And could th' impatience set to rest
Of the more eager, grumbling guest.
—Thus, with lively hope high-season'd,
Quæ Genus walk'd about and reason'd;
And, in his Pericranium fast,
This grave opinion fix'd at last:
If not in honour, yet in purse,
He might go further and fare worse,—
But if no other good were done,
There might be sure a world of fun.