ce;
but what can be urged in their defence, who, not having the vocation
of poverty to scribble, out of mere wantonness take pains to make
themselves ridiculous? Horace was certainly in the right, where he
said, "That no man is satisfied with his own condition." A poet is
not pleased, because he is not rich; and the rich are discontented,
because the poets will not admit them of their number. Thus the case
is hard with writers: If they succeed not, they must starve; and if
they do, some malicious satire is prepared to level them, for daring
to please without their leave. But while they are so eager to
destroy the fame of others, their ambition is manifest in their
concernment; some poem of their own is to be produced, and the slaves
are to be laid flat with their faces on the ground, that the monarch
may appear in the greater majesty.

Dionysius and Nero had the same longings, but with all their power
they could never bring their business well about. 'Tis true, they
proclaimed themselves poets by sound of trumpet; and poets they were,
upon pain of death to any man who durst call them otherwise. The
audience had a fine time on't, you may imagine; they sat in a bodily
fear, and looked as demurely as they could: for it was a hanging
matter to laugh unseasonably; and the tyrants were suspicious, as
they had reason, that their subjects had them in the wind; so, every
man, in his own defence, set as good a face upon the business as he
could. It was known beforehand that the monarchs were to be crowned
laureates; but when the show was over, and an honest man was suffered
to depart quietly, he took out his laughter which he had stifled,
with a firm resolution never more to see an emperor's play, though he
had been ten years a-making it. In the meantime the true poets were
they who made the best markets: for they had wit enough to yield the
prize with a good grace, and not contend with him who had thirty
legions. They were sure to be rewarded, if they confessed themselves
bad writers, and that was somewhat better than to be martyrs for
their reputation. Lucan's example was enough to teach them manners;
and after he was put to death, for overcoming Nero, the emperor
carried it without dispute for the best poet in his dominions.
No man was ambitious of that grinning honour; for if he heard the
malicious trumpeter proclaiming his name before his betters, he knew
there was but one way with him. Maecenas took another co