With eyes that pry not, tongue that ne'er repeats, Fond to spread friendships, but to cover heats; To help who want, to forward who excel; This, all who know me, know; who love me, tell; And who unknown defame me, let them be Scribblers or peers, alike are mob to me. This is my plea, on this I rest my cause-- What saith my counsel, learned in the laws? F. Your plea is good; but still I say, beware! Laws are explained by men--so have a care. It stands on record, that in Richard's times A man was hanged for very honest rhymes. Consult the Statute: quart. I think it is, Edwardi sext. or prim. et quint. Eliz. See libels, satires--here you have it--read. P. Libels and satires! lawless things indeed! But grave epistles, bringing vice to light, Such as a king might read, a bishop write; Such as Sir Robert would approve-- F. Indeed? The case is altered--you may then proceed; In such a cause the plaintiff would be hissed; My lords the judges laugh, and you're dismissed. THE SECOND SATIRE OF THE SECOND BOOK OF HORACE. SATIRE II. TO MR. BETHEL. What, and how great, the virtue and the art To live on little with a cheerful heart (A doctrine sage, but truly none of mine), Let's talk, my friends, but talk before we dine. Not when a gilt buffet's reflected pride Turns you from sound philosophy aside; Not when from plate to plate your eyeballs roll, And the brain dances to the mantling bowl. Hear Bethel's sermon, one not versed in schools, But strong in sense, and wise without the rules. Go work, hunt, exercise! (he thus began) Then scorn a homely dinner, if you can. Your wine locked up, your butler strolled abroad, Or fish denied (the river yet unthawed), If then plain bread and milk will do the feat, The pleasure lies in you, and not the meat. Preach as I please, I doubt our curious men Will choose a pheasant still before a hen; Yet hens of Guinea full as good I hold, Except you eat the feathers green and gold. Of carps and mullets why prefer the great (Though cut in pieces ere my lord can eat), Yet for small turbots such esteem profess? Because God made these large, the other less. Oldfield with more than harpy throat endued, Cries "Send me, gods! a whole hog barbecued! Oh, b---- it, south-winds! till a stench exhale Rank as the ripeness of a rabbit's tail. By what criterion do ye eat, d'ye think, If this is prized for sweetness, that for stink?" When the tired glutton labours through a treat, He finds no relish in the sweetest meat, He calls for something bitter, something sour, And the rich feast concludes extremely poor: Cheap eggs, and herbs, and olives still we see; Thus much is left of old simplicity! The robin-redbreast till of late had rest, And children sacred held a martin's nest, Till becca-ficos sold so devilish dear To one that was, or would have been a peer. Let me extol a cat, on oysters fed, I'll have a party at the Bedford-head; Or even to crack live crawfish recommend; I'd never doubt at Court to make a friend.