Curio, of titles and of lineage proud,
Gapes for the vain applauses of the croud;
Like me were all my ancestors, he cries,
Such was my father's nose, my mother's eyes.
Inform us, gentle Curio, since we see
Their diff'ring features all intail'd on thee,
From whom, among this honourable race,
Dost thou derive thy matchless lack of grace.