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269
EPODE III.
To MÆCENAS.
In time to come, if such a crime should beAs Parricide, (foul villany!)
A Clove of Garlick would revenge that evil;
(Rare dish for Plough-men, or the Devil!)
Accursed root! how does it jounce and claw!
It works like Rats-bane in my maw.
What Witch contriv'd this strat'gem for my breath!
Poison'd at once, and stunk to death;
With this vile juice Medæa (sure) did noint
Jason (her Love) in every joint;
When untam'd Bulls in yokes he led along,
This made his manhood smell so strong:
This gave her Dragon venom to his sting,
And set the Hagg upon the wing.
I burn, I parch, as dry as dust I am,
Such drought on Puglia never came.
270
He oft was wet, but never dry.
Mecænas! do but taste of your own Treat,
And what you gave your Poet, eat;
Then go to Bed, and court your Mistris there,
She'l never kiss you I dare swear.
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