The Works of Peter Pindar [i.e. John Wolcot] :: :: University of Virginia Library

A mighty potentate, of some discerning,
Inquisitive indeed! and fond of learning,
From Windsor oft danc'd down to Eton College,
To make himself a pincushion of knowledge;
That is, by gleaning pretty little scraps
Of Cæsar, Alexander, and such chaps.

There would he oft harangue the master,
On Homer, Virgil, Pindar, my relation,
Fast as a jack-fly, very often faster—
Now jack-flies have a sweet acceleration.
Oft ask'd he questions about ancient kings—
Nat'ral! because so like himself—great things!
He ask'd if Cæsar ever did insist,
That if his minister would keep his place,
That minister should always have the grace
To mind deficiencies of civil list;

Whether great Cæsar ever sent his sons,
To study all the classics and great guns,
And bring of art and science home a store,
To Gottingen (his money wisely hoarding),
As Gottingen is vastly cheap for boarding
Young gentlemen whose parents are but poor—

He ask'd if Cæsar's soul was fond of knowing
What all the neighbourhood was daily doing;

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What went into the pot, or on the spit—
How much in house-keeping they yearly spent,
And if, like honest folks they paid their rent,
Or gave of victuals to the poor, a bit—

If Cæsar ever to a brewhouse went,
With lords and ladies of his court so grand,
And hours on hops and hoops and hogsheads spent,
So wise, with some great Whitbread of the land;
And tarried till he did the brewer tire,
And made the brewer's horse and dog admire;
And curious draymen into hogsheads creeping,
Sly rogues, and through the bung-holes peeping—

Whether great Cæsar was so sly an elf,
As from the very servants to inquire;
And know much better than the 'squire himself,
The business of each neighb'ring 'squire—

As why the coachman Jerry went away;
Which of the drivers Joan the cook defil'd;
Which of the footmen with Susanna lay,
And got the charming chamber-maid with child—

He ask'd if Cæsar's servants all
Were, cat-like, all good mousers, earn'd their wages;
Sought news from street and tavern, bulk and stall,
Like Nicolai, the prince of pages;
And whether Cæsar, with ferocious looks,
Found a poor trav'ling louse, and shav'd his cooks—

If Cæsar's minister gave half-a-crown,
To shoe-blacks, and the sweepers of the town,
To howl, and swear, and clap him at the play;
And when unto the senate-house he rode,
To spread their ell-wide lantern jaws abroad,
And roar most bull-like when he came away.

He ask'd if Julius Cæsar's wife
Had ever maids of honour in her life,
Like any modern œconomic queen;

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And if, of saving wisdom full,
The saving empress ever made a rule,
So keen, indeed so very keen:—

That all those honourable maids,
Who wish'd to sleep in comfortable beds,
Should purchase their own sheets and pillow-cases,
To treat their gentle backs, and blooming faces—

Whether great Cæsar lov'd humility,
That is in subjects only, viz. nobility;
And eke the commons, deem'd a vulgar mass,
Form'd by the wisdom of Almighty God,
To carry on their backs a heav'nly load,
Just like a camel, elephant, or ass—

If Cæsar cut up palaces for pens,
And unto butch'ring strongly did incline;
Sold geese and turkeys, ducks, and cocks and hens,
And fatten'd cows, and calves, and sheep, and swine;
In rams surpass'd him (of ram glory full),
Or ever beat him in a bull.

He ask'd if Cæsar did not find
Some cunning fellow for a hind,
Prepar'd with strange accounts to meet him,
And in his pigs and sheep and bullocks cheat him;
And whether Cæsar did not slily watch him—
And what were Cæsar's traps to catch him—

If, like Peg Nicholson, on mischief busy,
A mantua-maker drew a rusty knife,
To cleave the emperor in twain, the hussey,
Fright'ning the emperor out of his life—

He ask'd if Italy was half so blest
As England, in that prince of painters, West;
And if there ever liv'd in Rome's great town,
A man who stole, like Reynolds, a renown;
A man indeed, whose daubing brush
Puts Painting, the sweet damsel, to the blush—

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Then ask'd if Cæsar ever had the heart
To give a shilling to the glorious art.

He ask'd if Cæsar, 'midst his dread campaigns,
Felt bold, whene'er well dous'd by rushing rains;
Not caring ev'n a single fig,
Although they spoil'd a bran-new wig;
Joining the doughty regiments of death,
On some wild Wimbledon, or huge Blackheath.

He ask'd if Cæsar ever star'd abroad
(Instead of staring, as he ought, at home)
For architects with trash the land to load,
And raise of gaudy gingerbread a dome :
Such as is rais'd by that rare Swede Sir Will,
The grinning mouth of Ridicule to fill—

Whether the curious Cæsar sent to Greece,
For statues costing Heav'n knows what a-piece;
Then putting under ground a world's rare boast ,
To entertain a toad or ghost.

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Such were the questions, with a thousand more,
He ask'd, to swell of knowledges the store;
That fell like starlings on the ear, in flocks—
Sure keys for opening Mother Wisdom's locks:

Rare keys that ope the twilight vaults of time;
A thief who, with a sacrilegious pride,
Delighteth something ev'ry day to hide,
Sacks full of prose and sweetly-sounding rhime.

Such questions, with a manner quite unique,
The monkey boys to mimic soon began—
And lo, of mimicry the saucy trick,
Like wildfire through the college ran.
Lord! hinder them!—there could be no such thing—
Thus ev'ry little rascal was a king!

This, Fame, who seldom lessens sounds, did bear,
With all its horrors, to the royal ear—
The consequence, the school had cause to rue—
To schools the monarch bade a long adieu;
Of Eton journeys gave th' idea o'er,
And, angry, never mention'd Cæsar more!

The Royal Academy.

A cast, and the only one, of the famous Farnese Hercules, having been procured by a considerable expense, as well as trouble, for the benefit of the students of the Royal Academy, and the admiration of the world in general, is now thrust away into a dark hole; the building being rather calculated for the support of butterflies, than heavy antiques. The following short dialogue was written on the occasion:—

A Dialogue between two Statues, in an upper Room of the Royal Academy.

First Statue.

‘What keeps old Hercules below,
A fellow of such rare renown?

Second Statue.

‘Plague take thee! hold thy tongue—for know,
Should he come up, we all go down.’