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Opening again, he lays his claim
Her tallies useless lie, and idle,
If plac'd exactly in the middle :
But, forc'd from this unactive state
By virtue of some casual weight,
On either side you hear them clatter, “Some limbs again, in bulk or stature
And judge of right and left hand matter. Unlike, and not a-kin by nature,
“ Now, Richard, this coercive force, In concert act, like modern friends,
Without your choice, must take its course; Because one serves the other's ends.
Great kings to wars are pointed forth, The arm thus waits upon the heart,
Like loaded needles to the north. So quick to take the bully's part,
And thou and I, by power unseen, That one, though warm, decides more slow Are barely passive, and suck'd-in Than t'other executes the blow.
To Henauli's vaults, or Celia's chamber, A stander-by may chance to have it,
As straw and paper are by amber. Ere Hack himself perceives he gave it.
If we sit down to play or set, “ The amorous eyes thus always go
(Suppose at ombre or basset,) A-strolling for their friends below;
Let people call us cheats or fools, For, long before the squire and dame
Our cards and we are equal tools. Have tête-à-tête reliev'd their flame,
We sure in vain the cards condemn: Ere visits yet are brought about,
Ourselves both cut and shuffled them. The eye by sympathy looks out,
In vain on Fortune's aid rely : Knows Florimel, and longs to meet her,
She only is a stander-by. And, if he sees, is sure to greet her,
Poor men ! poor papers! we and they Though at sash-window, on the stairs,
Do some impulsive force obey : At court, nay (authors say) at prayers.
And are but play'd with — do not play. “ The funeral of some valiant knight
But space and matter we should blame; May give this thing its proper light.
They palm’d the trick that lost the game. View his two gauntlets; these declare
“ Thus, to save further contradiction That both his hands were us'd to war.
Against what you may think but fiction, And from his two gilt spurs 'tis learn’d
I for attraction, Dick, declare : His feet were equally concern'd.
Deny it those bold men that dare. But have you not, with thought, beheld
As well your motion, as your thought, The sword hang dangling o'er the shield ?
Is all by hidden impulse wrought : Which shows the breast, that plate was us'd to, Ev'n saying that you think or walk, Had an ally right arm to trust to :
How like a country squire you talk ! And, by the peep-holes in his crest,
“ Mark then ;- Where fancy, or desire, Is it not virtually confest,
Collects the beams of vital fire; That there his eyes took distant aim,
Into that liinb fair Alma slides, And glanc'd respect to that bright dame,
And there, pro tempore, resides. In whose delight his hope was center'd,
She dwells in Nicolini's tongue, And for whose glove his life he ventur'a ?
When Pyrrhus chants the heavenly song. “ Objections to my general system
When Pedro does the lute command, May rise, perhaps ; and I have mist them ;
She guides the cunning artist's hand. But I can call to my assistance
Through Macer's gullet she runs down, Proximity (mark that!) and distance;
When the vile glutton dines alone. Can prove, that all things, on occasion,
And, void of modesty and thought, Love union, and desire adhesion ;
She follows Bibo's endless draught. That Alma merely is a scale,
Through the soft sex again she ranges, And motives, like the weights, prevail.
As youth, caprice, or fashion, changes. If neither side turn down nor up,
Fair Alma, careless and serene, With loss or gain, with fear or hope,
In Fanny's sprightly eyes is seen ; The balance always would hang even,
While they diffuse their infant beams, Like Mah’met's tomb, 'twixt Earth and Heaven. Themselves not conscious of their flames. “ This, Richard, is a curious case :
Again fair Alma sits confest Suppose your eyes sent equal rays
On Florimel's experter breast ; Upon two distant pots of ale,
When she the rising sigh constrains, Not knowing which was mild or stale :
And, by concealing, speaks her pains. In this sad state your doubtful choice
In Cynthia's neck fair Alma glows, Would never have the casting voice;
When the vain thing her jewels shows : Which best or worst you could not think,
When Jenny's stays are newly lac'd, And die you must for want of drink;
Fair Alma plays about her waist; Unless some chance inclines your sight,
And when the swelling hoop sustains Setting one pot in fairer light;
The rich brocade, fair Alma deigns Then you prefer or A, or B,
Into that lower space to enter, As lines and angles best agree :
Of the large round herself the centre. Your sense resolv'd impels your will :
“ Again : that single limb or feature, She guides your hand so drink your fill. (Such is the cogent force of Nature,) “ Have you not seen a baker's maid
Which most did Alma's passion move Between two equal banniers sway'd ?
In the first object of her love,
For ever will be found confest,
For ever more all care is vain, And printed on the amorous breast.
That would bring Alma down again. “ Abelard ! ill-fated youth,
As, in habitual gout or stone, Thy tale will justify this truth :
The only thing that can be done, But well I weet, thy cruel wrong
Is to correct your drink and diet, Adorns a nobler poet's song.
And keep the inward foe in quiet; Dan Pope for thy misfortune griev'd,
So, if for any sins of ours, With kind concern and skill has weav'd
Or our forefathers' liglier powers, A silken web; and ne'er shall fade
Severe, though just, aftlict our life Its colours; gently has he laid
With that prime ill, a talking wife; The mantle o'er thy sad distress,
'Till Death shall bring the kind relief, And Venus shall the texture bless.
We must be patient, or be deaf. He o'er the weeping nun has drawn
“ You know a certain lady, Dick, Such artful folds of sacred lawn,
Who saw me when I last was sick : That Love, with equal grief and pride,
She kindly talk'd, at least three hours, Shall see the crime he strives to hide,
Of plastic forms, and mental powers; And, softly drawing back the veil,
Describ'd our pre-existing station The god shall to his votaries tell
Before this vile terrene creation ; Each conscious tear, each blushing grace,
And, lest I should be weary'd, madam, That deck'd dear Eloisa's face.
To cut things short, came down to Adam ; Happy the poet, blest the lays,
From whence, as fast as she was able, Which Buckingham has deign'd to praise ! She drowns the world, and builds up Babel.
“ Next, Dick, as youth and habit sways, Through Syria, Persia, Greece, she goes, A hundred gambols Alma plays.
And takes the Romans in the close. If, whilst a boy, Jack ran from school,
“ But we'll descant on general nature : Fond of his hunting-horn and pole ;
This is a system, not a satire. Though gout and age his speed detain,
“ Turn we this globe, and let us see Old John halloos his hounds again;
How different nations disagree By his fire-side he starts the hare,
In what we wear, or eat and drink; And turns her in his wicker-chair ;
Nay, Dick, perhaps in what we think. His feet, however lame, you find,
In water as you smell and taste Have got the better of his Mind.
The soils through which it rose and past, “ If, while the Mind was in her leg,
In Alma's manners you may read
The place where she was born and bred.
“ One people from their swaddling bands
Here Alma to these limbs was brought,
And Sparta's offspring kick'd and fought. All Christmas long away she trudges,
“ Another taught their babes to talk, Trips it with prentices and judges.
Ere they could yet in go-carts walk :
There Alma settled in the tongue,
And orators from Athens sprung.
“ Observe but in these neighbouring landa Which whilom did affect the tail,
The different use of mouths and hands;
As men repos'd their various hopes,
In battles these, and those in tropes.
“ In Britain's isles, as Heylin notes, Her scarf pale pink, her head-knot cherry ;
The ladies trip in petticoats;
Which, for the honour of their nation,
They quit but on some great occasion. « If Alma, whilst the man was young,
Men there in breeches clad you view: Slipp'd up too soon into his tongue,
They claim that garment as their due.
In Turkey the reverse appears ;
Long coats the haughty husband wears,
And greets his wife
with angry speeches, Depend upon it, he'll confute :
If she be seen without her breeches.
In our fantastic climes the fair
With cleanly powder dry their hair :
And round their lovely breast and head
Fresh flowers their mingled odours shed.
Your nicer Hottentots think meet
With guts and tripe to deck their feet:
With down-cast looks on Totta's legs To plead bad causes down to worse :
The ogling youth most humbly begs As dames, who native beauty want,
She would not from his hopes remove Still uglier look, the more they paint.
At once his breakfast and his love : “ Again : if in the female sex
And, if the skittish nymph should fly, Alma should on this member fix,
He in a double sense must die. (A cruel and a desperate case,
“ We simple toasters take delight Yrom which Heaven shield my lovely lass !) To see our women's teeth look white,
And every saucy ill-bred fellow
After her tea, she slips away, Sncers at a mouth profoundly yellow.
And what to do, one need not say. In China none hold women sweet,
Now see how great Pomonque's queen Except their snags are black as jet.
Behav'd herself amongst the men : King Chihu put ninc queens to death,
Pleas'd with her punch, the gallant soul Convict on statute, Ivory Teeth.
First drank, then water'd in the bowl; At Tonquin, if a prince should die,
And sprinkled in the captain's face (As Jesuits write, who never lie,)
The marks of her peculiar grace. The wife, and counsellor, and priest,
“ To close this point, we need not roam Who serv'd him most, and lov'd him best,
For instances so far from home. Prepare and light his funeral fire,
What parts gay France from sober Spain? And cheerful on the pile expire.
A little rising rocky chain. In Europe 'twould be hard to find
Of men born south or north o'th' hill, In each degree one half so kind.
Those seldom move, these ne'er stand still. “ Now turn we to the farthest east,
Dick, you love maps, and may perceive And there observe the gentry drest.
Rome not far distant from Geneve, Prince Giolo, and his royal sisters,
If the good pope remains at home, Scarr'd with ten thousand comely blisters; He's the first prince in Christendom. The marks remaining on the skin,
Choose then, good pope, at home to stay, To tell the quality within.
Nor westward curious take thy way: Distinguish'd slashes deck the great :
Thy way unhappy should'st thou take As each excels in birth or state,
From Tyber's bank to Leman lake, His oylet-holes are more and ampler :
Thou art an aged priest no more, The king's own body was a sampler.
But a young flaring painted whore : Happy the climate, where the beau
Thy sex is lost, thy town is gone; Wears the same suit for use and show :
No longer Rome, but Babylon. And at a small expense your wife,
That some few leagues should make this change, If once well pink'd, is cloth'd with life.
To men unlearn'd seems mighty strange. « Westward again, the Indian fair
“ But need we, friend, insist on this? Is nicely smear'd with fat of bear :
Since, in the very Canton Swiss, Before you see, you smell your toast;
All your philosophers agree, And sweetest she who stinks the most.
And prove it plain, that one may be The finest sparks and cleanest beaux
A heretic, or true believer, Drip from the shoulders to the toes :
On this, or t'other side a river." How sleek their skins! their joints how easy!
“ Here," with an artful smile, quoth Dick, There slovens only are not greasy!
“ Your proofs come mighty full and thick." “ I inention's different ways of breeding :
The bard, on this extensive chapter Begin we in our children's reading.
Wound up into poetic rapture, To master John the English maid
Continued : “ Richard, cast your eye, A horn-book gives of gingerbread ;
By night, upon a winter-sky: And, that the child may learn the better,
Cast it by day-light on the strand, As he can name, he eats the letter,
Which compasses fair Albion's land : Proceeding thus with vast delight,
If you can count the stars that glow He spells, and gnaws, from left to right.
Above, or sands that lie below, But, show a Hebrew's hopeful son
Into those common places look, Where we suppose the book begun,
Which from great authors I have took, The child would thank you for your kindness, And count the proofs I have collected, And read quite backward from our finis.
To have my writings well prot ed. Devour he learning ne'er so fast,
These I lay by for time of need, Great A would be reserv'd the last.
And thou may'st at thy leisure read. “ An equal instance of this matter
For, standing every critic's rage, Is in the manners of a daughter.
I safely will to future age In Europe, if a harmless maid,
My system, as a gift, bequeath,
Victorious over Spite and Death.'
RICHARD, who now was half asleep, And jolly long-boat rows to shore,
Rous'd, nor would longer silence keep ; Down come the nobles of the land :
And sense like this, in vocal breath, Each brings his daughter in his hand,
Broke from his two-fold hedge of teeth. Beseeching the imperious tar
Now, if this phrase too harsh be thought, To make her but one hour his care.
Pope, tell the world, 'tis not my fault. The tender mother stands affrighted,
Old Homer taught us thus to speak; Lest her dear daughter should be slighted : If 'tis not sense, at least 'tis Greek. And poor miss Yaya dreads the shame
“ As folks,” quoth Richard, “ prone to leasing, Of going back the maid she came.
Say things at first, because they're pleasing. « Observe how custom, Dick, compels
Then prove what they have once asserted, The lady that in Europe dwells ;
Nor care to have their lie deserted,
Till their own dreams at length deceive 'em,
“ Just so with you, my friend, it fares,
Quoth Matthew : “ Friend, as far as I
“ Your chiefs in sciences and arts Have great contempt of Alma's parts. They find she giddy is, or dull; She doubts if things are void, or full: And who should be presum'd to tell What she herself should see, or feel? She doubts if two and two make four, Though she has told them ten times o'er. It can't it may be --- and it must; To which of these must Alma trust? Nay further yet they make her go In doubting, if she doubts, or no. Can syllogism set things right? No: majors soon with minors fight; Or, both in friendly consort join'd, The consequence limps false behind. So to some cunning man she goes, And asks of him, how much she knows.
With patience grave he hears her speak,
“ From the account the loser brings, The conjuror knows who stole the things."
“ 'Squire,” interrupted Dick, “ since when Were you amongst these cunning men ?"
“Dear Dick," quoth Mat, “ let not thy force
“ Ideas, forms, and intellects,
“ Now, as, engag'd in arms or laws,
“ Poor Alma, like a lonely deer,
“ He then," quoth Dick, “ who by your role
“ Now, by your favour, master Mat,
Right, Richard,” Mat in triumph cry'd:
" So Dick Adept, tuck back thy hair,
« When Alma now, in different ages, Has finish'd her ascending stages,
. Some of the Tories, in the queen's reign, distinguished by that appellation.
Into the head at length she gets,
Effeminate he sat, and quiet : And there in public grandeur sits,
Strange product of a cheese-cake diet! To judge of things, and censure wits.
Now give my argument fair play, “ Here, Richard, how could I explain
And take the thing the other way : The various labyrinths of the brain !
The youngster, who at nine and three Surprise my readers, whilst I tell 'em
Drinks with his sisters milk and tea, Of cerebrum, and cerebellum !
From breakfast reads till twelve o'clock, How could I play the commentator
Burnet and Heylin, Hobbes, and Locke: On dura and on pia mater!
He pays due visits after noon Where hot and cold, and dry and wet,
To cousin Alice and uncle John. Strive each the other's place to get;
At ten from coffee-house or play And, with incessant toil and strife,
Returning, finishes the day. Would keep possession during life.
But, give him port and potent sack, I could demonstrate every pore,
From milksop he starts up Mohack; Where memory lays up all her store;
Holds that the happy know no hours ; And to an inch compute the station
So through the street at midnight scours, 'Twixt judgment and imagination.
Breaks watchmen's heads and chairmen's glasses, O friend! I could display much learning, And thence proceeds to nicking sashes ; At least to men of small discerning.
Till, by some tougher hand o'ercome, The brain contains ten thousand cells :
And first knock'd down, and then led home, In each some active fancy dwells;
He damns the footman, strikes the maid, Which always is at work, and framing
And decently reels up to bed. The several follies I was naming.
“ Observe the various operations As in a hive's vimineous dome
Of food and drink in several nations.' Ten thousand bees enjoy their bome,
Was ever Tartar fierce or cruel Each does her studious actions vary,
Upon the strength of water-gruel ? To go and come, to fetch and carry ;
But who shall stand his rage and force, Each still renews her little labour,
If first he rides, then eats his horse ? Nor justles her assiduous neighbour :
Salads, and eggs, and lighter fare, Each - whilst this thesis I maintain,
Tune the Italian spark's guitar. I fancy, Dick, I know thy brain.
And, if I take Dan Congreve right, 0, with the mighty theme affected,
Pudding and beef make Britons fight. Could I but see thy head dissected!”
Tokay and coffee cause this work My head !" quoth Dick, “ to serve your
Between the German and the Turk ; whim!
And both, as they provisions want, Spare that, and take some other limb.
Chicane avoid, retire and faint. Sir, in your nice affairs of system,
“ Hunger and thirst, or guns and swords, Wise men propose ; but fools assist 'em.”
Give the same death in different words. Says Matthew, “ Richard, keep thy head, To push this argument no further; And hold thy peace; and I'll proceed.”
To starve a man, in law is murther. “ Proceed !” quoth Dick : “ Sir, I aver,
“ As in a watch's fine machine, You have already gone too far.
Though many artful springs are seen ; When people once are in the wrong,
The added movements, which declare Each line they add is much too long.
How full the Moon, how old the year, Who fastest walks, but walks astray,
Derive their secondary power Is only farthest from his way.
From that which simply points the hour. Bless your conceits ! must I believe,
For, though those gim-cracks were away, Howe'er absurd, what you conceive ;
(Quare would not swear, but Quare would say) And, for your friendship, live and die
However more reduc'd and plain, A papist in philosophy?
The watch would still a watch remain : I say, whatever you maintain
But, if the horal-orbit ceases, Of Alma in the heart or brain,
The whole stands still, or breaks to pieces; The plainest man alive may tell ye,
Is now no longer what it was, Her seat of empire is the belly :
And you may e'en go sell the case. From hence she sends out those supplies,
So, if unprejudic'd you scan Which makes us either stout or wise ;
The goings of this clock-work man, The strength of every other member
You find a hundred movements made Is founded on your belly-timber ;
By fine devices in his head; The qualms or raptures of your blood
But 'tis the stomach's solid stroke Rise in proportion to your food ;
That tells his being what's o'clock. And, if you would im ove your thought,
If you take off this rhetoric trigger, You must be fed as well as taught.
He talks no more in mode and figure ; Your stomach makes your fabric roll,
Or, clog his mathematic-wheel, Just as the bias rules the bowl.
His buildings fall, his ship stands still; The great Achilles might employ
Or, lastly, break his politic-weight, The strength design'd to ruin Troy;
His voice no longer rules the state. He din’d on lion's marrow, spread
Yet, if these finer whims are gone, On toasts of ammunition bread :
Your clock, though plain, would still go on; But, by his mother sent away,
But spoil the engine of digestion, Amongst the Thracian girls to play,
And you entirely change the question.