However, where the flattery is gross, a falsehood clear and fulsome, Crush the venomous toad, and spare not for a jewel in its head. Tell the presumptuous in flattery, that or ever he bespatter thee with praise, It might be well to stop and ask how little it were worth: Thou hast not solicited his suffrage,--let him not force thee to refuse it; Look to it, man, thy fence is foiled,--and thus we spoil the plot. Self-knowledge goeth armed, girt with many weapons, But carrieth whips for flattery, to lash it like a slave: But the dunce in that great science goeth as a greedy tunny, To gorge both bait and hook, unheeding all but appetite: He smelleth praise and swalloweth,--yea, though it be palpable and plain, Say unto him, Folly, thou art Wisdom,--he will bless thee for thy lie. Flatterer, thou shalt rue thy trade, though it have many present gains; Those varnished wares may sell apace, yet shall they spoil thy credit. Thine is the intoxicating cup, which whoso drinketh it shall nauseate: Thine is trickery and cheating; but deception never pleased for long. And though while fresh thy fragrance seemed even as the dews of charity, Yet afterward it fouled thy censer, as with savour of stale smoke. For the great mind detected thee at once, answering thine emptiness with pity, He saw thy self-interested zeal, and was not cozened by vain-glory: And the little mind is bloated with the praise, scorning him who gave it, A fool shall turn to be thy tyrant, an thou hast dubbed him great: And the medium mind of common men, loving first thy music, After, when the harmonies are done, shall feel small comfort in their echoes; For either he shall know thee false, conscious of contrary deservings, And, hating thee for falsehood, soon will scorn himself for truth, Or, if in aught to toilsome merit honest praise be due, Though for a season, belike, his weakness hath been raptured at thy witching, Shall he not speedily perceive, to the vexing of his disappointed spirit, That thine exaggerated tongue hath robbed him of fair fame? Thou hast paid in forger's coins, and he had earned true money: For the substance of just praise, thou hast put him off with shadows of the sycophant: Thou art all things to all men, for ends false and selfish, Therefore shalt be nothing unto any one, when those thine ends are seen. Turn aside, young scholar, turn from the song of Flattery! She hath the Siren's musical voice, to ravish and betray. Her tongue droppeth honey, but it is the honey of Anticyra; Her face is a mask of fascination, but there hideth deformity behind; Her coming is the presence of a queen, heralded by courtesy and beauty, But, going away, her train is held by the hideous dwarf, Disgust.