SECTION XV.
OF FOOLS WHO PRACTISE VILENESS OF
MANNERS AT TABLE.
O! 'wou'd that I, the lance could wield,
Of graceful, polish'd Chesterfield
!
My muse might then be able
To lash the filthy, slothful vice,
Of such as are not over nice,
When seated at the table.
From neighbour's glass, with reeking lip,
His draught of table beer to sip,
With teeth a huge bone gnawing;
With mouth by gravy quite defac'd,
With elbows on the table plac'd,
Or other's napkin pawing.
The plate with vary'd meats high pil'd,
The frill and neckcloth both defil'd,
While meat 'twixt teeth fast sticking,
Since you the cleanly quill disdain,
Forth from its bony prison's ta'en,
With fork your grinders picking.
Or when you eat, o'er plate to stoop,
And swallow spoon as well as soup,
Or if on table fish is;
Since you for others scorn to care,
Take all the shrimp sauce to your share,
And after lick the dishes.
If round the board fair dames you view,
On dish of fowls, if there are two,
Four wings 'mongst eight to deal out,
Seize on the finest for your own,
And ere you've one half pick'd the bone,
A second nimbly steal out.
If civil you wou'd hand a plate,
Your elbow thrust 'gainst neighbour's pate,
And then, to mend the matter;
When turning quick, O! dire mishap!
O'erset the wine glass; and in's lap,
The plate's contents bespatter.
L'ENVOY OF THE POET.
Shun ev'ry act which decency disdains,
For he whose object is a polish'd mind,
If heedless of this caution, ne'er attains,
The manners delicate, and soul refin'd.
THE POET'S CHORUS TO FOOLS.
Come, trim the boat, row on each Rara Avis,
Crowds flock to man my Stultifera Navis.