THE ftory of this fatire speaks itself. Umbritius, the fuppofed friend of Juvenal, and himself a poet, isleaving Rome, and retiring to Cumæ. Our author accompanies him out of town. Before they take leave of each other, Umbritius tells his friend: the reasons which oblige him to lead a private life, in an obfcure place. He complains that an Koneft man cannot get his bread at Rome: that none but Яatterers make their fortunes there: that Grecians and other foreigners raise them-felves by thofe fordid arts which he defcribes, and against which he bitterly inveighs. He reckons up the feveral inconveniencies which arife from a city-life; and the many. dangers which attend it.. Upbraids the noblemen with covetousness, for not rewarding good poets; and arraigns the government for starving them. The great art of this 04 fatire
Make lanes among the people where they go,
And, mounted high on downy chariots, throw
Difdainful glances on the crowd below?
Be filent, and beware, if fuch you fee;
'Tis defamation but to fay, That's he!
Against bold Turnus the great Trojan arm,
Amidft their ftrokes the poet gets no harm:
Achilles may in epic verse be slain,
And none of all his myrmidons complain :
Hylas may drop his pitcher, none will cry;
Not if he drown himself for company :
But when Lucilius brandishes his pen,
And flashes in the face of gurity men,
A cold fweat stands in drops on every part;
And rage fucceeds to tears, revenge to fmart:
Muse, be advis'd; 'tis past considering-time,
When enter'd once the dangerous lifts of rhime
Since none the living villains dare implead,
Arraign them in the perfons of the dead.
A R. G U ME N T.
THE ftory of this fatire speaks itfelf. Umbritius, the fuppofed friend of Juvenal, and himself
leaving Rome, and retiring to Cume. thor accompanies him out of town. Before they take leave of each other, Umbritius tells his friend: the reafons which oblige him to lead a private life, in an obfcure place. He complains that an Koneft man cannot get his bread at Rome: that none but Яatterers make their fortunes there that Grecians and other foreigners raise them-. felves by thofe fordid arts which he defcribes, and against which he bitterly inveighs. He reckons up the feveral inconveniencies which arife from a city-life; and the many dangers which attend it.. Upbraids the noblemen with covetousness, for not rewarding good poets; and arraigns the government for starving them. The great art of this fatire
fatire is particularly fhown, in common-places; and drawing in as many vices, as could naturally fall into the compass of it.
GRIEV'D though I am an ancient friend to lose,
I like the folitary feat he chose:
In quiet Cuma fixing his repose:
Where far from noisy Rome fecure he lives,
And one more citizen to Sibyl gives.
The road to Baja, and that soft recess
Which all the gods with all their bounty blefs.
Though I in Prochyta with greater ease
Could live, than in a ftreet of palaces:
What fcenes fo defert, or fo full of fright,
As towering houfes tumbling in the night,
And Rome on fire beheld by its own blazing light?
But worse than all the clattering tiles, and worie
Than thoufand padders, is the poet's curfe.
Rogues that in dog-days cannot rhime forbear:
But without mercy, read, and make you hear.
Now while my friend, just ready to depart,
Was packing all his goods in one poor cart;
He ftop'd a little at the Conduit-gate,
Where Numa model'd once the Roman-ftate,
In mighty councils with his nymph retir'd
Though now the facred fhades and founts are hir'd
By banish'd Jews, who their whole wealth can lay
In a finall basket, on a wifp of hay;
Yet fuch our avarice is, that every tree
Pays for his head; nor fleep itself is free ;
Nor place, nor perfons, now are facred held,
From their own grove the Mufes are expell'd.
Into this lonely vale our steps we bend,
I and my fullen difcontented friend:
The marble caves, and aquæducts, we view;
But how adulterate now, and different from the true!
How much more beauteous had the fountain been
Embellifh'd with her firft created green,
Where crystal streams through living turf had run,
Contented with an urn of native stone!
Then thus Umbritius (with an angry frown,
And looking back on this degenerate town,)
Since noble arts in Rome have no fupport,
And ragged virtue not a friend at court,
No profit rifes from th' ungrateful stage,
My poverty encreafing with my age,
'Tis time to give my juft difdain a vent,
And, curfing, leave fo base a government.
Where Dedalus his borrow'd wings laid by,
To that obfcure retreat I chufe to fly :
While yet few furrows on my face are feen,
While I walk upright, an old age is green,
And Lachefis has fomewhat left to spin.
Now, now, 'tis time to quit this curfed place,
And hide from villains my too honest face:
Here let Arturius live, and fuch as he
Such manners will with fuch a town agree.
Knaves, who in full affemblies have the knack.
Of turning truth to lies, and white to black;
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