Transcript of Bettesworth's Exultation
Well, now, since a heat of my passions abated, that the Dean hath lampooned me, my mind is elated. Lampooned did I call it. No. What was it then? What was it? T 'was fame to be lashed by his pen. For had he not pointed me out, I had slept till Ean Doomsday, a poor, insignificant reptile, half lawyer, half actor, pert, dull and inglorious, obscure and unheard of. But now I'm notorious. Fame has but two gates, a white and a black one. The worst they can say is I got in at the back one. If the end be obtained, tis equal what portal I enter, since I'm to be rendered immortal. So, clisters apply to the anus, tis said, by skillful physicians, give ease to the head. Though my title be spurious, why should I be dastard? A man is a man, though he should be a bastard. Why, sure to some comfort that heroes should slay us. If I fall, I would fall by the hand of Phineas. And who by the drapier would not rather damned be than demigodized by Madrigal Namby. A man is no more who has once lost his breath. But poets convince us there's life after death. They call from their graves the king or the peasant, react our old deeds and make what's past, present, and when they would study to set forth alike so the lines be well drawn and the colors but strike, whatever the subject be, coward or hero, a tyrant or patriot, a Titus or Nero, to a judge tis all one which he fixes his eye on and a well painted monkeys as good as a lion. End of poem. This recording is in the public domain. Bedisworth's Exultation by Jonathan Swift, wrote for LibriVox .org by Caitlin Buckley. Upon hearing that his name would be transmitted to posterity in Dr. Swift's works by William Duncan. Well, now since the heat of my passions abated that the Dean hath lampooned me, my mind is elated. Lampooned did I call it. No. What was it then? What was it? T 'was fame to be lashed by his pen. For had he not pointed me out, I had slept till in doomsday a poor and significant reptile, half lawyer, half actor, pert, dull and inglorious, obscure and unheard of. But now I'm notorious. Fame has but two gates, a white and a black one. The worst they can say is I got in at the back one. If the end be obtained, tis equal what portal I enter since I am to be rendered immortal. So Kleister's applied to the anus, tis said, by skillful physicians give ease to the head. Though my title be spurious, why should I be dastard? A man is a man, though he should be a bastard. Why sure tis some comfort that heroes should slay us. If I fall, I would fall by the hand of Phineas. And who by