Thus others' talents having nicely shown, 80
He came by sure transition to his own:
Till I cried out, You prove yourself so able,
Pity you was not druggerman at Babel;
For had they found a linguist half so good,
I make no question but the tower had stood.
'Obliging sir! for courts you sure were made:
Why then for ever buried in the shade?
Spirits like you should see, and should be seen,
The king would smile on you--at least the queen.'
Ah, gentle sir! you courtiers so cajole us-- 90
But Tully has it, _Nunquam minus solus_:
And as for courts, forgive me, if I say
No lessons now are taught the Spartan way:
Though in his pictures lust be full display'd,
Few are the converts Aretine has made;
And though the court show vice exceeding clear,
None should, by my advice, learn virtue there.
At this, entranced, he lifts his hands and eyes,
Squeaks like a high-stretch'd lutestring, and replies:
'Oh, 'tis the sweetest of all earthly things 100
To gaze on princes, and to talk of kings!'
Then, happy man who shows the tombs! said I,
He dwells amidst the royal family;
He every day, from king to king can walk,
Of all our Harries, all our Edwards talk,
And get by speaking truth of monarchs dead,
What few can of the living-ease and bread.
'Lord, sir, a mere mechanic! strangely low,
And coarse of phrase,--your English all are so.
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