In flow'd at once a gay embroider'd race, And tittering push'd the pedants off the place: Some would have spoken, but the voice was drown'd By the French horn, or by the opening hound. The first came forwards,[410] with an easy mien, As if he saw St James's[411] and the queen; 280 When thus the attendant orator begun: 'Receive, great empress! thy accomplish'd son: Thine from the birth, and sacred from the rod, A dauntless infant! never scared with God. The sire saw, one by one, his virtues wake: The mother begg'd the blessing of a rake. Thou gav'st that ripeness which so soon began, And ceased so soon--he ne'er was boy nor man; Through school and college, thy kind cloud o'ercast, Safe and unseen the young AEneas pass'd: 290 Thence bursting glorious, all at once let down, Stunn'd with his giddy 'larum half the town. Intrepid then, o'er seas and lands he flew: Europe he saw, and Europe saw him too. There all thy gifts and graces we display, Thou, only thou, directing all our way, To where the Seine, obsequious as she runs, Pours at great Bourbon's feet her silken sons; Or Tiber, now no longer Roman, rolls, Vain of Italian arts, Italian souls: 300 To happy convents, bosom'd deep in vines, Where slumber abbots, purple as their wines: To isles of fragrance, lily-silver'd vales,[412] Diffusing languor in the panting gales: To lands of singing or of dancing slaves, Love-whispering woods, and lute-resounding waves. But chief her shrine where naked Venus keeps, And Cupids ride the lion of the deeps;[413] Where, eased of fleets, the Adriatic main Wafts the smooth eunuch and enamour'd swain, 310 Led by my hand, he saunter'd Europe round, And gather'd every vice on Christian ground; Saw every court, heard every king declare His royal sense of operas or the fair; The stews and palace equally explored, Intrigued with glory, and with spirit whored; Tried all hors-d'oeuvres, all liqueurs defined, Judicious drank, and greatly-daring dined;[414] Dropp'd the dull lumber of the Latin store, Spoil'd his own language, and acquired no more; 320 All classic learning lost on classic ground; And last turned air, the echo of a sound! See now, half-cured, and perfectly well-bred, With nothing but a solo in his head; As much estate, and principle, and wit, As Jansen, Fleetwood, Cibber[415] shall think fit; Stolen from a duel, follow'd by a nun, And, if a borough choose him, not undone; See, to my country happy I restore This glorious youth, and add one Venus more. 330 Her too receive (for her my soul adores), So may the sons of sons of sons of whores Prop thine, O empress! like each neighbour throne, And make a long posterity thy own.' Pleased, she accepts the hero, and the dame Wraps in her veil, and frees from sense of shame.