ABSTRACT
The future of satire and the Fall of Empire are urgent matters which leave little time for the formalities of good breeding. In the Epilogue to the Satires politeness has worn very thin, but is still just adequate to hold in check the hostility generated between the speakers: To Cato, Virgil pay’d one honest line; O let my Country’s Friends illumin mine! — What are you thinking ? Fr. Faith, the thought’s no Sin, I think your Friends are out, and would be in. P. If merely to come in, Sir, they go out, The way they take is strangely round about. (Dialogue II 120-5)
