'em had.
- His Hat new dress'd, darn'd were his Hose,
- And neatly underlay'd his Shoes.
- His Lac'd Cravats again appear, }
- And his kind Laundress lets him wear}
- His Ruffles, and an Hankercher. }
- And now he seems to be a made Man,
- Since he an Int'rest got in _Cadem_--
- Who now-and-then does not refuse
- A Crown, t' encourage a slow Muse,
- A Dish of Coffee, or Bochet,
- Or on a Sunday a Meals-meat.
- And 'tis most Charitably done,
- T' encourage such a wretched one,
- Without hopes of a Recompence,
- At least 'till two or three years hence,
- About which time his Play, we guess,
- Will be ready for the Press.
- He's one who much of _Oxford_ talks,
- Its stately Structures, Air, and Walks:
- Who, in his time, were Proctors there; }
- How often he was caught, and where, }
- Or with what craft he 'scap'd the snare.}
- But if you speak one word of's Chumb,
- The man immediately grows dumb.
-
- Then who sat next, if you would know it,
- 'Twas _D._ the brisk lack-latine Poet;
- Who'll talk of _Virgil_ and _Horatius_,
- _Homer_, _Ovid_, and _Lucretius_.
- And by the help of I know who,
- Sometimes presumes to quote 'em too.
- He's the fam'd Comedian of the Town,}
- Who near a dozen Plays does own, }
- Tho' I dare swear he ne'r writ one: }
- But he has good Acquaintance, thô,
- I am inform'd, a Lord or two,
- To whom he brings the lump; and they
- Club to mould it to a Play.
- And if my Author tells me right,
- Epistles too themselves they write.
- May they continue to do so, }
- Or else poor _D._ to th' Goal must go,}
- _Angling for single Money in a Shoe_. }
-
- Lastly, I must my self explain,
- One of the same unhappy Train:
- Who neither Wit or Learning boast,
- For both are in a Poet lost.
- Scatter'd to nought in his Carreer,
- Through Airy Roads, he knows not where.
- Neither do I hope to find
- One grain of Fortune left behind.
- For all I grasp'd which pleas'd me here,
- Whether they Wealth, or Honours were,
- As soon they were snatch'd back again,
- And swallow'd in this Hurricane.
- But, Sir, I need not op'e to you }
- These Ulcers of my Fate anew, }
- You've seen so oft, and pitty'd too.}
- I'll therefore only blame the Cause
- Which did such Miseries produce:
- And then for ever bid good-by'e
- To that starv'd Hag of Poetry.
-
-
-
-
-_The Fourth CANTO._
-
-
- _Phoebus!_ art thou the God of Wit,
- Yet takest no more care of it?
- Because thou art invok'd by us,
- Must we be damn'd and tortur'd thus?
- And art resolv'd, lean Poverty
- Shall still thy Badge and Liv'ry be?
- As well, let Paper-Mills, and all
- The lousie Tribe of Begger's Hall,
- With the ragged Gipsie-Crue,
- Be Dedicated to thee too!
- All the _Muses_ ask thee why
- Thou 'dopt'st 'em to such Slavery!
- And suffer'st ev'ry Fop in Town, }
- For to insult and trample on }
- These rad'ent Di'dems of thy Crown!}
- Sure thou want'st _Pow'r_ to Rule below;
- For 'tis not _Policy_ to do so.
- No! _Kings_ their Greatness do secure
- By their _Subjects_ Wealth and Pow'r.
- Nay, th' _Gods_ may lose their Deities,
- If their Religious _Votaries_
- Do so Poor and Needy grow,
- That they want _Victims_ to bestow.
- But Wit will above all things cease,
- Deny'd the helps of Wealth and Ease.
- It must be cherish'd and kept warm;
- Which, like the _Halcyon_, hates a Storm.
- But since I find I am us'd so,
- And treated worse than _Turk_ or _Jew_:
- Since the Tinker and his Trull
- Strut it with their Bellies full:
- Since the Cobler and the Sweep-Chimney
- Live happier and more safe than me,
- I'll quit thy Service, great _Apollo_,
- And some new Vocation follow:
- And tear thy _Idea's_ from my Brain,
- With thy starv'd, wretched Female Train.
-
- But must I from thy Service go
- Naked, in mid'st of Winter too?
- Did I for this a year, or more,
- Thy Airy, empty Shrine adore?
- Are thus my Cares and Watchings pay'd?
- The thousand Vows and Pray'rs I made?
- The Lights which on thy Altar shone,
- When thou wert forc'd to hide thy own?
- Think how ost thou hast me espy'd
- Walking by such a Rivers side!
- When I saw thy shining Beam
- Gild the smooth Surface of the Stream,
- Thou know'st I did thy Image greet,
- And sang a thousand Hymns to it.
- But since I find I am thus serv'd,
- Rent and torn, and almost starv'd,
- Yet would'st thou have me longer stay
- To expect a fairer Day?
- Should I be couzen'd to do so,
- And again my Vows renew,
- My Case would never better'd be }
- Under thy Conduct, no, tho' I }
- Should share in th' Immortality.}
-
- Loath'd Muse! Hag of my rest, be gone!
- Who'rt Scandalous as Av'rice grown:
- Common as any _Whetstone_-Whore,
- Where Poets learn their Stage-Amour.
- Go jilt among thy Vot'ries there,
- And clap 'em with Poetick fire!
- Flie to some Rhymer of the Town,
- By his lean, hungry Visage known!
- That Renegado, whifling Blade,
- Who's not himself but when he's Mad!
- But 'tis not all thy _Syren_-charms
- Can again tempt me to thy Arms:
- For I too well thy Couz'nage know,
- Thy hollow Heart, and painted Brow.
- How first thou to my Brain did'st creep,
- And whil'st my Sense was lock'd in sleep,
- Thou did'st before my Fancy's Eye
- A thousand gaudy Fantasms lay.
- Then thorow false Perspectives show
- Groves, where gilded Lawrels grow.
- And ev'ry Tree's Ambrosiack Root
- With Arms of Nectar clasp'd about,
- In whose bright Streams I did espie
- Nine Naked Airy Ladies play:
- Some swimming on their Backs were seen,
- Who rise aloft, then dive agen;
- Whilst others yet more Am'rous grew,}
- And seem'd not only to bestow }
- Brimmers, but gave Embraces too. }
- And th' little Mansions where they dwell,}
- Were some of Gold, and some of Pearl, }
- Tyl'd and Pav'd with Tortoise-shell. }
-
- A hundred things as vain as these,
- Did once my partial Fancy please:
- But when I look'd about to know
- Whether they real were, or no;
- I apprehended the mistake,
- As Dreams of Pleasures when we 'wake.
- For when the crafty _Muses_ thought
- They'd me for a Disciple got;
- They took the painted Scene away;
- Lay'd down their Smiles and Flattery,
- And now in their own Shapes appear
- Rough, and Ghastly, as they are.
-
- Wherefore once more, Ladies adieu!
- Farewel to _England_, and to you.
- For I'm resolv'd; and now ev'n Gain
- Shan't draw me to yee back again.
- Tho' _Juno_ should assure me more,
- Than she did _Paris_ heretofore:
- Or _Venus_ too at the same time;
- I would not give 'em thanks in Rhyme.
- No, tho' should all of you agree
- To give your _Helicon_ to me.
- Tho' those dear Bays I once did woo, }
- Should strive to cling about my Brow;}
- Nay, thô they were gilded too. }
- I'ld thence those fruitless Branches tear,
- And throw 'em with my Muse in th' fire.
- So what she so long courted, shall
- At last adorn her Funeral.
-
- Here I would end, be'ng much in hast,
- And tyr'd with scribbling so fast:
- Howe're a word or two I'll add,
- Lest you infer from what I've said,
- That Poverty's the only cause
- Which makes me thus desert my Muse.
- Thus far, indeed, the cause 't'as bin,
- As 'tis th' effect of such a sin.
- For who 'n that Art can hope to thrive,
- Which does such wicked Licence give?
- Whose first Founders _Pagans_ were,
- Groping for Truth they knew not where?
- And shall we _Christians_ Sacrifice
- To their Fantastick _Deities_?
- No, were I Rich 'nough to set up,
- I would not keep a Poet's Shop;
- Nor Traffick in such dang'rous Ware,
- They sell so cheap, and buy so dear.
- I'ld not pick up each Whore I meet, }
- Give her a _Guynie_ and a Treat; }
- Nor maintain Pimps nor Bawds for wit.}
- No, I'ld not give one brass Half-crown
- For all the Bawdry in the Town:
- For all th' Intrigues your _Whetstone_-Bawd,
- _More-Fields_, or _Tower-Hill_ afford.
- To see _Miss Betty_ ev'ry day,
- Dance Naked, or the Tumbler play.
- How well upon her Head she stood,
- Or with what Art she us'd the Rod.
- Or how she was unrig'd and kick'd,
- When _Sir John_ found his Pockets pick'd.
-
- I have not been at _Newgate_ yet,
- To learn the Lifter, or the Cheat.
- But such lewd Learning let alone
- To the brisk _Poets_ of the _Town_.
-
-_FINIS._
-
-PRESS VARIANTS
-
-AND
-
-NOTES
-
-
-
-
-PRESS VARIANTS
-
-
-Copies collated: Clark (CLC); Trinity College, Cambridge, H. 6. 93^9
-(CT1) and H. 10. 28^6 (CT2); British Museum (L); Folger (WF1);
-Folger/Luttrell (WF2).
-
-
-Sheet B--Outer Forme.
-
-_Uncorrected_: CT1, CT2, L, WF1.
-
-_Corrected_: CLC, WF2.
-
-B4^v, _l._ 7. Paragraph indentation supplied.
-
-
-Sheet B--Inner Forme.
-
-_Uncorrected_: CLC, CT1, WF1.
-
-_Corrected_: CT2, L, WF2.
-
-B4^r, _l._ 1. Chymsts] Chymists
-
-
-Sheet C--Inner Forme.
-
-_Uncorrected_: CT1, CT2, CLC
-
-_Corrected_: L, WF1, WF2.
-
-C3^v, _l._ 15. _Peruque_] _Perruque_
-
-C4^r, _l._ 13. _Crevat_] _Cravat_
-
-
-
-
-NOTES
-
-
-These notes are of necessity selective and are chiefly concerned with
-the identification of persons. No attempt has been made to indicate the
-complex textual relationships of the two versions. Where detailed
-evidence for identifications is not given, the reader is referred to the
-article mentioned above.
-
-Title-page. _Parve_ ... _qụ_-. Ovid, _Tristia_, I, i, 1-2.
-
-A2^v-A3^v. The authors of the extracts are Dryden, Shadwell, Lacy, Lee,
-and Banks. The Banks extract is unlikely to have been in print for more
-than a few weeks at the time _PdT_ was published. The corresponding list
-in _PC_ is called "Quotations" and contains twenty-three passages of
-which only two reappear in _PdT_.
-
-A4^r: 15-16. _Philip, the first Christian Emperour._ Marcus Julius
-Philipus, c. 204-249.
-
-P. 2: 21-22. _Yet ... Liberty._ The press regained its liberty through
-the expiry of the Licensing Act in 1679. This passage does not occur in
-_PC_ and may be one of the "Ingenious Person's" additions to _PdT_.
-
-P. 3: 28. _Cris-cros-row._ I.e., Christ-cross-row. The alphabet with a
-cross before it as represented in horn books.
-
-P. 4: 4. _Honourable stabs._ Perhaps a reference to the attack on Dryden
-in Rose Alley on 16 December 1679, which was popularly attributed to
-various honorable persons satirized in Mulgrave's _An Essay upon Satyr_.
-
-P. 4: 9-10. _Tho' ... Bays._ Cf. John Aubrey on the funeral of Samuel
-Butler on 27 September 1680:
-
- About 25 of his old acquaintance at his Funerall. I myself being
- one of the eldest, helped to carry the Pall. His coffin covered
- with black Bayes. (_Brief Lives_, ed. O. L. Dick [London, 1958], p.
- 47.)
-
-P. 6: 7. _As Tonnellers catch Partridge._ A tunnel was a kind of net
-used by bird-catchers.
-
-P. 6: 21-22. _As ... go._ Cf. Donne's "A Lame Begger," _The Satires,
-Epigrams and Verse Letters_, ed. W. Milgate (Oxford, 1969), p. 51.
-
-P. 6: 27. _BARBARA._ The opening word of a mnemonic used in expressing
-the moods of the syllogism.
-
-P. 7: 21. _Lab'ring Muses._ _PC_ has "tab'ring" (i.e., playing on
-tabors), a fairly clear case of _lectio difficilior_.
-
-P. 10: 6. _How a curst Broker met a Poet._ The earlier part of the
-description seems to be hinting at the distresses of John Banks, who was
-reduced to poverty after two of his plays met censorship trouble;
-however, the closing section on pp. 16-17 is clearly meant to refer to
-Wycherley. It is possible that this is another of the "Ingenious
-Person's" additions. Indeed it would have to be as Wycherley's troubles
-did not begin until after the date given for the departure of the Poeta.
-
-P. 10: 21. _White-Fryers._ The sanctuary area on the city side of the
-Temple: Shadwell's Alsatia.
-
-P. 12: 1-2. _half ... Temple-Bar._ I.e., Whitefriars.
-
-P. 12: 26. _Being Tragedy, and writ in Rhimes._ Dryden abandoned rhyme
-with _All for Love_ (1677). Cf. Elkanah Settle's complaint in the
-preface to _Ibrahim_ (licensed 4 May 1676): "Another misfortune the Play
-had, that it was written in Rhime, a way of writing very much out of
-Fashion...."
-
-P. 16: 9. _Where Bread and Cheese he said he'ld buy._ This detail has
-some resemblance to a circumstance in Shiels and Cibber's account of
-the death of Otway, which may derive from a mistaken belief that he was
-the subject of the passage. See R. G. Ham, _Otway and Lee_ (New Haven,
-1931), p. 214.
-
-P. 16: 14. _One who would play at six-pence gleek._ The index of
-extravagance at gleek seems to have advanced alarmingly in the course of
-the seventeenth century. Jonson in _The Devil is an Ass_ (V, ii, 31)
-specifies three-pence; however, Shadwell in 1680 was already foreseeing
-a shilling (_Works_, ed. M. Summers, IV, 60).
-
-P. 16: 15. _Creswel's._ The famous bawdy house, finally closed down in
-1681.
-
-P. 16: 16. _Locket's._ An ordinary at Charing-Cross mentioned in many
-Restoration comedies.
-
-P. 16: 21. _the Royal Theatre._ Presumably the Theatre Royal, Drury
-Lane, although the term could equally well be meant for the theatre at
-Whitehall.
-
-P. 17: 7. _the briskest of our Crew._ Probably Dryden, although the
-description has some problematical features. The fact that the poet is a
-rhymer and connected with the Duke's house rules out most other
-possibilities.
-
-P. 19: 1. _Will have a Poet at their tail._ Possibly Otway. In _PC_ (pp.
-2-3), a shorter version of the description is combined with lines from
-the "Dryden" portrait--the one piece of evidence for the truncation
-theory:
-
- Then there are mighty Peers o' th' Realm,
- Whose conduct helps to steer the Helm:
- They're great pretenders unto Wit.
- And that they may seem to incourage it
- They'll have a Poet at their Tail:
- And that to know him they mayn't fail,
- He has an old fashion thread-bare Coat,
- Foul Linnen, Hat not worth a Groat;
- One points and cries, there goes _Long-lane_,
- Another cries, he's Long-and-Lean.
- For like one newly fluxt he'l crawl,
- And lets the Foot-Boys take the Wall.
- But when to th' Tavern they do go,
- Their Honours will more freedom show;
- There they may Swagger Swear and Lye,
- And doe any thing, but Pay:
- Damn ye, I din'd with such a Lord to Day,
- And such a Lord did like my Play:
- And without Vanity it is
- The best I writ, my Master-piece.
-
-P. 20: 2. _Channel-row._ The scene of this canto is Arthur Prior's
-Rhenish house in Channel-row near Whitehall.
-
-P. 20: 19. _A. as 'tis first in th' Alphabet._ In view of his exalted
-station, wealth, and Whiggish company, it is probably safe to identify
-"A" with Charles Sackville, Sixth Earl of Dorset, who is known as a
-habitué of Prior's wineshop through the stories of his encouragement of
-the owner's nephew Matthew. However, most details would apply equally
-well--in his own mind at least--to another prominent patron of the day,
-John Sheffield, Earl of Mulgrave. In this connection, it is interesting
-to note that Mulgrave's account at Child's bank records a payment of
-£20/--/--made on 14 May 1683 to a Thomas Wood. The name was, naturally,
-a common one.
-
-P. 21: 28. _And wounds it too with its own Sting._ Presumably a
-reference to Dorset's "On Mr. Edward Howard upon his British Princes" or
-Mulgrave's "An Essay upon Satyr." Both poems may be found in the first
-volume of the Yale _Poems on Affairs of State_ series (ed. George
-deForrest Lord [New Haven, 1963]).
-
-P. 22: 3. _Next unto A. B. took his place._ Sir George Etherege. The
-opening lines anticipate Dean Lockier's comment recorded by Spence that
-"he was exactly his own Sir Fopling Flutter" which may on the other hand
-be derived from it. See Joseph Spence, _Observations, Anecdotes, and
-Characters of Books and Men_, ed. James M. Osborn (Oxford, 1966), p.
-281.
-
-P. 22: 17. _For you must know he's kept by a Miss._ Frederick Bracher
-has pointed out in a letter that Etherege was closely connected at this
-time with the circle of the Duchesse de Mazarin. See James Thorpe's note
-on "A Song on Basset," _The Poems of Sir George Etherege_ (Princeton,
-1963), pp. 85-87.
-
-P. 22: 25. _Heroick C._ Elkanah Settle.
-
-P. 23: 7. _Cadem_----. William Cademan, Settle's principal publisher.
-
-P. 23: 23. _But if you speak one word of's Chumb._ Probably William
-Buller Fyfe, an Oxford friend who had assisted Settle with his first
-play, _Cambyses_. Fyfe was dead by the time the play reached the stage
-and Settle was criticized for bringing it out under his own name only.
-
-P. 23: 26. _D. the brisk lack-latine Poet._ Thomas Shadwell. The
-accusation that he knew no Latin was repeated by Dryden in _The
-Vindication of the Duke of Guise_ (1683) and is denied with
-characteristic stridency by Shadwell in _The Tenth Satyr of Juvenal_
-(1687). The accusation that his plays were partly written by others is
-made by Dryden in _Mac Flecknoe_ ("But let no alien Sedley interpose")
-and is present by implication in Rochester's reference in "Timon" to
-"Shadwell's unassisted former Scenes...." Shadwell began his career as
-the collaborator of the aged Duke of Newcastle and acknowledges Sedley's
-help in his best comedy, _A True Widow_ (1678). He was on good terms
-with Rochester, Dorset, and Buckingham and addressed dedications to the
-two last. The references to Horace and Lucretius allude to the preface
-to _The Humorists_ and the opening scene of _The Virtuoso_,
-respectively.
-
-P. 24: 14. _Angling for single Money in a Shoe._ This line from the
-Epilogue to _The Libertine_ (1676) is quoted in context in the Author's
-Epistle. It also appears on the title-page of _PC_.
-
-P. 27: 14. _Whetstone-Whore_. A reference to Whetstone Park, a street at
-the North end of Lincoln's Inn Fields. The name was subsequently changed
-to Whetstone St., but has since reverted, perhaps under the
-liberalizing influences of its principal present-day occupants, _The New
-Statesman_ and the Olivetti typewriter company.
-
-P. 30: 12-17. _To ... pick'd._ The reference is apparently to one of the
-"posture artists" of Moorfields, another brothel district; however,
-there may also be an allusion intended to an incident in the Duke's
-playhouse on 23 June 1679, when John Churchill, the future Duke of
-Marlborough, attempted to cane Betty Mackerell, an orange girl, and was
-thrashed in his turn by Thomas Otway. See Ham, _Otway and Lee_, pp.
-112-115.
-
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-J. Kolb and J. E. Congleton.
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-by Harold Love.
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-English Stage [A New Catalogue of English Plays]_, 1687. Introduction by
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-[1674] by Elkanah Settle; and _The Empress of Morocco. A Farce_ [1674]
-by Thomas Duffett), with an Introduction by Maximillian E. Novak. 348
-pages.
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-[1670]; the "operatic" _Tempest_ [1674]; Thomas Duffett's _Mock-Tempest_
-[1675]; and the "Garrick" _Tempest_ [1756]), with an Introduction by
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-(1719), and Aaron Hill, Preface to _The Creation_ (1720).
-
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-1949-1950
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-19. Susanna Centlivre, _The Busie Body_ (1709).
-
-20. Lewis Theobald, _Preface to the Works of Shakespeare_ (1734).
-
-22. Samuel Johnson, _The Vanity of Human Wishes_ (1749), and two
-_Rambler_ papers (1750).
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-(1704).
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-Thomas Rowley_ (1782).
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-Between Verbal and Practical Virtue_ (1742).
-
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-Character of the Late Samuel Johnson_ (1786).
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-135. Sir John Hill, _Hypochondriasis, a Practical Treatise_ (1766).
-
-136. Thomas Sheridan, _Discourse ... Being Introductory to His Course of
-Lectures on Elocution and the English Language_ (1759).
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-
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-
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-(1762).
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-Pot or a Compleat Key to the Dissertation on Dumpling_ (1727).
-
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-
-142. Anthony Collins, _A Discourse Concerning Ridicule and Irony in
-Writing_ (1729).
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-Travels of Captain Lemuel Gulliver_ (1726).
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- Transcriber's Notes:
-
- Obvious spelling and typos corrected in the prose. Poetry lines
- corrected to image.
-
- In this version superscripts are introduced by the caret character,
- e.g. 28^6
-
-
-
-
-
-End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of Poeta de Tristibus: Or, the Poet's
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