Page:Satires, Epistles, Art of Poetry of Horace - Coningsby (1874).djvu/66

 It chanced he had a suit, and was bound fast Either to make appearance or be cast. "Step here a moment, if you love me." "Nay; I know no law: 'twould hurt my health to stay: And then, my call." "I'm doubting what to do, Whether to give my lawsuit up or you. "Me, pray!" "I will not." On he strides again: I follow, unresisting, in his train.
 * "How stand you with Mæcenas?" he began:

"He picks his friends with care; a shrewd wise man: In fact, I take it, one could hardly name A head so cool in life's exciting game. 'Twould be a good deed done, if you could throw Your servant in his way; I mean, you know, Just to play second: in a month, I'll swear, You'd make an end of every rival there." "O, you mistake: we don't live there in league: I know no house more sacred from intrigue: I'm never distanced in my friend's good grace By wealth or talent: each man finds his place." "A miracle! if 'twere not told by you, I scarce should credit it." "And yet 'tis true." "Ah, well, you double my desire to rise To special favour with a man so wise." "You've but to wish it: 'twill be your own fault, If, with your nerve, you win not by assault: He can be won: that puts him on his guard, And so the first approach is always hard." "No fear of me, sir: a judicious bribe