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His youthful vigour. Is it thus you school him ?
SOPHIST. And if I did, what harms him? Why complain you?
He does but follow what the wise prescribe,
The great voluptuous law of Epicurus,
Pleasure, the best of all good things on earth;

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And how but thus can pleasure be obtain'd?
FATHER. Virtue will give it him. SOPHist. And what but virtue
Is our philosophy? When have you met
One of our sect flush'd and disguis'd with wine?
Or one, but one of those you tax so roundly,

15 On whom to fix a fault? FATHER. Not one, but all, All, who march forth with supercilious brow High arch'd with pride, beating the city-rounds, Like constables in quest of rogues and out-laws, To find that prodigy in human nature,

20 A wise and perfect man! What is your science But kitchen-science? wisely to descant Upon the choice bits of a savoury carp, And prove by logic that his summum bonum Lies in his head; there you can lecture well,

25 And, whilst your grey-beards wag, the gaping guest Sits wondering with a foolish face of praise.

CUMBERLAND.

CRATES. (P. 14.)

These shrivell’d sinews, and this bending frame,
The workmanship of Time's strong hand proclaim ;
Skill'd to reverse whate'er the gods create,
And make that crooked, which they fashion straight.
Hard choice for man, to die or else to be

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That tottering, wretched, wrinkled thing you see:
Age then we all prefer; for age we pray,
And travel on to life's last ling’ring day ;
Then sinking slowly down from worse to worse,
Find heav'n's extorted boon our greatest curse.

10 CUMBERLAND.

PLATO—CRATES.

PHERECRATES.

I. (P. 15.)

Age is the heaviest burthen man can bear,
Compound of disappointment, pain, and care;
For when the mind's experience comes at length,
It comes to mourn the body's loss of strength:
Resign'd to ignorance all our better days,
Knowledge just ripens, when the man decays;
One ray of light the closing eye receives,
And wisdom only takes what folly leaves.

CUMBERLAND.

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II. (P. 17.)

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Remark, how wisely ancient art provides
The broad-brimm'd cup with flat expanded sides ;
A
cup

contriv'd for man's discreeter use,
And sober portions of the generous juice :
But woman's more ambitious thirsty soul
Soon long'd to revel in the plenteous bowl;
Deep and capacious as the swelling hold
Of some stout bark she shap'd the hollow mould,
Then turning out a vessel like a tun,
Simp’ring exclaim'd-Observe! I drink but one.

CUMBERLAND.

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III. IV. (Pp. 18. 25.)

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The days of Plutus were the days of gold;
The season of high feeding, and good cheer:
Rivers of goodly beef and brewis ran
Boiling and bubbling through the streaming streets,
With islands of fat dumplings, cut in sops
And slippery gobbets, moulded into mouthfuls,
That dead men might have swallow'd; floating tripes,
And fleets of sausages, in luscious morsels,
Stuck to the banks like oysters: Here and there,
For relishers, a salt-fish season'd high
Swam down the savoury tide: When soon behold!
PHERECRATES.]

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The portly gammon, sailing in full state
Upon his smoaking platter, heaves in sight,
Encompass’d with his bandoliers like guards,
And convoy'd by huge bowls of frumenty,
That with their generous odours scent the air.

-You stagger me to tell of these good days,
And yet to live with us on our hard fare,
When death's a deed as easy as to drink.

If your mouth waters now, what had it done,
Could you have seen our delicate fine thrushes
Hot from the spit, with myrtle-berries cramm'd,
And larded well with celandine and parsley,
Bob at your hungry lips, crying—Come eat me!
Nor was this all; for pendent over-head
The fairest choicest fruits in clusters hung;
Girls too, young girls just budding into bloom,
Clad in transparent vests, stood near at hand
To serve us with fresh roses, and full cups
Of rich and fragrant wine, of which one glass
No sooner was dispatch'd, than strait behold!
Two goblets, fresh and sparkling as the first,
Provok'd us to repeat the encreasing draught.
Away then with your ploughs, we need them not,
Your scythes, your sickles, and your pruning hooks!
Away with all your trumpery at once!
Seed-time and harvest-home and vintage wakes-
Your holidays are nothing worth to us.
Our rivers roll with luxury, our vats
O’erflow with nectar, which providing Jove
Showers down by cataracts; the very gutters
From our house-tops spout wine, vast forests wave,
Whose very leaves drop fatness, smoaking viands
Like mountains rise.--All nature's one great feast.

CUMBERLAND

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PHILONIDES. (P. 28.)

Because I hold the laws in due respect,
And fear to be unjust, am I a coward ?

(PHERECRATES-PHILONIDES.

Meek let me be to all the friends of truth,
And only terrible amongst its foes.

CUMBERLAND.

ALEXIS.

I. II. (Pp. 28. 29.)

I sigh’d for ease, and, weary of my lot,
Wish'd to exchange it: in this mood I strollid
Up to the citadel three several days;
And there I found a bevy of preceptors
For my new system, thirty in a group;
All with one voice prepar'd to tutor me-
Eat, drink, and revel in the joys of love!
For pleasure is the wise man's sovereign good.

CUMBERLAND.

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III. (P. 30.)

They fly at all, and, as their funds increase,
With fresh recruits they still augment their stock,

1 “Dans une galerie d'hétaires célebres, qui se trouve dans Athénée, on nous a conservé un fragment intéressant d’Alexis, auteur comique d' Athénes. Ce morceau nous donne le moyen de connoître les recherches que les courtisanes de son temps mettoient en usage, pour cacher quelque défaut, ou relever quelque charme. Il y est aussi question, en termes exprès, de ces hauts souliers de liége. Voici le passage entier :

S'enricher en dépouillant ceux qui les approchent, voilà leur soin principal. Le reste est pour elles peu de chose. Elles dressent des embûches a tous les hommes. La fortune leur a-t-elle souri ? Elles prennent chez elles de jeunes filles, novices, et connoissant à peine les élémens du metier. D'abord elles les metamorphosent ; et changent leurs moeurs et même leur figure, au point de les rendre presque méconnoissables. Une fille est-elle petite ? on hausse sa chaussure avec une semelle de liége. Est elle trop grande ? elle porte une sandale mince, et marche, la tête penchée sur une épaule. Cela diminue sa taille. A-t-elle trop peu de hanches ? elle en met de fausses ; et ceux qui la regardent, admirent la beauté de sa tournure. A-t-elle beaucoup de ventre ? elle ajoute au sein factice qu'elle emploie, commes les acteurs de comédie, des buscs qui resserrent le ventre, et le repoussent en arrière. A-t-elle des sourcils roux ? on les lui peint avec du noire de fumée. Est-elle trop brune ? on la blanchit avec de la céruse. A-t-elle PHILONIDES -ALEXIS. ]

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Moulding the young novitiate to her trade;
Form, features, manners, every thing so chang'd,
That not a trace of former self is left.
Is the wench short? a triple sole of cork
Exalts the pigmy to a proper size.
Is she too tall of stature? a low chair
Softens the fault, and a fine easy stoop
Lowers her to standard-pitch.-If narrow-hipt,
A handsome wadding readily supplies
What nature stints, and all beholders cry,
See what plump haunches!—Hath the nymph perchance
A high round paunch, stuft like our comic drolls,
And strutting out foreright? a good stout busk
Pushing athwart shall force the intruder back.
Hath she red brows? a little soot will cure 'em.
Is she too black? the ceruse makes her fair:
Too pale of hue? the opal comes in aid.
Hath she a beauty out of sight? disclose it!
Strip nature bare without a blush.—Fine teeth ?
Let her affect one everlasting grin,
Laugh without stint—but ah! if laugh she cannot,
And her lips won't obey, take a fine twig
Of myrtle, shape it like a butcher's skewer,
And prop them open, set her on the bitt
Day after day, when out of sight, till use
Grows second nature, and the pearly row,
Will she or will she not, perforce appears.

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CUMBERLAND.

IV. (P. 33.)

No animal in nature can compare
In impudence with woman; I myself
Am one, and from my own experience speak.

CUMBERLAND.

le teint trop blanc ? on la colore avec du pædérote. Mais son corps a-t-il quelque beauté particulière ? elle la découvre, pour la montrer et y fixer l'attention. A-t-elle un beau râtelier ? elle est obligée de rire, afin que tout le monde voie sa belle bouche ; et quand elle n'aime pas a rire, elle reste toute la journée

. chez elle, ayant entre ses lèvres un brin de myrte droit et mince, comme celui que les cuisiniers mettent aux têtes de chévres, lorsqils les vendent au marché, de sorte que, bon gré, mal gré, elle s' habitue, avec le temps

, a montrer ses belles, dents,BAST.

(ALEXIS:

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