[[6]]
Chant.
The Theatines' commandments ten
Have less to do with saints than men.
Chorus.—Tra lara, tra lara.
1—Of money make sure. Tra lara, &c.
2—Entrap rich and poor.
3—Always get a good dinner.
4—In all bargains be winner.
5—Cool your red wine with white.
6—Turn day into night.
7—Give the bailiff the slip.
8—Make the world fill your scrip.
9—Make your convert a slave.
10—To your king play the knave.
Chorus.—Those ten commandments make but two—
All things for me, and none for you.
Tra lara, tra lara.
[[7]]
Breeders of all foreign wars,
Breeders of all household jars,
Snugly 'scaping all the scars.
Worshipp'd, like the saints they make;
Tyrants, forcing fools to quake;
Grasping all we brew or bake.
All our souls and bodies ruling,
All our passions hotly schooling,
All our wit and wisdom fooling.
Lords of all our goods and chattels,
Firebrands of our bigot battles.
When you see them, spring your rattles.
Shun them, as you'd shun the Pest;
Shun them, teacher, friend, and guest;
Shun them, north, south, east, and west.
France, her true disease has hit;
France has made the vagrants flit;
France has swamp'd the Jesuit.
[[8]] The Discovery of the Science of Languages. By Morgan Kavanagh. London: Longman, Brown, Green, and Longmans. 1844.
[[9]] The poets are a little at variance, and do not all celebrate the same wine—(as some of us like Port, and some Madeira)—some, doubtless, dealt with better wine-merchants than others. Poets have the privilege of celebrating plain women, and wine that nobody else can drink. Redi talks of Monte Fiascone and Monte Pulciano—both raisin wines to English or French stomachs. Florence had no fame in those days, and now makes by far the best wine in Italy—give us good Chianti, and none of your Aleatico or Vino Santo. At Rome, there is not a flask of any thing fit to drink; and we recollect when bad Spanish wine was brought up the Tiber to meet the deficiency. Orvieto is far from wholesome; yet, in Juvenal's time, Albano furnished a wine of superlative quality.
"Albani veteris pretiosa senectus;"
the same passage denouncing Falernian by the epithet of acris—a wine, he says, to make faces at. Again, Cuma and Gaurus—the privilege of drinking those wines was for the rich only—are now the common drink of the peasants who cultivate them.
"Te Trifolinus ager fecundis vitibus implet,
Suspectumque jugum Cumis, et Gaurus inanis."