Chapter XXIX

Can any brook to see it, any tamely bear--
If any, gamester, epicure, a wanton, he--
Mamurra's own whatever all the curly Gauls
Did else inherit, or the lonely Briton isle?
Can you look on, look idly, filthy Romulus? 5

Shall he, in o'er-assumption, o'er-repletion he,
Sedately saunter every dainty couch along,
A bright Adonis, as the snowy dove serene?
Can you look on, look idly, filthy Romulus?
Look idly, gamester, epicure, a wanton, you. 10

Unique commander, and was only this the plea
Detain'd you in that islet angle of the west,
To gorge the shrunk seducer irreclaimable
With haply twice a million, add a million yet?
What else was e'er unhealthy prodigality? 15

The waste? to lust a little? on the belly less?
Begin; a glutted hoard paternal; ebb the first.
To this, the booty Pontic; add the spoil from out
Iberia, known to Tagus' amber ory stream.
Not only Gaul, nor only quail the Briton isles. 20

What help a rogue to fondle? is not all his act
To swallow monies, empty purses heap on heap?
But you--to please him only, shame to Rome, to me!
Could you the son, the father, idly ruin all?