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.