THE

British Muse.

PANDER.

'M kept for pleasure, though I never

taste it.

For 'tis the usher's office, still to cover
His lady's private meetings with her

lover.

Marston's Insatiate Countess.

1. At best 'tis but a goodly pandarifm.

2. Shrewd business.

Thou child in thrift, thou fool of honesty;
Is't a disparagement for a gentleman,
For friends of lower rank to do the offices
Of necessary kindness without fee
For one another; courtesies of course,
Mirths of society; when petty mushrooms,

Transplanted from their dunghills, spread on mountains,
And pass for cedars, by their servile flatteries
On great mens vices? - panderth'art deceiv'd,

The word includes preferment,

'tis a title

Of dignity, I could add somewhat more else.

Thy beauteous fifter like a precious tissue,

VOL. III.

Not shap'd into a garment fit for wearing,
Wants the adornments of the workman's cunning

'To set the richness of the price at view;

Though in her self all wonder.

John Ford's Fancy chaft and noble.

But you are

The squire of dames, devoted to the service
Of gamesome ladies; the hidden mystery
Discover'd, their close bawd: thy flavish breath
Fanning the fires of luft; the goe-between
This female, and that wanton fir: your art
Can blind a jealous husband, and disguis'd
Like a milliner, or shoemaker, convey
A letter in a pantoofle, or glove
Without fufpicion; nay, at his table,

In a case of pick-tooths: you instruct 'em how
To parley with their eyes, and make the temple
A mart of looseness. To discover all

-Thy subtile brokages, were to teach in publick
Those private practices, which are in justice
Severely to be punish'd.

Maffinger's Emperor of the East.

Pimps manage the great bus'ness o'th' nation,

That is the heav'nly work of propagation!

Crown's Sir Courtly Nice.

PARASITE.

Ah, when the means are gone, that buy this praise, The breath is gone whereof this praise is made! Feast-won, faft-loft: one cloud of winter-show'rs These flies are couch'd.

2. The swallow follows not

Summer more willingly, than we your lordship.
1. Nor more willingly leaves winter : such summer-
Birds are men.-

Shakespear's Timon.

May you a better feaft never behold,
You knot of mouth-friends: smoke, and luke-warm water

Is your perfection, This is Timon's laft;

Who

Who stuck and spangled you with flatteries,
Washes it off, and sprinkles in your faces
Your reeking villany. Live loath'd, and long;
Most smiling, smooth, detefted parafites;
Courteous destroyers, affable wolves, meek bears,
You fools of fortune, trencher-friends, time-flies,
Cap-and-knee slaves, vapors, and minute-jacks;
Of man and beaft the infinite malady

Cruft you quite o'er !

Shakespear's Timon.

O! your parafite

Is a most precious thing, drop'd from above; Not bred 'mongst clods and clod-polls here on earth. I muse, the mystery was not made a science, It is fo lib'rally profest! almost All the wife world is little else in nature, But parafites, or fub-parafites. And, yet, I mean not those that have your bare town-art, 'To know who's fit to feed them; have no house, No family, no care, and therefore mould Tales for mens ears, to bait that sense; or get Kitchen-invention, and some ftale receipts To please the belly, and the groin; nor those With their court dog-tricks, that can fawn and fleer, Make their revenue out of legs and faces; Eccho my lord, and lick away a moth : But your fine elegant rascal, that can rise, And ftoop, almost together; like an arrow Shoot through the air as nimbly as a star: Turn short, as doth a swallow; and be here, And there; and here, and yonder, all at once; Present to any humour, all occafion; And change a vizor, swifter than a thought! This is the creature had the art born with him; Toils not to learn it, but doth practice it Out of moft excellent nature: and fuch sparks

Are the true parafites, others but their zanies.

B2

Johnson's Volpone.

"Tis PAR

'Tis true, that sway'd by strong neceffity,
I am enforc'd to eat my careful bread,
With too much obsequy; 'tis true, befide,
That I am fain to spin myown poor raiment,
Out of my mere observance, b'ing not born
To a free fortune: but that I have done
Base offices, in rending friends asunder;
Dividing families; betraying councils;
Whisp'ring false lies, or mining men with praise;
Train'd their credulities with perjuries;
Corrupted chastity; or am in love
With mine own tender ease, but would not rather
Prove the most rugged and laborious course,
That might redeem my present estimation;
Let me here perish, in all hope of goodness.

Johnson's Volpone.

A taffell that hangs at my purse strings; he dogs
Me, and I give him scraps, and pay for his
Ordinary, feed him; he liquors himself
In the juice of my bounty; and when he
Hath fuck'd up strength of spirit, he squeaseth
It in my own face: when I have refin'd
And sharpned his wits with good food, he cuts
My fingers, and breaks jests upon me;

I bear them, and beat him.

Marston's What you will.

PARDON.

Twice saying pardon, doth not pardon twain;
But makes one pardon strong.

The word is short, but not so short as sweet;

No word like pardon, for kings mouths so meet.

Shakespear's K. Richard II.

The higher those great powers have rais'd you,

Press that which lies below, with gentler weight:

To pardon miseries is fortune's height.

Goffe's Couragious Turk.

When I call to mem'ry our long friendship,

Methinks it cannot be too great a wrong,

That