MAC FLECK NOE.

The severity of this fatire, and the excellence of its verfification, give it a distinguished rank in this fpecies of compofition. At prefent, an ordinary reader would scarce fuppofe that Shadwell, who is here meant by Mac Flecknoe, was worth being chaftifed, and that Dryden's defcending to fuch game was like an eagle's fooping to catch flies. The truth, however, is, Shadwell, at one time, held divided reputation with this great poet. Every age produces its fafhionable dunces, who, by following the tranfient topic, or humour, of the day, fupply talkative ignorance with materials for converfation.

A

LL human things are fubject to decay,

And, when Fate fummons, monarchs must obey. This Flecknoe found, who, like Auguftus, young Was call'd to empire, and had govern'd long; In profe and verfe was own'd, without difpute, Through all the realms of Nonfenfe, abfolute. This aged prince, now flourishing in peace, And blefs'd with issue of a large increase ; Worn out with business, did, at length debate To fettle the fucceffion of the ftate: And pond'ring which, of all his fons, was fit To reign, and wage immortal war with Wit,

Cry'd,

Cry'd, 'Tis refolv'd; for Nature pleads, that he
Should only rule, who most resembles me.
Sh, alone, my perfect image bears,
Mature in dulness from his tender years:
Sh, alone, of all my fons, was he,
Who ftands confirm'd in full stupidity.

The reft, to fome faint meaning make pretence;
But Sh- never deviates into sense.

Some beams of wit on other fouls may fall, Strike through, and make a lucid interval; But Sh's genuine night admits no ray; His rifing fogs prevail upon the day. Befides, his goodly fabric fills the eye, And feems defign'd for thoughtless majesty : Thoughtless as monarch oaks, that shade the plain, And, fpread in folemn ftate, fupinely reign. Heywood and Shirley were but types of thee, Thou laft great prophet of Tautology. Ev'n I, a dunce of more renown than they, Was fent before but to prepare thy way; And, coarfely clad in Norwich drugget, came To teach the nations in thy greater name. My warbling lute, the lute I whilom ftrung, When to king John of Portugal I fung, Was but the prelude to that glorious day, When thou on filver Thames didft cut thy way, With well-tim'd oars, before the royal barge, Swéll'd with the pride of thy celeftial charge; And, big with hymn, commander of an hoft, The like was ne'er in Epfom blankets toft.

Methinks

Methinks I fee the new Arion fail,

The lute still trembling underneath thy nail.
At thy well-sharpen'd thumb, from fhore to fhore
The trebles squeak for fear, the bafes roar:
Echoes from Piffing-Alley Sh-call,

And Sh

they refound from Afton-Hall.

About thy boat the little fifhes throng,
As at the morning toast that floats along.
Sometimes, as prince of thy harmonious band,
Thou wield'st thy papers in thy threshing hand.
St. Andre's feet ne'er kept more equal time,
Not ev❜n the feet of thy own Pfyche's rhime:
Though they in number as in fenfe excel;
So juft, fo like Tautology they fell,
That, pale with envy, Singleton forswore
The lute and fword, which he in triumph bore,
And vow'd he ne'er wou'd act Villerius more.

Here ftopt the good old fire, and wept for joy,
In filent raptures of the hopeful boy.
All arguments, but most his plays, perfuade,
That for anointed dulnefs he was made.
Close to the walls which fair Augufta bind,
(The fair Augufta, much to fears inclin'd)
An antient fabric, rais'd t' inform the fight,
There flood of yore, and Barbican it hight;
A watch-tow'r once; but now, fo fate ordains,
Of all the pile an empty name remains :
From its old ruins brothel-houses rife,
Scenes of lewd loves, and of polluted joys,

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VOL. I.

I

Where

Where their vast courts the mother-ftrumpets keep,
And, undisturb'd by watch, in filence fleep.
Near these a nursery erects its head,

Where queens are form'd, and future heroes bred;
Where unfledg'd actors learn to laugh and cry,
Where infant punks their tender voices try,
And little Maximins the Gods defy.

Great Fletcher never treads in buskins here,
Nor greater Johnfon dares in focks appear;
But gentle Simkin juft reception finds

Amidit this monument of vanifh'd minds:
Pure clinches the fuburbian mufe affords,
And Panton waging harmless war with words.
Here Flecknoe, as a place to fame well known,
Ambitiously defign'd his Sh's throne:
For ancient Decker prophefy'd, long fince,
That in this pile fhould reign a mighty prince,
Born for a fcourge of Wit, and flail of sense:
To whom true dulnefs fhould fome Pfyche's owe,
But worlds of Mifers from his pen fhould flow;
Humourists and Hypocrites it fhould produce,
Whole Raymond families, and tribes of Bruce.
Now emprefs Fame had publish'd the renown
Of Sh's coronation through the town.
Rouz'd by report of Fame, the nations meet,
From near Bun-hill, and diftant Watling-street.
No Perfian carpets fpread th' imperial way,
But fcatter'd limbs of mangled poets lay:
From duty fhops neglected authors come,
Martyrs of pies, and reliques of the bum.

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Much