Classic Poem

  A. Didst ever see such a bundle of base weeds?
  B. Dost think there 's one of all this useless tribe
Is worth a real?
  A. Not one; and yet the varlets
Demand a lawyer's fee in brave pistoles,
Ere they will serve you. Look on him who bows!
Satin-faced villain!—for his help he asks
A double bribe, with twice as soft a tongue
As he who talks plain Spanish.
  B. Who is that?
  A. That frothy thing?—a blank, sir: but the next,—
Whose acid visage wrinkles into frowns,
Gains favour of the Duke (who dreads his jibes)
By slandering all who 're honest. He perhaps
May do us some sour service. Do not dream
He 's not a knave because he frowns on you;
For that 's his fashion. He will purse a bribe
As readily as he who 's bathed in smiles.
They 're villains both,—born, bred; even-paced rogues;
The difference lies in the manner; nothing more.