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A neighbour's madness, or his spouse's,

Away they came, through thick and thin, Or what's in either of the houses :

To a tall house near Lincoln's-inn: But something much more our concern,

('Twas on the night of a debate, And quite a scandal not to learn :

When all their lordships had sate late.) Which is the happier, or the wiser,

Behold the place, where if a poet A man of merit, or a miser?

Sbin'd in description, he might show it; Whether we ought to chuse our friends,

Tell how the moon-beam trembling falls, For their own worth, or our own ends?

And tips with silver all the walls; What good, or better, we may call,

Palladian wails, Venetian doors, And what, the very best of all?

Grotesco roofs, aud stucco floors: Our friend Dan Prior told (you know)

But let it (in a word) be said, A tale extremely “à propos :"

The Moon was up, and men a-bed, Name a town life, and in a trice

The napkins white, the carpet red : He had a story of two mice.

The guests withdrawn had left the treat, Once on a time (so runs the fable)

And down the mice sate, “ tête à tête." A country mouse, right hospitable,

Our courtier walks from disb to dish, Receiv'd a town mouse at his board,

Tastes for his friend of fowl and fish; Just as a farmer might a lord.

Tells all their names, lays down the law. A frugal mouse, upon the whole,

Que ça est bon ! Ah goûtez ça! Yet lov'd his friend, and had a soul,

“ That jelly's rich, this malmsex healing, Knew what was handsome, and would do't, Pray dip your whiskers and your tail in.” On just occasion, “ coûte qui coûte.”

Was ever such a happy swain ? He brought himn bacon (nothing lean);

He stuffs and swills, and stuffs again. Pudding, that might have pleas'd a dean; " I'm quite asham'd—'tis mighty rude Cheese, such as men in Suffolk make,

To eat so much—but all's so good. But wish'd it Stilton for his sake;

I have a thousand thanks to give Yet, to his guest though no way sparing,

My lord alone knows how to live.” He eat himself the rind and paring.

No sooner said, but from the hall Our courtier scarce could touch a bit,

Rush chaplain, butler, dogs and all : But show'd his breeding and his wit ;

A rat, a rat! clap to the door"He did his best to seem to eat,

The cat comes houncing on the floor. And cry'd, “ I vow you're mighty neat.

O for the heart of Homer's mice, But Lord, my friend, this savage scene !

Or gols to save them in a tricc! For God's sake, come, and live with men: (It was by Providence they think, Consider, mice, like mnen, must die,

For your damn'd stucco has no chink.) Both small and great, both you and I:

“ An't please your bonour," quoth the peasant, Then spend your life in joy and sport;

" This same dessert is not so pleasant : (This doctrine, friend, I learn’d at court.)"

Give me again my hollow tree,
The veriest hermit in the nation

A crust of bread, and liberty !”
May yield, God knows, to strong temptation.
Legibus insanis : seu quis capit acria fortis

BOOK IV. ODE I.
Pocula ; seu modicis uvescit latius. ergo
Sermo oritur, non de villis domibusve alienis, (nos Again? new tumults in my breast?
Nec male necne Lepos saltet : sed quod magis ad
Pertinet, et nescire malum est, agitamus; utruinne

Ah spare me, Venus ! let me, let me rest! Divitiis homines, an sint virtute biati :

Agrestem pepulere, domo levis exsilit: inde Quidve ad amicitias, usus rectumne, trahat nos: Ambo propositum peragunt iter, urbis aventes Et quæ sit natura boni, summumque quid ejus. Mænia nocturni subreper?. jamque tenebat Cervjus hæc inter vicinus garrit aniles

Nox medium cæli spatium, cuin ponit uterque Ex re fabellas. si quis nam laudat Arelli

In locuplete domo restigia: rubro ubi cocco Solicitas ignarus opes; sic incipit : Olim

Tincta surer lictos candoret vestis eburnos; Rusticus urbanum murem mus paupere fertur Multaque de magna superessent fercula corna, Accepisse cavo, veterem vetus hospes amicum ; Que procul extructis inerant hesterra canistris. Asper, et attentus qua-sitis; ut tamen arctum Erço ubi purr uren porrectuin in veste locarit Solveret hospitiis animun, quid multa: neque illi Agri-sten ; veluti succinctus cursitat hospes, Sepositi ciceris, nec longæ invidit arenae: Continuatque dapes: rce non verniliter ipsis Ariduni et ore ferens acinum, semesaque lardi Pingitur officiis pralambens omne quod affert. Frusta dedit, cupiens raria fastidia cæna

Ille cubans can let mutata sorte, bonisque Vincere tangentis male singula dente superbo : Rebus arit lium conrivam : cum subito ingens Cum pater ipse domus palca porrectus in horna Valvarum strepitus lectis excussit utrumqie. Esset ador loliumqne, dapis meliora relinquens. Currere per totum paridi conclave; magisque Tandein urbanus ad hunc; quid te jurat, inquit, Exanim s trepilare, simul domus alta molossis Prærupti nemoris patientem vivere dorso? (amice, Peronnit capibus. tum rusticus, Daud mihi vita Vin' tu homines urbemque feris præponere sylvis fst opus hac, ait, et valeas: me sylra, cavusque Carpe viam (mihi crede) comes : terrestria quando Tutus ab insidiis tenui solabitur ervo. Níortales animas vivunt sortita, neque ulla est, Aut magno aut parvo, leti fuga, quo, bone, circa, Dum licet, in rebus jucundis vive beatus : INTERMISSA, Venus, diu Tive memor quam sis ævi brevis. Hæc ubi dicta Rursus bella moves ? parce precor, precor.

TO VENUS.

AD VENERIM.

I ain not now, alas! the man

Thee, dress'd in Fancy's airy beam, As in the gentle reign of my queen Anne.

Absent I follow through th' extended dream ; Ah sound no more thy soft alarıns,

Now, now I cease, I clasp thy charins, Nor circle sober fifty with thy charms!

And now you burst (ah cruel!) from my arms! Mother too tierce of dear desires !

Anıl swiftly shoot along the Mall,
'Turn, turn to willing hearts your wanton fires. Or softly glide by the canal.
To muinber five direct your doves, (luves; Now shown by Cynthia's silver ray,

Th re spread round Murray all your blooining And now on rolling waters snatch'd away.
Noble and young, who strikes the heart
With every sprightly, every decent part;

Cur facunda parum dccoro
Equal, the injur'd to defend,

Inter verba cadit lingua silentio ?
To charm the mistress, or to fix the friend. Nocturnis te ego somniis
He, with a hunired arts refin’d,

Jam captum teneo. jam volucrem sequor
Shail stretch thy conquests over half the kind! Te per gramina Martii
To him each rival shall submit,

Campi, te per aquas, dure, volubiles,
Make but his riches equal to his wit.
Then shall thy forin the marble grace,

('Thy Grecian forin) and Chloe lend the face; PAR: OF THE NINTH ODE OF THE FOURTB His house, embosom'd in the grove,

BOOK.
Sacred to social life and social love,
Shall glitter o'er the pendant green,
Where Thames reflects the visionary scene :

LAST you should think that verse shall die,
Thither the silver-sounding lyres

Which sounds the silver Thames along,
Shall call the smiling Loves, and young Desires ; | Taught on the wings of Truth to fly
There, every Grace and Muse shall throug,

Above the reach of vulgar song;
Exalt the dance, or animate the song ;

Though daring Milton sits sublime, There youths and nymphs, in consort gay,

la Spenser native Moses play ; Shall hail the rising, close the partiug day. Nor yet shall Waller yield to time, With me, alas ! those joys.are v'er;

Nor pensive Cowley's moral lay-
Fur me the vernal garlands bloom no more.
Adieu ! fond hope of mutual lire,

Sages and chicfs long since had birth
The still believing, still renew'd desire;

Ere Cæsar was, or Newton nam'd; Adieu ! the heart-expanding bowl,

Then rais'd new empires o'er the Earth, And all the kind deceivers of the soul!

And those, new heavens and systens fram'd. But why? ah tell me, ah too dear!

Vain was the chief's, the sage's pride! . Steals down iny cheek th' involuntary tear ? They had no poet, and they died: Why words so Nowing, thoughts so free,

lu vain they schein'd, in vain they bled ! Stop, or turn nonseuse, at one glauce of thee? They had no puet, and are dead.

A FRAGMENT.

MISCELLANIES.

ON RECEIVING FROM THE RIGHT HON. LADY

FRÍVES SHIRLEY,

A STANDISI AND TWO PENS.

Yes, I beh ld ti' Athenian queen

Discend in ail ber solver charms;
And take" (she said, and smil'd serene)
“ Take at this hand celestial arts.

Non sum qualis eram bonæ

Sub regno Cynaræ. desine,dulcium Mater sæva Cupidinum,

Circa lustra decom flectere mollibus Jam durnın iinperiis : abi

Quo blandip juvepum te revocant preces. l'empestivius in domum

Paulli, purpureis ales oloribus, Cummissabere Maximi;

Si torrere jecur quæris idoneun, Namque et noivilis, et dicens,

Et pro solicitis non tacitus reis, Et centum puer artium,

Late signa feret militiæ tua. Et, quanitoque potentior

Largis muneribus riscuit æmuli, Albanos prope te lacus

Ponet marmoreain sub trale citrea. Dlic plurima naribus

Duces thura ; lyraque et Berecynthia Delectaber tibia

Mixtis carminibus, non sine fistula. Illic bis pueri uie

Numen cum teneris virginibus tuum Laudantes, pede candido

In murim Salium tír quatieut huiiım. Me nec fiinma, nec pullit

Jain, nec pros animi credula mutui, Wir curtarr invat inero.

Nec vin in noris templa fribus. Sed car, beu' Ligurin, cur

Maoat rara tcas lacryma per zenas.

Ve forte credas interitura, quæ

Longe conantem natus ad Autidum
Von ute vulyatas per artes

Verba loquor socianda chordis;
Non, si prior, Viconictinet
Series Humerus, Pindarra latent
Ceque, et lleai minces

Stesichorique graves Camenær
Nec si quid oli liisit Anacreon,
Duevit retas: spirit adhuc amor,
Viulque cognissi ealorea

Folia vdibus puellæ.
Viser: fortes autremena
Multi; sed omnes illarryirabiles
Cigeniur ignonique longa

luni, Carint quia vole sacro:

EPISTLE TO

EPISTLE TO

Secure the radiant weapons wield;

When interest calls off all her sneaking train, This golden lance shall guard desert,

And all th' oblig'd desert, and all the vain; And if a vice dares keep the field,

She waits, or tu the scaffold, or the cell, This steel shall stab it to the heart.”

When the last lingering friend has bid farewell. Aw'd, on my bended knees I fell,

Ev'n now she shades thy evening-walk with bays Receiv'd the weapons of the sky;

(No hireling she, no prostitute to praise); And dinp'd them in the sable well,

Ev'n now, observant of the parting ray, The fount of fame or infamy.

Eyes the calm sun-set of thy various day,

Through Fortune's cloud one truly great can see • What well? what weapon ?” (Flavia cries)

Nor fears to tell, that Mortimer is he. “ A standish, steel and golden pen! It came from Bertrand's, not the skies;

I gave it you to write again.
“ But, friend, take heed whom you attack;
You'll bring a house (I mean of peers)

JAMES CRAGGS, ES2.
Red, blue, and green, nay white and black,
J.
and all about your ears.

SECRETARY OF STATE IN THE YEAR 1720. “ You'd write as smooth again on glass,

A Soul as full of worth, as void of pride, And run, on ivory, so glib,

Which nothing seeks to show, or needs to hide ; As not to stick at fool or ass,

Which nor to guilt, nor fear, its caution owes, Nor stop at fattery or fib.

And boasts a warmth that from no passion flows : “ Athenian queen! and sober charms!

A face untaught to feign; a judging eye, I tell vou, fool, there's nothing in't ;

That darts severe upon a rising lie, "Tis Venus, Venus gives these arms ;

And strikes a blush through frontless flattery : In Dryden's Virgil see the print.

All this thou wert; and being this before, Come, if you'll be a quiet soul,

Know, kings and fortune cannot make thee more. That dares tell neither truth nor lies,

Then scorn to gain a friend by servile ways, P'll list you in the harmless roll

Nor wish to lose a foe these virtnes raise ;
Of those that sing of these poor eyes.

But candid, free, sincere, as you began,
Proceed--a minister, but still a man.
Be not (exalted to whate'er degree)
Asham'd of any friend, not ev'n of me:
The patriot's plain, but untrod, path pursue ;

If not, 'tis I must be asham'd of you.
ROBERT EARL OF OXFORD AND FARL

MORTIMER.
SENT TO THE EARL OF OXFORD WITH DR. PARNELL'S

OI'R AI'THOR,
SAID EARL'S IMPRISONMENT IN THE TOWER, AND

MR. JERVAS,
RETREAT INTO THE COUNTRY, IN THE YEAR 1721.

WITH MR. DRYDEN'S TRANSLATION OF FRESNOY'S ART Such were the notes thy once-lov'd poet sung,

OF PAINTING. Till Death untimely stopp'd his tuneful tongue.

This Epistle, and the two following, were written Oh just beheld, and lost ! admir'd, and mourn'd!

some years before the rest, and originally printed With softest manners, gentlest arts adorn'd!

in 1717. Blest in each science, blest in every strain ! Dear to the Muse! to Harley dear-in vain ! This verse be thine, my friend, nor thou refuse For him, thou oft hast bid the world attend, This, from no venal or ungrateful Muse. Fond to forget the statesman in the friend ; Whether thy band strike out some free design, For Swift and him, despis'd the farce of state, Where life awakes, and dawns at eyery line; The sober follies of the wise and great ;

Or blend in beauteous tints the colour'd mass, Dextrous, the craving, fawning crowd to quit, And from the canvass call the mimic face: And pleas'd to 'scape from Hattery to wit.

Read these instructive leaves, in which conspire Absent or dead, still let a friend be dear, Fresnoy's close art, and Dryden's native tire : (A sigh the absent claims, the dead a tear) And reading wish, like theirs, our fate and fame, Recall those nights that clos'd thy toilsome days, So mix'd our studies, and so join'd our name; Still hear thy Parnell in his living lays,

Like them to shine through long succeeding age, Who, careless now of interest, fame, or fate; So just thy skill, so regular my rage. Perhaps forgets that Oxford e'er was great ;

Smit with the love of sister-arts we caine, Or, deeming meanest what we greatest call, And met congenial, mingling Aame with fame; Beholds thee glorious only in thy fall.

Like friendly colours found them both unite, And sure, if anght below the seats divine And each from carh contract new strength and light, Can touch immortals, 'tis a soul like thine : How oft in pleasing tasks we wear the day, A soul supreme, in each hard instance try'd, While summer-suns roll unperceir'd away! Abore all pain, and passion, and all pride, How oft vor slowly growing works in part, The rage of power, the blast of public breath, While imayes reflect froin art to art! The lust of lucre, and the dread of Death.

How oft review ; each finding like a friend lo vain to deserts thy retreat is made;

Something to blame, and something to comiend! The Muse attends thee to thy silent shade:

What flattering scenes our wandering fancy 'Tis her's, the brave man s latest støps to trace,

wrought, Re-julge his acts, and dignify disgrace.

Rome's pumpous glories rising to our thought!

EPISTLE TO

POEMS PUBLISHED BY

AFTER THE

Together o'er the Alps methinks we fly,

His heart, his mistress and his friend did share ; Fir'd with jileas of fair Italy.

His time, the Muse, the witty and the fair.
With thce on Raphael's monument I mourn, Thus wisely careless, innocently gay,
Or wait inspiring dreams at Maro's urn:

Cheerful he play'd the trifle, life, away;
With thee repose, where Tully once was laid, Till Fate, scarce felt, his gentle breath supprest,
Or seek some ruin's formidable shade :

As siniling infants sport themselves to rest. While Fancy brings the ranish'd piles to view, Ev'n rival wits did Voiture's death deplore, And builds imaginary Rome anew.

And the gay mourn'd who never mourn'd before; Here thy well-studied marbles fix our eye ;

The truest hearts for Voiture heav'd with sighs, A fading fresco here demands a sigh :

Voiture was wept by all the brightest eyes : Each heavenly piece unwearied we compare,

The Siniles and Loves had died in Voiture's death, Match Raphael's grace with thy lord Guillo's air, But that for ever in his lines they breathe. Carracci's strength, Correggio's softer line,

Let the strict life of graver mortal be Paulo's free stroke, and Titian's warmth divine. A long, exact, and serious comedy ;

How finish'd with illustrious toil appears In every scene some moral let it teach, This small, well-polish'd gem, the work of years ! And, if it can, at once both please and preach. Yet still how faint by precept is express'd

Let mine, an innocent gay farce appear, The living image in the painter's breast !

And more diverting still than regular, Thence endless streams of fair ideas fiow,

Have humour, wit, a native ease and grace, Strike in the sketch, or in the picture glow; Though not too strictly bound to time and place : Thence Beauty, waking all her forms, supplies

Critics in wit, or life, are hard to please ; Au angel's sweetness, or Bridgewater's eyes. Few write to those, and none can live to these.

Muse! at that name thy sacred sorrows shed, Too inuch your sex arc by their forms confind, Those toars eternal that einbalm the dead;

Severe to all, but most to womankind; Call round her tomb each object of desire,

C'ustom, grown blind with age, must be your guide; Each purer fraine inform'd with purer tire :

Your pleasure is a vice, but not your pride ; Bid her be all that cheers or softens life,

By nature yielding, stubborn but for fame; The tender sister, daughter, friend, and wife : Made slaves by honour, and made fools by shame, Bid her be all that makes mankind adore;

Marriage may all those petty tyrants chase, Thin view this marble, and be vain co more! But sets np one, a greater, in their place. Yet still her charms in breathing paint engage ;

Well might you wish for change by those accurst, Her modest cheek shall warın a future age.

But the last tyrant ever proves the worst. Beauty, frail flower that every season fears,

Still in constraint your suffering sex remains, Blooms in thy colours for a thousand years.

Or bound in forihal, or in real chains :
Thus Churchill's race shall other hearts surprise, Whole years neglected, for some months ador'd,
And other beauties envy Worsley's (yes;

The fawning servant turns a baughty lord.
Each pleasing Blount shall endless smiles bestow, Ah, quit not the free innocence of life,
And soft Belinda's blush for ever glow.

For the dull glory of a virtuous wife;
Oh, lasting as those colours may they shine,

Nor let false shows, nor empty titles please : Free as thy stroke, yet faultless as thy line ; Aim not at joy, but rest content with ease. New graces yearly like thy works display,

The gols, to curse Pamela with her prayers, Soft without weakness, without glaring gay ;

Gave the gilt coach and dappled Flanders mares, Ied by soine rule, that guides, but not constrains ; The shining robes, rich jewels, beds of state, And finish'd more through bappiness than pains ! And, to complete her bliss, a fool for mate. The kincired arts shall in their praise conspire,

She glares in halls, front boxes, and the ring, One dip the pencil, and one string the lyre. A vain, unquiet, glittering, wretched thing! Yet should the Graces all thy figures place,

Pride, pomp, and state, but reach herontward part; And breathe an air divine on erery face;

She sighs, and is no dutchess at her heart. Yet should the Muses bid my numbers roll

But, madam, if the Fates withstand, and you Strong as their charms, and gentle as their soul; Are destin'd llymen's willing victim too; With Zeuxis' Helen thy Briilgewater vie,

Trust not too much your now resistless charms,
And these be sung till Granville's Myra die : Tbose, age or sickness, soon or late disarms:
Alas! how little from the grave we claim ! Good-hunour only teaches charms to last,
Thou but preserv'st a face, and I a name,

Still makes new conquests, and maintains the past;
Love, rais'd on beauty, will like that decay,
Our hearts may bear its slender chain a day;
As flowery bands in wantonness are worn,
A morning's pleasure, and at evening torn;

This binds in tjes more easy, yet more strong,
MISS BLOUNT.

The willing heart, and only holds it long.

Thus Voiture's' early care still shone the same, WITH THE WORKS OF VOITURE.

And Monthausier was only chang'd in name; In these gay thoughts the Loves anu Graces shinc, By this, ev'n now they live, ev'n now they charm, And all the writer lives in every line :

Their wit still sparkling, and their flames still warm. His easy art may happy nature seem,

Now crown'd with myrtle, on th' Elysian coast, Trifics themselves are elegant in him,

Amid those lovers, joys his gentle ghost : Sure to charm all was his peculiar fate,

Pleas'l, while with smiles his happy lines you view, Who without flattery pleas'd the fair and great ; And finds a fairer Rambouillet in you. Still with esteem no less convers'd than read; With wit well-natur'd, and with books well-bred :

! Mademoiselle Paulets

EPISTLE TO

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EPISTLE 'TO

SMILINDA.

SMILINDA.

CARDELIA.

SMILINDA.

The basset table spread, the tallier come ;
THE SAME

Why stays Snuilinda in the dressing-room?
ON HER LEAVING THE TOWN AFTER THE Coronation, Rise, pensivc nymph ; the tallier waits for you.

1715.
As soine fond virgin, wborn her mother's care Ah, madam, since my Sharper is untrue,
Drags from the town to wholesome country air, I joyless make my once ador'd alphiew.
Just when she learns to roll a melting eye,

I saw him stand behind Ombrelia's chair,
And hear a spark, yet think no danger nigh;

And whisper with that soft, deluding air, [fair. From the dear man unwilling she must sever,

And those feign'd sighs which cheat the listening Yet takes one kiss before she parts for ever :

CARDELIA. Thus from the world fair Zephalinda few, faw others happy, and with sighs withdrew;

Is this the cause of your romantic strains ? Not that their pleasures caus'd her discontent,

A mightier grief my heavy heart sustains.
She sigh’d, not that they stay'd, but that she One, one bad deal, three septlevas have lost.

As you by Love, so I by Fortune cross'd;
went,
She went to plain-work, and to purling brooks,
Old-fashion'd halls, dull aunts, and croaking

Is that the grief, which you compare with mine? rooks:

With ease, the smiles of Fortune I resign:
She went from opera, park, assembly, play,
To morning-walks, and prayers three hours a-day; Were lovely Sharper inine, and mine alonc..

Would all my gold in one bad deal were gone,
To part her time 'twixt reading and bohea,
To muse, and spill her solitary tea;
Or o'er cold coffee trifle with the spoon,

A lover lost, is but a common care ; Count the slow clock, and dine exact at noon;

And prudent nymphs against that change prepare: Divert her eyes with pictures in the fire,

The knave of clubs thrice lost : Oh! who could Hum half a tune, tell stories to the 'squire ;

guess l'p to her godly garret after seven,

This fatal stroke, this unforeseen distress?
There starve and pray, for that's the way to Heaven.
Some 'squire, perhaps, you take delight to
rack;

See Betty Lovet! very à propos,
Whose game is whist, whose treat a toast in sack :

She all the cares of love and play does know : Whovisits with a gun, presents you birds, (words!" Dear Betty shall th' important point decide ; Then gives a smacking buss, and cries, -"No Betty, who oft the pain of each has try'd : Or with his hounds comes hallooing from the Impartial, she shall say who suffers most, stable,

By cards, ill-usage, or by lovers lost.
Makes love with nods, and knees beneath a table;
Whose laughs are hearty, though his jests are
coarse,

Tell, tell your griefs; attentive will I stay, And loves you best of all things--but his horse.

Though time is precious, and I want soine tea. In some fair evening, on your elbow laid, You dreain of triumphs in the rural shade ; In pensive thought recall tbe fancy'd socne,

Behold this equipage, by Mathers wrought, See coronations rise on every green ;

With fifty guineas (a great pen’worth) bought. Before you pass th' imaginary sights

See, on the tooth-pick, Mars and Cupid strive; Of lords, and earls, and dukes, and garter'd knights, and both the struggling figures seem alive. While the spread fan o'ershades your closing eyes; Upon the bottom shines the queen's bright face: Then give one flirt, and all the vision flies.

A myrtle foilage round the thimble-case; Thus vanish sceptres, coronets, and balls, Jore, Jove himself does on the scissars shine ; And leave you in lone woods, or empty walls ! The metal, and the workmanship, divine ! So when your slave, at some dear idle time,

SMILINDA. Not plagu'd with head-achs, or the want of rhyme Stands in the streets, abstracted from the crew, This snuff-box, once the pledge of Sharper's And while he seems to study, thinks of you :

love, Just when his fancy points your sprightly eyes,

When rival beauties for the present strove ; Or sees the blush of soft Parthenia rise,

At Corticelli's he the raffle won; Gay pats my shoulder, and you vanish quite, Then first his passion was in public shown : Streets, chairs, and coxcombs, rush upon my Hazardia blush'd, and turn'd her head aside, sight;

A rival's envy (all in vain) to hide. Vex'd to be still in town, I knit my brow,

This snuff-box, on the hinge see brilliants shine! Look squr, and hum a tune, as you may now. This snuff-box will I stake; the prize is mine.

LOVET.

CARDELIA.

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