But 'tis not well to be reserved and close.
Act Davus in the drama: droop your head,
And use the gestures of a man in dread.
Be all attention: if the wind is brisk,
Say, "Wrap that precious head up! run no risk!"
Push shouldering through a crowd, the way to clear
Before him; when he maunders, prick your ear.
He craves for praise; administer the puff
Till, lifting up both hands, he cries "Enough."
But when, rewarded and released, at last
You gain the end of all your service past,
And, not in dreams but soberly awake,
Hear "One full quarter let Ulysses take,"
Say, once or twice, "And is good Dama dead?
Where shall I find his like for heart and head?"
If possible, shed tears: at least conceal
The tell-tale smiles that speak the joy you feel.
Then, for the funeral: with your hands untied,
Beware of erring upon meanness' side:
No; let your friend be handsomely interred,
And let the neighbourhood give you its good word.
Should one of your co-heirs be old, and vexed
With an inveterate cough, approach him next:
A house or lands he'd purchase that belong
To your estate: they're his for an old song.
But Proserpine commands me; I must fly;
Her will is law; I wish you health; good-bye.
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