[128] 'C----:' name not known. [129] 'Pratt:' Charles Pratt, Earl Camden, Chief-Justice of the Common Pleas, friendly to Wilkes. See Junius. [130] 'Sigismunda;' a detestable miscreation of Hogarth's pencil, admired by none but himself. [131] 'The Scottish sun:' The addresses to the King which followed the parliamentary approbation of the preliminary articles of peace in 1763, were obtained by means equally dishonourable and corrupt. THE DUELLIST.[132] In Three Books. BOOK I. The clock struck twelve; o'er half the globe Darkness had spread her pitchy robe: Morpheus, his feet with velvet shod, Treading as if in fear he trod, Gentle as dews at even-tide, Distill'd his poppies far and wide. Ambition, who, when waking, dreams Of mighty, but fantastic schemes, Who, when asleep, ne'er knows that rest With which the humbler soul is blest, 10 Was building castles in the air, Goodly to look upon, and fair, But on a bad foundation laid, Doom'd at return of morn to fade. Pale Study, by the taper's light, Wearing away the watch of night, Sat reading; but, with o'ercharged head, Remember'd nothing that he read. Starving 'midst plenty, with a face Which might the court of Famine grace, 20 Ragged, and filthy to behold, Gray Avarice nodded o'er his gold. Jealousy, his quick eye half-closed, With watchings worn, reluctant dozed; And, mean Distrust not quite forgot, Slumber'd as if he slumber'd not. Stretch'd at his length on the bare ground, His hardy offspring sleeping round, Snored restless Labour; by his side Lay Health, a coarse but comely bride. 30 Virtue, without the doctor's aid, In the soft arms of Sleep was laid; Whilst Vice, within the guilty breast, Could not be physic'd into rest. Thou bloody man! whose ruffian knife Is drawn against thy neighbour's life, And never scruples to descend Into the bosom of a friend; A firm, fast friend, by vice allied, And to thy secret service tied, 40 In whom ten murders breed no awe, If properly secured from law: Thou man of lust! whom passion fires To foulest deeds, whose hot desires O'er honest bars with ease make way, Whilst idiot beauty falls a prey, And to indulge thy brutal flame A Lucrece must be brought to shame; Who dost, a brave, bold sinner, bear Rank incest to the open air, 50 And rapes, full blown upon thy crown, Enough to weigh a nation down: Thou simular of lust! vain man, Whose restless thoughts still form the plan Of guilt, which, wither'd to the root, Thy lifeless nerves can't execute, Whilst in thy marrowless, dry bones Desire without enjoyment groans: Thou perjured wretch! whom falsehood clothes E'en like a garment; who with oaths 60 Dost trifle, as with brokers, meant To serve thy every vile intent, In the day's broad and searching eye