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Pope, Alexander, 1688-1744

"A Select Collection of Old English Plays, Volume 2"


That neither profit regardeth nor honesty,
What marvel I then, if he pass so light on me?
But, Esau, now that ye have sold your birthright,
I commend me to you, and God give you good night.
And let a friend tell him his fau't at any time,
Ye shall hear him chafe beyond all reason or rhyme.
Except it were a friend or a very hell-hound,
Ye never saw the match of him in any ground.
When I shew him of good-will, what others do say,
He will fall out with me, and offer me a fray.
And what can there be a worser condition,
Than to do ill, and refuse admonition?
Can such a one prosper, or come to a good end?
Then I care not how many children God me send.
Once Esau shall not beguile me, I can tell:
Except he shall fortune to amend, or do well.
Therefore why do I about him waste thus much talk,
Whom no man can induce ordinately to walk?
But some man perchance doth not a little wonder,
How I, who but right now did roar out for hunger,
Have now so much vacant and void time of leisure,
To walk and to talk, and discourse all of pleasure.
I told you at the first, I would provide for one:
My mother taught me that lesson a good while agone.
When I came to Jacob, his friendship to require,
I drew near and near till I came to the fire:
There hard beside me stood the pottage-pot,
Even as God would have it, neither cold nor hot;
Good simple Jacob could not turn his back so thick,
But I at the ladle got a gulp or a lick;
So that, ere I went, I made a very good meal,
And din'd better cheap than Esau a good deal.


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