The artifi too exprefs'd the folemn state
Of grave physicians at a confult met;
About each fymptom how they difagree,
But how unanimous in cafe of fee.
Whilft each affaffin his learn'd colleague tires
With learn'd impertinence, the fick expires.
Beneath this blazing orb bright Querpo fhone,
Himself an Atlas, and his fhield a moon.
A peftle for his truncheon led the van,
And his high helmet was a close-ftool pan.
His crest an Ibis, brandishing her beak,
And winding in loofe folds her fpiral neck.
This when the young Querpoïdes beheld,
His face in nurfe's breaft the boy conceal'd;
Then peept, and with th' effulgent helm would play,
And as the monfter gap'd, would shrink away.
Thus fometimes joy prevail'd, and fometimes fear;
And tears and fmiles alternate paffions were.
As Querpo towering stood in martial might,
Pacific Carus fparkled on the right.
An Oran Outang o'er his fhoulders hung,
His plume confefs'd the capon whence it sprung.
His motley mail fcarce could the hero bear,
Haranguing thus the tribunes of the war:
For prefent triumphs born, defign'd for more,
Your virtue I admire, your valour more.
If battle be refolv'd, you'll find this hand
Can deal out Destiny, and Fate command.
Our foes in throngs shall hide the crimson plain,
And their Apollo interpofe in vain.
Though Gods themselves engage, a Diomed
With eafe could fhow a deity can bleed.
But war's rough trade should be by fools profeft,
The trueft rubbish fills a trench the beft.
Let quinies throttle, and the quartan shake,
Or dropfies drown, and gout and colics rack;
Let fword and peftilence lay wafte, while we
Wage bloodlefs wars, and fight in theory.
Who wants not merit, needs not arm for fame;
The dead I raife, my chivalry proclaim;
Diseases baffled, and loft health reftor'd,
In Fame's bright lift my victories record.
More lives from me their prefervation own,
Than lovers lofe if fair Cornelia frown.
Your cures, fhrill Querpo cry'd, aloud you tell, 175 But wifely your mifcarriages conceal.
Zeno, a prieft, in Samothrace of old,
Thus reason'd with Philopidas the bold :
Immortal Gods you own, but think them blind
To what concerns the ftate of human kind.
Either they hear not, or regard not prayer;
That argues want of power, and this of care.
Allow that wisdom infinite must know;
Power infinite muft act. "I grant it fo."
Haste straight to Neptune's fane; furvey with zeal 185.
The walls. "What then?" reply'd the infidel.
Obferve those numerous throngs, in effigy,
The gods have fav'd from the devouring sea.
"Tis true, their pictures that elcap'd you keep,
"But where are theirs that perifh'd in the deep?" 199
Vaunt now no more the triumph of your skill,
But, though unfeed, exert your arm, and kill.
Our scouts have learn'd the posture of the foe;
In war, furprizes surest conduct show.
But Fame, that neither good nor bad conceals,
That Pembroke's worth, and Ormond's valour tells;
How truth in Burnet, how in Cavendish, reigns,
Varro's magnificence with Maro's strains;
But how at church and bar all gape and stretch
If Winnington but plead, or South or Only preach;
On nimble wings to Warwick-lane repairs,
And what the enemy intends, declares.
Confufion in each countenance appear'd,
A council's call'd, and
Stentor firft was heard;
His labouring lungs the throng'd prætorium rent, 205 Addreffing thus the paffive prefident:
+ Machaon, whose experience we adore, Great as your matchlefs merit, is your power.
At your approach, the baffled tyrant Death
Breaks his keen fhafts, and grinds his clashing teeth.
To you we leave the conduct of the day;
What you command, your vaffals must obey.
True to extremes, yet to dull forms a flave,
He's always dully gay, or vainly grave.
With indignation, and a daring air,
He paus'd awhile, and thus address'd the chair.
If this dread enterprize you would decline,
We'll fend to treat, and stifle the design.
But, if my arguments had force, we'd try
To humble our audacious foes, or die :
Our fpite, they'll find, to their advantage leans;
The end is good, no matter for the means.
So modern cafuifts their talents try,
Uprightly for the fake of truth to lye.
He had not finish'd, till th' out-guards defcry'd
Bright columns move in formidable pride;
The paffing pomp so dazzled from afar,
It feem'd a triumph, rather than a war.
Though wide the front, though grofs the phalanx grew, It look'd lefs dreadful, as it nearer grew.
The adverse hoft for action straight prepare ; All eager to unveil the face of war.
What Stentor offer'd was by moft approv❜a:
But feveral voices feveral methods mov'd.
At length th' adventurous heroes all agree
T'expect the foe, and act defenfively.
Into the fhop their bold battalions move,
And what their chief commands, the reft approve.
Down from the walls they tear the shelves in haffe,
Which on their flank for palifades are plac'd;
And then behind the compter rang'd they stand,
Their front fo well fecur'd, t' obey command.
And now the scouts the adverse host descry,
Blue aprons in the air for colours Alv:
With unrefifted force they urge their way,
And find the foe embattled in array.
Their chiefs lace on their helms, and take the field,
And to their trufty Squire refign the shield :
To paint each knight, their ardour and alarms,
Would ask the Muse that fung the frogs in arms.
And now the fignal fummons to the fray;
Mock falchions flash, and paltry ensigns play.
Their patron God his filver bow-strings twangs;
Tough harness ruftles, and bold armour clangs;
The piercing cauftics ply their fpiteful power;
Emetics ranch, and keen cathartics, scour;
The deadly drugs in double doses fly;
And peftles peal a martial fymphony.
Now from their level'd fyringes they pour
The liquid volley of a miffive fhower.
Not ftorms of fleet, which o'er the Baltic drive,
Push'd on by northern gufts, fuch horror give.
Like fpouts in fouthern feas the deluge broke,
And numbers funk beneath th' impetuous ftroke.
So when Leviathans difpute the reign
And uncontrol'd dominion of the main ;
From the rent rocks whole coral groves are torn,
And ifles of fea-weed on the waves are borne ;
Such watery ftores from their fpread noftrils fly,
'Tis doubtful which is fea, and which is sky.
And now the staggering braves, led by Despair,
Advance, and, to return the charge, prepare.
Each feizes for his fhield a spacious scale,
And the brafs weights fly thick as showers of hail.
Whole heaps of warriors welter on the ground,
With gally-pots and broken phials crown'd;
Whilft empty jars the dire defeat resound.
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