SOBER ADVICE FROM HORACE TO THE YOUNG GENTLEMEN ABOUT TOWN, AS DELIVERED IN HIS SECOND SERMON, IMITATED IN THE MANNER OF MR. POPE. Together with the Original Text, as restored by the REV. RICHARD BENTLEY, D.D. 37 TO ALEXANDER POPE, ESQ. SIR, I HAVE SO great a trust in your indulgence towards me, as to believe you cannot but patronize this Imitation, so much in your own manner, and whose birth I may truly say is owing to you. In that confidence I would not suppress the criticisms made upon it by the Reverend Doctor; the rather, since he has promised to mend the faults in the next edition, with the same goodness he has practised to Milton. I hope you will believe that while I express my regard for you, it is only out of modesty I conceal my name; since, though perhaps I may not profess myself your admirer so much as some others, I cannot but be, with as much inward respect, good-will, and zeal, as any man, Dear Sir, Your most affectionate, And faithful servant. * They are here omitted. 38 HORATII FLACCI, S. II. L. I. TEXTUM RECENSUIT V. R. RICARDUS BENTLEIUS, S. T. P. AMBUBAIARUM collegia, pharmacopolæ, Mendici, mimæ, balatrones; hoc genus omne Mostum ac sollicitum est cantoris morte Tigelli: Quippe benignus erat―― Contra hic, ne prodigus esse Dicatur, metuens, inopi dare nolit amico, Hunc si perconteris, avi cur atque parentis Præclaram ingrata stringat malus ingluvie rem, Omnia conductis coemens obsonia nummis : "Sordidus, atque animi quod parvi nolit haberi," Respondet. Laudatur ab his, culpatur ab illis. Fufidius vappæ famam timet ac nebulonis, 39 SOBER ADVICE FROM HORACE. THE tribe of Templars, Play'rs, Apothecaries, Pimps, Poets, Wits, Lord Fanny's, Lady Mary's, And all the court in tears, and half the town, Lament dear charming Oldfield, dead and gone! Engaging Oldfield! who, with grace and ease, Could join the arts, to ruin and to please. Not so, who of ten thousand gull'd her knight, Then ask'd ten thousand for a second night; The gallant too, to whom she paid it down, Liv'd to refuse that mistress half a crown. Con. Philips cries, "A sneaking dog I hate," That's all three lovers have for their estate! "Treat on, treat on," is her eternal note, And lands and tenements go down her throat. Some damn the jade, and some the cullies blame, But not Sir H-t, for he does the same. With all a woman's virtues but the рох, Fufidia thrives in money, land, and stocks: For int'rest, ten per cent. her constant rate is; Her body! hopeful heirs may have it gratis. |