Just then popped in a passing Beau, Half Pertness, half Pulvilio;-- One of those Mushroom Growths that spring From _Grand Tours_ and from Tailoring;-- And dealing much in terms of Art Picked up at Sale and auction Mart. Straight to the Masterpiece he ran With lifted Glass, and thus began, Mumbling as fast as he could speak:-- "Sublime!--prodigious!--truly Greek! That 'Air of Head' is just divine; That contour GUIDO, every line; That Forearm, too, has quite the _Gusto_ Of the third Manner of ROBUSTO...." Then, with a Simper and a Cough, He skipped a little farther off:-- "The middle Distance, too, is placed Quite in the best Italian Taste; And Nothing could be more effective Than the _Ordonnance_ and Perspective.... You've sold it?--No?--Then take my word, I shall speak of it to MY LORD. What!--I insist. Don't stir, I beg. Adieu!" With that he made a Leg, Offered on either Side his Box,-- So took his _Virtu_ off to COCK'S. The Critic, with a Shrug, once more Turned to the Canvas as before. "Nay,"--said the Painter--"I allow The Worst that you can tell me now. 'Tis plain my Art must go to School, To win such Praises--from a FOOL!" THE TWO PAINTERS. In Art some hold Themselves content If they but compass what they meant; Others prefer, their Purpose gained, Still to find Something unattained-- Something whereto they vaguely grope With no more Aid than that of Hope. Which are the Wiser? Who shall say! The prudent Follower of GAY Declines to speak for either View, But sets his Fable 'twixt the two.