Page:Satires, Epistles, Art of Poetry of Horace - Coningsby (1874).djvu/108

Fat Furius "spatter the bleak Alps with snow."
"What steady nerve!" some bystander will cry,
Nudging a friend; "what zeal! what energy!
What rare devotion!" ay, the game goes well;
In flow the tunnies, and your fish-ponds swell.
Another plan: suppose a man of wealth
Has but one son, and that in weakly health;
Creep round the father, lest the court you pay
To childless widowers your game betray,
That he may put you second, and, in case
The poor youth die, insert you in his place,
And so you get the whole: a throw like this,
Discreetly hazarded, will seldom miss.
If offered by your friend his will to read,
Decline it with a "Thank you! no, indeed!"
Yet steal a side-long glance as you decline
At the first parchment and the second line,
Just to discover if he leaves you heir
All by yourself, or others have a share.
A constable turned notary oft will cheat
Your raven of the cheese he thought to eat;
And sly Nasica will become, you'll see,
Coranus' joke, but not his legatee.
U. What? are you mad, or do you mean to balk
My thirst for knowledge by this riddling talk?
T. O Lærtiades! what I foreshow
To mortals, either will take place or no;
For 'tis the voice of Phœbus from his shrine
That speaks in me and makes my words divine.