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So, juftly ought to be again reftor'd :
Nay, if you credit fage Palphurius' word,
Or dare rely on Armillatus' * skill,
Whatever fifh the vulgar fry excel
Belong to Cæfar, wherefoe'er they swim,
By their own worth confifcated to him.
The boatman then fhall a wife prefent make,
And give the fifh before the feizers take.

Now fickly Autumn to dry frofts gave way,
Cold Winter rag'd, and fresh preferv'd the prey ;
Yet with fuch hafte the bufy fishes flew,

As if a hot fouth-wind corruption blew :

And now he reach'd the lake, where what remains
Of Alba ftill her ancient rites retains,

Still worships Vefta, though an humbler way,
Nor lets the hallow'd Trojan fire decay.

The wondering crowd, that to ftrange fights refort,
And choak'd a while his paffage to the court,
At length gives way; ope flies the palace-gate,
The turbot enters in, without the Fathers † wait
The boatman ftraight does to Atrides prefs,
And thus prefents his fifh, and his address:

Accept, dread Sir, this tribute from the main,
To great
for private kitchens to contain.
To your glad genius facrifice this day,
Let common meats refpectfully give way.

* Both of confular degree, yet fpies and informers. The Senate, or Patres Confcripti.

Hafte

Hafte to unload your stomachs, to receive
This turbot, that for you did only live.
So long preferv'd to be imperial food,
Glad of the net, and to be taken proud.

How fulfome this! how grofs! yet this takes well,
And the vain Prince with empty pride does fwell.
Nothing fo monftrous can be said or feign'd,
But with belief and joy is entertain’d,
When to his face the worthlefs wretch is prais'd,
Whom vile court-flattery to a god has rais’d.

But oh, hard fate! the palace stores no dish
Afford, capacious of the mighty fish.
To fage debate are fummon'd all the peers,
His trusty and much-hated counsellors,
In whofe pale looks that ghaftly terror fat,
That haunts the dangerous friendships of the great.
The loud Liburnian *, that the fenate call'd,
"Run, run; he's fet, he's fet!" no fooner bawl'd,
But, with his robe snatcht up in haste, does come
Pegafust, bailiff of affrighted Rome.

What more were præfects then? The best he was,
And faithfulleft expounder of the laws.

Yet in ill times thought all things manag'd beft,
When Juftice exercis'd her fword the leaft..
Old Crifpus next, pleasant though old, appears,
His wit nor humour yielding to his years.

* The Roman criers were ufually of this country.
A learned lawyer, and præfect of Rome.
Who made the jeft on Domitian's killing flies.

His

His temper mild, good-nature join'd with sense,
And manners charming as his eloquence.
Who fitter for a ufeful friend than he,

To the great Ruler of the earth and fea,

If, as his thoughts were juft, his tongue were free?
If it were safe to vent his generous mind
To Rome's dire plague, and terror of mankind;
If cruel Power could foftening counsel bear.
But what's fo tender as a tyrant's ear;

With whom whoever, though a favourite, fpake,
At every sentence fet his life at stake,

Though the discourse were of no weightier things,
Than fultry fummers, or unhealthful springs ?
This well he knew, and therefore never try'd,
With his weak arms to ftem the stronger tide.
Nor did all Rome, grown fpiritlefs, fupply
A man that for bold truth durft bravely die.
So, fafe by wife complying filence, he
Ev'n in that court did fourfcore fummers fee.

Next him Acilius, though his age the fame,
With eager hafte to the grand council came :
With him a youth, unworthy of the fate
That did too near his growing virtues wait,
Urg'd by the tyrant's envy, fear, or hate.
(But 'tis long fince old age began to be
In noble blood no less than prodigy,
Whence 'tis I'd rather be of giants' birth*,
A pigmy brother to those fons of earth.)

* of an obfcure and unknown family.

I

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Unhappy

Unhappy youth! whom from his deftin'd end,
No well-diffembled madness could defend;
When naked in the Alban theatre,

In Libyan bears he fixt his hunting spear.

Who fees not now through the Lord's thin disguise,
That long feem'd fool, to prove at last more wife?
That ftale court trick is now too open laid :
Who now admires the part old Brutus play'd* ?
Those honest times might fwallow this pretence,
When the King's beard was deeper than his sense.
Next Rubrius came, though not of noble race,
With equal marks of terror in his face.

Pale with the gnawing guilt and inward shame
Of an old crime that is not fit to name.
Worfe, yet in fcandal taking more delight,
Than the vile Pathick + that durft fatire write.
Montanus' belly next, advancing flow
Before the sweating fenator, did go.

Crifpinus after, but much fweeter comes,
Scented with coftly oils and Eastern gums,

More than would ferve two funerals for perfumes.

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Then Pompey, none more skill'd in the court-game Of cutting throats with a foft whisper, came. Next Fufcus, he who many a peaceful day For Dacian vulturs was referv'd a prey,

* In counterfeiting madness.

+ Nero, who charged his own crimes on Quintianus, Cornelius Fufcus, who was flain in Dacia.

Till

Till, having ftudy'd war enough at home,
He led abroad th' unhappy arms of Rome.
Cunning Vejento next, and by his fide
Bloody Catullus leaning on his guide,
Decrepit, yet a furious lover he,

And deeply fmit with charms he could not fee.
A monster, that ev'n this worst age out-vies,
Confpicuous, and above the common fize.

A blind bafe flatterer, from fome bridge or gate *,.
Rais'd to a murdering minister of state.
Deferving ftill to beg upon the road,

And blefs each paffing waggon and its load.
None more admir'd the fish; he in its praise
With zeal his voice, with zeal his hands did raife;
But to the left all his fine things did fay,

Whilft on his right the unseen turbot lay.
So he the famid Cilician Fencer prais'd,
And at each hit with wonder feem'd amaz'd:
So did the fcenes and stage machines admire,
And boys that flew through canvas clouds in wire.
Nor came Vejento fhort; but, as infpir'd
By thee, Bellona, by thy fury fir'd,
Turns prophet. See the mighty omen, fee,
He cries, of fome illuftrious victory!

Some captive king thee his new lord fhall own;
Or from his Britith chariot headlong thrown
The proud Arviragus come tumbling down!

*The common ftands for beggars..

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The

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