The Fair Circassian, A Dramatic Performance Done from the Original By a Gentleman-Commoner of Oxford. The Second Edition Corrected. To which are added Several Occasional Poems. By the same Author [i.e. Samuel Croxall] |
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THE NAKED TRUTH.
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 | The Fair Circassian, A Dramatic Performance |  |
48
THE NAKED TRUTH.
From the second Book of Ovid's Fastorum.
Of the gay Silvan God that widely roves
O'er fair Arcadia's Plains, and shady Groves,
That haunts each gurgling Spring, and flow'ry Dale,
Where opening Tempè spreads it's happy Vale,
Where green Cyllenè rears her lofty Head
And streaming Ladon cuts the grassy Mead,
Of Faunus is my Song. Assist my Verse,
O woody Saint, while I thy Rites rehearse.
O'er fair Arcadia's Plains, and shady Groves,
That haunts each gurgling Spring, and flow'ry Dale,
Where opening Tempè spreads it's happy Vale,
Where green Cyllenè rears her lofty Head
And streaming Ladon cuts the grassy Mead,
Of Faunus is my Song. Assist my Verse,
O woody Saint, while I thy Rites rehearse.
Rome, for strict Piety of old renown'd,
With Flowrets sweet thy verdant Altars crown'd,
With Thee her wide Pantheon pleas'd to grace;
Tho' now inferiour Saintlings fill the Place.
At thine, the giddy People in a Crowd,
As now at their Processions, star'd and bow'd.
On Faunus' Feast they sanctified the Day
With Rubric, Temple, Carnival and Play.
But sure their Cult indecently they paid,
And Nature's Privacies too much display'd;
Uncloath'd thy Priests their mystic Measures trod,
And naked honour'd Thee their naked God.
Forgive the Muse, if ludicrously bold
The wanton Maid thy Secrets dares unfold;
If She, jocose, the fabled Cause relates,
To see his Clergy cloath'd why Faunus hates.
With Flowrets sweet thy verdant Altars crown'd,
With Thee her wide Pantheon pleas'd to grace;
Tho' now inferiour Saintlings fill the Place.
At thine, the giddy People in a Crowd,
As now at their Processions, star'd and bow'd.
On Faunus' Feast they sanctified the Day
With Rubric, Temple, Carnival and Play.
49
And Nature's Privacies too much display'd;
Uncloath'd thy Priests their mystic Measures trod,
And naked honour'd Thee their naked God.
Forgive the Muse, if ludicrously bold
The wanton Maid thy Secrets dares unfold;
If She, jocose, the fabled Cause relates,
To see his Clergy cloath'd why Faunus hates.
'Twas Summer; Phœbus, with declining Ray,
Began to slope the tedious sultry Day;
When Faunus, circled with his horned Throng,
On the soft Turf securely lay along.
Here from the Chace fatigued, and faint with Heat,
Under the Shade he sought a cool Retreat.
No sunny Beams here pierc'd the leafy Trees,
Which nor excluded quite the fanning Breeze;
The fanning Breeze among the Branches blew,
And open'd, to the North, a distant view.
From hence the goatish Deity descry'd
Alcides walking with his Lydian Bride,
When starting, with an amorous Look he gaz'd,
And while he lookt, her blooming Beauty prais'd.
O happy Hercules! he sighing said,
Who uncontroul'd enjoy so bright a Maid;
Stop, and with one dear Sight a Rival bless,
Let me admire the Nymph whom You possess:
And You, brown Mountain Goddesses, whose Charms
Fade in the Light which now my Bosom warms,
No more with ill-plac'd Love I'll kneel to You;
Adieu, brown Mountain Goddesses, adieu.
Began to slope the tedious sultry Day;
When Faunus, circled with his horned Throng,
On the soft Turf securely lay along.
Here from the Chace fatigued, and faint with Heat,
Under the Shade he sought a cool Retreat.
No sunny Beams here pierc'd the leafy Trees,
Which nor excluded quite the fanning Breeze;
The fanning Breeze among the Branches blew,
And open'd, to the North, a distant view.
From hence the goatish Deity descry'd
Alcides walking with his Lydian Bride,
When starting, with an amorous Look he gaz'd,
And while he lookt, her blooming Beauty prais'd.
O happy Hercules! he sighing said,
Who uncontroul'd enjoy so bright a Maid;
50
Let me admire the Nymph whom You possess:
And You, brown Mountain Goddesses, whose Charms
Fade in the Light which now my Bosom warms,
No more with ill-plac'd Love I'll kneel to You;
Adieu, brown Mountain Goddesses, adieu.
Thus, as she walkt, her Air and gay Attire
Fed the quick Flames of his prevailing Fire.
Her snowy Neck embrown'd with flowing Hair,
Like Light in Shades appear'd more brightly fair.
Embroider'd Gold her Purple Mantua grac'd,
A golden Girdle bound her slender Waste.
A gilt Umbrella Hercules upheld,
Which from the Fair the scorching Beams repell'd.
Now Time, insensibly beguil'd with Talk,
Brings Evening on, and finishes their Walk:
Hesper's bright Lamp flames in the ruddy West,
And shews the busy World 'tis Time to rest.
Down the descending Mount they take their Way,
And winding Vineyards o'er the Vale survey:
And now are at their cooly Grot arriv'd,
By Nature imitating Art contriv'd.
The Roof with unhewn Pumice vaulted hung,
Round the rough Entrance clasping Ivy clung.
Near which a purling Spring that down distill'd
A Cistern, hollow'd with it's dropping, fill'd.
Fed the quick Flames of his prevailing Fire.
Her snowy Neck embrown'd with flowing Hair,
Like Light in Shades appear'd more brightly fair.
Embroider'd Gold her Purple Mantua grac'd,
A golden Girdle bound her slender Waste.
A gilt Umbrella Hercules upheld,
Which from the Fair the scorching Beams repell'd.
Now Time, insensibly beguil'd with Talk,
Brings Evening on, and finishes their Walk:
Hesper's bright Lamp flames in the ruddy West,
And shews the busy World 'tis Time to rest.
Down the descending Mount they take their Way,
And winding Vineyards o'er the Vale survey:
And now are at their cooly Grot arriv'd,
By Nature imitating Art contriv'd.
The Roof with unhewn Pumice vaulted hung,
Round the rough Entrance clasping Ivy clung.
51
A Cistern, hollow'd with it's dropping, fill'd.
Here, while the Servants, with officious Haste,
Prepar'd for Supper, and the Side board plac'd,
The sprightly Nymph a frolic Fancy try'd,
And drest her rough Alcides like a Bride.
A Crimson Pall, varied with Purple Hue,
Of finest Silk she o'er his Shoulders threw;
Then with her scanty Girdle wou'd have brac'd
The ample Circuit of his brawny Waste;
And giggled much his Limbs so large to find,
As in her widen'd Plaits were scarce confin'd.
Her self put on the Lion's shaggy Hide,
The weighty Quiver rattled at her Side;
Then graspt the Club the mighty Hero bore,
Which never felt so soft a Touch before.
Thus, for a Whim preposterously clad,
They supt and went to Bed in Masquerade:
But lay that Night apart, that they might rise
Chastly to pay their Morning Sacrifice:
A Tribute due to Bacchus the Divine,
The Author of all Good, Love, Mirth, and Wine.
Prepar'd for Supper, and the Side board plac'd,
The sprightly Nymph a frolic Fancy try'd,
And drest her rough Alcides like a Bride.
A Crimson Pall, varied with Purple Hue,
Of finest Silk she o'er his Shoulders threw;
Then with her scanty Girdle wou'd have brac'd
The ample Circuit of his brawny Waste;
And giggled much his Limbs so large to find,
As in her widen'd Plaits were scarce confin'd.
Her self put on the Lion's shaggy Hide,
The weighty Quiver rattled at her Side;
Then graspt the Club the mighty Hero bore,
Which never felt so soft a Touch before.
Thus, for a Whim preposterously clad,
They supt and went to Bed in Masquerade:
But lay that Night apart, that they might rise
Chastly to pay their Morning Sacrifice:
A Tribute due to Bacchus the Divine,
The Author of all Good, Love, Mirth, and Wine.
Now all was husht, for now 'twas Midnight Hour,
When Faunus ventur'd to the rosy Bow'r.
Love, whose insinuating tickling Dart
To Action can excite ev'n Woman's Heart,
Drove the hot Lover from his shady Home
On dangerous Attempts abroad to roam,
Thro' all the gloomy Horrors of the Night,
Scorning unmanly Fear and pale Affright.
And now, the Entry to the Grotto found,
He spread his bawdy Hands, and gropt around.
Here first, embalm'd in Wine, the Servants lay,
Careless, and snor'd the live-long Night away.
The blundring God, his Hopes from hence advanc'd,
To find their quaffing Lord as deep entranc'd,
Arm'd with a greater Boldness ventur'd in,
And thought to act secure the luscious Sin.
First, by good Hap, the blissful Bed He found,
Which with Success his Wishes might have crown'd.
But when will sublunary Creatures dare
To trust their Wants with Providence's Care?
Each on his own Discretion still relies,
And most mistakes when most he thinks he's wise.
Thus far the God; who, had he not believ'd
His own Surmises, ne'er had been deceiv'd.
For when He touch'd the tawny Lion's Hair,
The rugged covering of the comely Fair,
Struck with a sudden Dread he started back,
As when the Shepherd in the thorny Brake
Treads unawares upon a sleeping Snake.
Then, creeping forward to th' adjoining Couch,
Whose Silk with Softness met his gentle Touch,
He mounted on the Side that next him lay,
His Spear advanc'd and ready for the Fray.
But lifting up the Clothes, and feeling there,
He found huge Legs all rough with thickset Hair.
Surpriz'd, and groping farther, still in vain,
His curious Search alarm'd the sturdy Swain,
Whose backstroke Fist recoiling at his Head
Tumbled the Silvan from the lofty Bed.
The Noise disturb'd the Nymph, who in a Fright
Call'd up the Slaves, and bid them bring a Light.
A Light was brought; which soon discover'd All;
Poor Faunus bruis'd and groaning with his Fall;
Who scarce could raise his batter'd Limbs from Ground:
A Ridicule to all the drunken Vassals round.
Loud laught the well-begotten Son of Jove,
The Lydian Damsel laught, to see her Love
With uncouth Pain distort his Satyr's Face,
Asham'd and limping from th' unlucky Place.
When Faunus ventur'd to the rosy Bow'r.
52
To Action can excite ev'n Woman's Heart,
Drove the hot Lover from his shady Home
On dangerous Attempts abroad to roam,
Thro' all the gloomy Horrors of the Night,
Scorning unmanly Fear and pale Affright.
And now, the Entry to the Grotto found,
He spread his bawdy Hands, and gropt around.
Here first, embalm'd in Wine, the Servants lay,
Careless, and snor'd the live-long Night away.
The blundring God, his Hopes from hence advanc'd,
To find their quaffing Lord as deep entranc'd,
Arm'd with a greater Boldness ventur'd in,
And thought to act secure the luscious Sin.
First, by good Hap, the blissful Bed He found,
Which with Success his Wishes might have crown'd.
But when will sublunary Creatures dare
To trust their Wants with Providence's Care?
Each on his own Discretion still relies,
And most mistakes when most he thinks he's wise.
Thus far the God; who, had he not believ'd
His own Surmises, ne'er had been deceiv'd.
For when He touch'd the tawny Lion's Hair,
The rugged covering of the comely Fair,
Struck with a sudden Dread he started back,
As when the Shepherd in the thorny Brake
Treads unawares upon a sleeping Snake.
53
Whose Silk with Softness met his gentle Touch,
He mounted on the Side that next him lay,
His Spear advanc'd and ready for the Fray.
But lifting up the Clothes, and feeling there,
He found huge Legs all rough with thickset Hair.
Surpriz'd, and groping farther, still in vain,
His curious Search alarm'd the sturdy Swain,
Whose backstroke Fist recoiling at his Head
Tumbled the Silvan from the lofty Bed.
The Noise disturb'd the Nymph, who in a Fright
Call'd up the Slaves, and bid them bring a Light.
A Light was brought; which soon discover'd All;
Poor Faunus bruis'd and groaning with his Fall;
Who scarce could raise his batter'd Limbs from Ground:
A Ridicule to all the drunken Vassals round.
Loud laught the well-begotten Son of Jove,
The Lydian Damsel laught, to see her Love
With uncouth Pain distort his Satyr's Face,
Asham'd and limping from th' unlucky Place.
The God, by Clothes thus fatally beguil'd,
His Hopes betray'd, his amorous Fancy foil'd,
Hates all Attire; and hence his wanton Priests
Admit the naked only to his Feasts.
His Hopes betray'd, his amorous Fancy foil'd,
Hates all Attire; and hence his wanton Priests
Admit the naked only to his Feasts.
54
Then, to refresh and purify the Heart,
Divines would only view each outward Part:
But modern Rome, to scour us all from Sin,
Appoints a prying Priest to peep within,
Both bent to know the Secrets of Mankind,
The Body Those perus'd, but These the Mind.
Divines would only view each outward Part:
But modern Rome, to scour us all from Sin,
Appoints a prying Priest to peep within,
Both bent to know the Secrets of Mankind,
The Body Those perus'd, but These the Mind.
| The Fair Circassian, A Dramatic Performance | |