Page:The Dunciad - Alexander Pope (1743).djvu/111

80 So like, that critics said, and courtiers swore, A Wit it was, and call'd the phantom More. All gaze with ardour: Some a poet's name, Others a sword-knot and lac'd suit inflame. But lofty Lintot in the circle rose: "This prize is mine; who tempt it are my foes;