Asleep and naked as an Indian lay, An honest factor stole a gem away: He pledged it to the knight; the knight had wit, So kept the diamond, and the rogue was bit. Some scruple rose, but thus he eased his thought-- 'I'll now give sixpence where I gave a groat; Where once I went to church, I'll now go twice-- And am so clear, too, of all other vice.' The Tempter saw his time; the work he plied; Stocks and subscriptions pour on every side, 370 Till all the demon makes his full descent In one abundant shower of cent, per cent.; Sinks deep within him, and possesses whole, Then dubs director, and secures his soul. Behold Sir Balaam, now a man of spirit, Ascribes his gettings to his parts and merit; What late he call'd a blessing, now was wit, And God's good providence, a lucky hit. Things change their titles, as our manners turn: His counting-house employ'd the Sunday-morn; 380 Seldom at church ('twas such a busy life) But duly sent his family and wife. There (so the devil ordain'd) one Christmas-tide, My good old lady catch'd a cold, and died. A nymph of quality admires our knight; He marries, bows at court, and grows polite: Leaves the dull cits, and joins (to please the fair) The well-bred cuckolds in St James's air: First, for his son a gay commission buys, Who drinks, whores, fights, and in a duel dies: 390 His daughter flaunts a viscount's tawdry wife; She bears a coronet and pox for life. In Britain's senate he a seat obtains, And one more pensioner St Stephen gains. My lady falls to play; so bad her chance, He must repair it; takes a bribe from France; The House impeach him; Coningsby harangues; The court forsake him--and Sir Balaam hangs: Wife, son, and daughter, Satan! are thy own, His wealth, yet dearer, forfeit to the crown: 400 The devil and the king divide the prize, And sad Sir Balaam curses God, and dies. VARIATIONS. After VER. 50, in the MS.-- To break a trust were Peter bribed with wine, Peter! 'twould pose as wise a head as thine. VER. 77, in the former edition-- Well then, since with the world we stand or fall, Come, take it as we find it, gold and all. After VER. 218 in the MS.-- Where one lean herring furnish'd Cotta's board, And nettles grew, fit porridge for their lord; Where mad good-nature, bounty misapplied, In lavish Curio blazed awhile and died; There Providence once more shall shift the scene, And showing H----y, teach the golden mean. After VER. 226, in the MS.-- That secret rare with affluence hardly join'd, Which W----n lost, yet B----y ne'er could find; Still miss'd by vice, and scarce by virtue hit, By G----'s goodness, or by S----'s wit. After VER. 250 in the MS-- Trace humble worth beyond Sabrina's shore, Who sings not him, oh, may he sing no more! VER. 287, thus in the MS.-- The register enrolls him with his poor, Tells he was born and died, and tells no more. Just as he ought, he fill'd the space between; Then stole to rest, unheeded and unseen.