own pretence.
_10
I meddle with no state affairs,
But spare my jest to save my ears.
Our present schemes are too profound,
For Machiavel himself to sound:
To censure them I've no pretension;
I own they're past my comprehension.
You say your brother wants a place,
('Tis many a younger brother's case,)
And that he very soon intends
To ply the Court, and tease his friends.
_20
If there his merits chance to find
A patriot of an open mind,
Whose constant actions prove him just
To both a king's and people's trust;
May he with gratitude attend,
And owe his rise to such a friend.
You praise his parts, for business fit,
His learning, probity, and wit;
But those alone will never do,
Unless his patron have them too.
_30
I've heard of times (pray God defend us,
We're not so good but He can mend us)
When wicked ministers have trod
On kings and people, law and God;
With arrogance they girt the throne,
And knew no interest but their own.
Then virtue, from preferment barr'd,
Gets nothing but its own reward.
A gang of petty knaves attend 'em,
With proper parts to recommend 'em.
_40
Then if their patron burn with lust,
The first in favour's pimp the first.
His doors are never closed to spies,
Who cheer his heart with double lies;
They flatter him, his foes defame,
So lull the pangs of guilt and shame.
If schemes of lucre haunt his brain,
Projectors swell his greedy train;
Vile brokers ply his private ear
With jobs of plunder for the year;
_50
All consciences must bend and ply;
You must vote on, and not know why:
Through thick and thin you must go on;
One scruple, and your place is gone.
Since plagues like these have cursed a land,
And favourites cannot always stand;
Good courtiers should for change be ready,
And not have principles too steady:
For should a knave engross the power,
(God shield the realm, from that sad hour,)
_60
He must have rogues, or slavish fools:
For what's a knave without his tools?
Wherever those a people drain,
And strut with infamy and gain,
I envy not their guilt and state,
And scorn to share the public hate.
Let their own servile creatures rise
By screening fraud, and venting lies;
Give me, kind heaven, a private station,[7]
A mind serene for contemplation:
_70
Title and profit I resign;
The post of honour shall be mine.
My fable read, their meri