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That have good places: therefore once again,
Pox on thee, Vulcan! thy Pandora's pox,
And all the evils that flew out of her box,
Light on thee! or, if those plagues will not do,
Thy wife's pox on thee, and B. B's too!

A SPEECH, ACCORDING TO HORACE.
Why yet, my noble hearts, they cannot say,
But we have powder still for the king's day,
And ordnance too; so much as from the Tower,
T' have waked, if sleeping, Spain's ambassador,
Old Æsop Gondomar: "1 the French can tell,
For they did see it the last tilting well,
That we have trumpets, armor, and great horse,
Lances and men, and some a breaking force.
They saw, too, store of feathers, and more may,
If they stay here but till St. George's day.
All ensigns of a war are not yet dead,

Nor marks of wealth so from our nation fled, But they may see gold chains and pearl worn

then,

Lent by the London dames to the Lord's men:
Withal, the dirty pains those citizens take,
To see the pride at court, their wives do make;

71 Gondomar was, perhaps, the most unpopular ambassador that ever visited England. He was frequently insulted in the streets by the populace, and on one occasion a person who had offended in this way was publicly whipped by the hangman, by the express orders of the king. At court, however, the ambassador acquired considerable influence by his skilful flattery and the brilliancy of his wit, - B.

And the return those thankful courtiers yield,
To have their husbands drawn forth to the field.
And coming home to tell what acts were done
Under the auspice of young Swinnerton.72
What a strong fort old Pimlico had been!
How it held out! how, last, 'twas taken in!
Well, I say, thrive, thrive, brave Artillery-yard,
Thou seed-plot of the war! thou hast not spared
Powder or paper to bring up the youth
Of London, in the military truth,
These ten years day; as all may swear that look
But on thy practice, and the posture-book.

He that but saw thy curious captain's drill,
Would think no more of Flushing or the Brill,
But give them over to the common ear,
For that unnecessary charge they were.
Well did thy crafty clerk and knight, Sir Hugh,
Supplant bold Panton, and brought there to view,
Translated Ælian's tactics to be read,

And the Greek discipline, with the modern, shed
So in that ground, as soon it grew to be
The city-question, whether Tilly or he
Were now the greater captain? for they saw
The Berghen siege, and taking in Bredau,
So acted to the life, as Maurice might,
And Spinola have blushed at the sight.
O happy art! and wise epitome

Of bearing arms! most civil soldiery!

72 Probably the son of Sir John Swinnerton, mayor of London in 1612. — G.

Thou canst draw forth thy forces, and fight dry The battles of thy aldermanity,

Without the hazard of a drop of blood,

More than the surfeits in thee that day stood.
Go on, increased in virtue and in fame,
And keep the glory of the English name
Up among nations. In the stead of bold
Beauchamps and Nevills, Cliffords, Audleys, old,
Insert thy Hodges, and those newer men,
As Stiles, Dike, Ditchfield, Millar, Crips, and
Fen:

That keep the war, though now 't be grown more tame,

Alive yet in the noise, and still the same;

And could, if our great men would let their sons
Come to their schools, show 'em the use of guns;
And there instruct the noble English heirs
In politic and militar affairs.

But he that should persuade to have this done
For education of our lordings, soon

Should he hear of billow, wind, and storm
From the tempestuous grandlings, who'll inform
Us, in our bearing, that are thus and thus,
Born, bred, allied. What's he dare tutor us?
Are we by bookworms to be awed? must we
Live by their scale, that dare do nothing free?
Why are we rich or great, except to show
All license in our lives? What need we know
More than to praise a dog, or horse? or speak
The hawking language? or our day to break

With citizens? let clowns and tradesmen breed
Their sons to study arts, the laws, the creed;
We will believe like men of our own rank,
In so much land a year, or such a bank,
That turns us so much moneys, at which rate
Our ancestors imposed on prince and state,
Let poor nobility be virtuous; we

Descended in a rope of titles be

From Guy, or Bevis, Arthur, or from whom
The herald will; our blood is now become
Past any need of virtue. Let them care,
That in the cradle of their gentry are,

To serve the state by counsels and by arms:
We neither love the troubles nor the harms.
What love you then? your whore: what study?

gait,

Carriage, and dressing. There is up of late
The Academy, where the gallants meet-
What! to make legs? yes, and to smell most

sweet:

All that they do at plays. O, but first here
They learn and study; and then practise there,
But why are all these irons i' the fire
Of several makings? helps, helps, t' attire
His lordship; that is for his band, his hair
This; and that box his beauty to repair;
This other for his eyebrows; hence, away!
I may no longer on these pictures stay,
These carcases of honor; tailors' blocks
Covered with tissue, whose prosperity mocks

The fate of things; whilst tattered virtue holds Her broken arms up to their empty moulds!

goes;

AN EPISTLE TO MASTER ARTHUR SQUIB. What I am not, and what I fain would be, Whilst I inform myself, I would teach thee, My gentle Arthur, that it might be said One lesson we have both learned, and well read. I neither am, nor art thou, one of those That hearkens to a jack's pulse, when it Nor ever trusted to that friendship yet, Was issue of the tavern or the spit; Much less a name would we bring up, or nurse. That could but claim a kindred from the purse. Those are poor ties depend on those false ends, 'Tis virtue alone, or nothing, that knits friends. And as within your office 78 you do take No piece of money, but you know, or make Inquiry of the worth: so must we do,

First weigh a friend, then touch, and try him

too:

For there are many slips and counterfeits;
Deceit is fruitful; men have masks and nets;
But these with wearing will themselves unfold;
They cannot last. No lie grew ever old.
Turn him, and see his threads: look if he be
Friend to himself that would be friend to thee:

78 It appears that this gentleman was one of the principal clerks in the Exchequer. I find several of his name, in succession, in the books of that office.-G.

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