Servum si potes, Ole, non habere, <br />Et regem potes, Ole, non habere. Mart. <br /> <br />('If thou from Fortune dost no servant crave, <br />Believe me thou no master need'st to have.') <br /> <br />I ask'd a friend, amidst the throng, <br />Whose coach it was that trail'd along? <br />'The gilded coach there - don't ye mind? <br />That with the footmen stuck behind.' <br />'O Sir!' says he, 'what! han't you seen it? <br />'Tis Damon's Coach, and Damon in it. <br />'Tis odd, methinks, you have forgot <br />Your friend, your neighbour, and - what not! <br />Your old acquaintance Damon!' - 'True; <br />But faith his Equipage is new.' <br />'Bless me,' said I, 'where can it end? <br />That madness has possess'd my friend? <br />Four powder'd slaves, and those the tallest, <br />Their stomachs, doubtless, not the smallest! <br />Can Damon's revenue maintain, <br />In lace and food, so large a train? <br />I know his land - each inch of ground - <br />'Tis not a mile to walk it round - <br />If Damon's whole estate can bear <br />To keep his lad and one-horse chair, <br />I own 'tis past my comprehension.' <br />'Yes, Sir; but Damon has a pension.' <br />Thus does a false ambition rule us, <br />Thus pomp delude, and folly fool us; <br />To keep a race of flickering knaves, <br />He grows himself the worst of slaves.<br /><br />William Shenstone<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/the-price-of-an-equipage/
