Then, blessing all, 'Go, children of my care! To practice now from theory repair. 580 All my commands are easy, short, and full: My sons! be proud, be selfish, and be dull. Guard my prerogative, assert my throne: This nod confirms each privilege your own. The cap and switch be sacred to his grace; With staff and pumps the marquis lead the race; From stage to stage the licensed earl may run, Pair'd with his fellow-charioteer the sun; The learned baron butterflies design, Or draw to silk Arachne's subtile line;[446] 590 The judge to dance his brother sergeant call;[447] The senator at cricket urge the ball; The bishop stow (pontific luxury!) An hundred souls of turkeys in a pie; The sturdy squire to Gallic masters stoop, And drown his lands and manors in a soup. Others import yet nobler arts from France, Teach kings to fiddle, and make senates dance.[448] Perhaps more high some daring son may soar, Proud to my list to add one monarch more; 600 And nobly conscious, princes are but things Born for first ministers, as slaves for kings, Tyrant supreme! shall three estates command, And MAKE ONE MIGHTY DUNCIAD OF THE LAND!' More she had spoke, but yawn'd--All Nature nods: What mortal can resist the yawn of gods? Churches and chapels instantly it reach'd; (St James's first, for leaden Gilbert[449] preach'd;) Then catch'd the schools; the Hall scarce kept awake; The Convocation gaped, but could not speak; 610 Lost was the nation's sense, nor could be found, While the long solemn unison went round: Wide, and more wide, it spread o'er all the realm; Even Palinurus nodded at the helm: The vapour mild o'er each committee crept; Unfinish'd treaties in each office slept; And chiefless armies dozed out the campaign; And navies yawn'd for orders on the main.[450] O Muse! relate (for you can tell alone, Wits have short memories, and dunces none,) 620 Relate, who first, who last resign'd to rest; Whose heads she partly, whose completely bless'd; What charms could faction, what ambition, lull, The venal quiet, and entrance the dull; 'Till drown'd was sense, and shame, and right, and wrong-- O sing, and hush the nations with thy song!