To err is human, to forgive, divine. 525 But if in noble minds some dregs remain Not yet purged off, of spleen and sour disdain; Discharge that rage on more provoking crimes, Nor fear a dearth in these flagitious times. No pardon vile obscenity should find,[225] 530 Though wit and art conspire to move your mind;[226] But dulness with obscenity must prove As shameful sure as impotence in love. In the fat age of pleasure, wealth, and ease, Sprung the rank weed,[227] and thrived with large increase: 535 When love was all an easy monarch's care; Seldom at council, never in a war: Jilts ruled the state, and statesmen farces writ: Nay, wits had pensions,[228] and young lords had wit;[229] The fair sat panting at a courtier's play, 540 And not a mask[230] went unimproved away: The modest fan was lifted up no more,[231] And virgins smiled at what they blushed before. The following licence of a foreign reign Did all the dregs of bold Socinus drain;[232] 545 Then unbelieving priests reformed the nation,[233] And taught more pleasant methods of salvation;[234] Where heaven's free subjects might their rights dispute, Lest God himself should seem too absolute: Pulpits their sacred satire learned to spare, 550 And vice admired to find a flatt'rer there![235] Encouraged thus, wit's Titans braved the skies, And the press groaned with licensed blasphemies. These monsters, critics! with your darts engage, Here point your thunder, and exhaust your rage! 555 Yet shun their fault, who, scandalously nice, Will needs mistake an author into vice; All seems infected that th' infected spy, As all looks yellow to the jaundiced eye.[236] III.