State Tracts Containing Many Necessary Observations and Reflections on the State of our Affairs at Home and Abroad; With some Secret Memoirs. By the Author of the Examiner [i.e. William Oldisworth] |
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THE CIRCUS: OR, British Olympicks. |
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THE CIRCUS: OR, British Olympicks.
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From vulgar Eyes, on Plains exalted high,
Where Noble Dust does in Confusion fly,
Thither the Wealthy and the Great repair,
To draw Contagion from polluted Air.
In gilded Chariots some delight to ride,
And with their Folly gratifie their Pride,
While the vile Ends they court from this Address
Gives them false Notions of true Happiness.
The empty Fame these Gallants have in view,
And with such hasty Violence pursue,
Alas! will wither e're the Glory's got,
Tho' destin'd theirs by Fortune's bounteous Lot;
And tho' no Laurel-Palms adorn their Brows,
Immortal Wreaths are giv'n by gentle Spouse
T'exalt their Honour, and adorn their House.
These are the Glories, this the hunted Prize,
The boasted Fame of Circle-Victories.
Where Noble Dust does in Confusion fly,
Thither the Wealthy and the Great repair,
To draw Contagion from polluted Air.
In gilded Chariots some delight to ride,
And with their Folly gratifie their Pride,
While the vile Ends they court from this Address
Gives them false Notions of true Happiness.
The empty Fame these Gallants have in view,
And with such hasty Violence pursue,
Alas! will wither e're the Glory's got,
Tho' destin'd theirs by Fortune's bounteous Lot;
And tho' no Laurel-Palms adorn their Brows,
Immortal Wreaths are giv'n by gentle Spouse
T'exalt their Honour, and adorn their House.
These are the Glories, this the hunted Prize,
The boasted Fame of Circle-Victories.
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Blush, Britons, then, that here you tamely yield
The Trophies won in Cressy's dustier Field;
Where your brave Ancestors rejoic'd to see
Honour retriev'd by British Gallantry.
But see how soon the blooming Flower is gone,
With'ring beneath the Coldness of the Moon!
Heavy and dull, like that moist Planet, now
The sprightly Wits and active Heroes grow;
The wat'ry Phlegm lies floating in the Brain,
And makes them, like the Women, proud and vain,
A thousand diff'rent Whims possess the Mind,
To day they love, to morrow are inclin'd
Fantastically to vary like the Wind.
Flora her self, tho' much more nice and gay,
Changes her Liv'ry not so oft as they.
The fickle Fop, insatiate in his Lust,
Has not for ought but Equipage a Gust;
The tinsel Harness glitters in his Eyes,
And makes him fancy, as he's fine, he's wise:
While the bold Coursers, bound with full career,
Lash'd briskly by the brawny Charioteer;
The sated Epicure lolls at his Ease,
'Till Vanity becomes ev'n a Disease;
The Head turns giddy, as the Wheels run round,
And this wise Man at last a Fool is found;
A meer Mock-man, or if there's ought that's less,
A Blockhead made on purpose for a Dress.
But Heavens; is't possible for to believe
Mankind should study Mankind to deceive,
To see such glorious Shows of Outside shine,
And find no kind of Furniture within,
Ensigns of Grandeur painted at the Door,
But all within diminutively poor?
The gaudy Slaves may show their Master's vain,
And cheat th'Unwary with a num'rous Train;
But 'spight of all the tawdry Coat and Lace,
Th'unthinking Thing will peep thorow the Glass
And shew the Multitude his Monkey-Face.
The Trophies won in Cressy's dustier Field;
Where your brave Ancestors rejoic'd to see
Honour retriev'd by British Gallantry.
But see how soon the blooming Flower is gone,
With'ring beneath the Coldness of the Moon!
Heavy and dull, like that moist Planet, now
The sprightly Wits and active Heroes grow;
The wat'ry Phlegm lies floating in the Brain,
And makes them, like the Women, proud and vain,
A thousand diff'rent Whims possess the Mind,
To day they love, to morrow are inclin'd
Fantastically to vary like the Wind.
Flora her self, tho' much more nice and gay,
Changes her Liv'ry not so oft as they.
The fickle Fop, insatiate in his Lust,
Has not for ought but Equipage a Gust;
The tinsel Harness glitters in his Eyes,
And makes him fancy, as he's fine, he's wise:
While the bold Coursers, bound with full career,
Lash'd briskly by the brawny Charioteer;
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'Till Vanity becomes ev'n a Disease;
The Head turns giddy, as the Wheels run round,
And this wise Man at last a Fool is found;
A meer Mock-man, or if there's ought that's less,
A Blockhead made on purpose for a Dress.
But Heavens; is't possible for to believe
Mankind should study Mankind to deceive,
To see such glorious Shows of Outside shine,
And find no kind of Furniture within,
Ensigns of Grandeur painted at the Door,
But all within diminutively poor?
The gaudy Slaves may show their Master's vain,
And cheat th'Unwary with a num'rous Train;
But 'spight of all the tawdry Coat and Lace,
Th'unthinking Thing will peep thorow the Glass
And shew the Multitude his Monkey-Face.
Sometimes alone th'insipid Ideot rouls,
The Admiration of fond gazing Fools,
Whose slender Opticks can no farther go
Than to the Splendor of the gilded Show.
Sometimes, to prove his Conversation bright,
He brings with him a Gamester, Rake, or Wit;
Then decently derides the beauteous Ring,
And bawdy Jests around the Circle fling.
With bouncing Bell a lushious Chat he holds,
Squabbles with Moll, or Orange Betty scolds,
Then laughs immoderately, vain, and loud,
To raise the Wonder of th'attentive Crowd:
At last, to finish here the Puppy's Show,
The Bawd's dispatch'd to serve a Billet-deux.
The Admiration of fond gazing Fools,
Whose slender Opticks can no farther go
Than to the Splendor of the gilded Show.
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He brings with him a Gamester, Rake, or Wit;
Then decently derides the beauteous Ring,
And bawdy Jests around the Circle fling.
With bouncing Bell a lushious Chat he holds,
Squabbles with Moll, or Orange Betty scolds,
Then laughs immoderately, vain, and loud,
To raise the Wonder of th'attentive Crowd:
At last, to finish here the Puppy's Show,
The Bawd's dispatch'd to serve a Billet-deux.
Others come here to please their Appetites
In nicer Pleasures, and in soft Delights,
Sylvanus languishes the Night away,
And wishes that the Light would longer stay:
If he but sees the fair Aurelia's Shade,
The pliant Youth bows down his suppliant Head
Just like a Bulrush, or the slender Reed:
But if her Garment touch his am'rous Eye,
His Sighs encrease, as if the Swain would die:
No sooner does he view the charming Face,
But instantly he quits th'enchanted Place;
No longer able to sustain the Fire
That draws him thither with such warm Desire.
Pity Sylvanus, and his wretched Doom,
Who is in Love, but knows not well with whom.
In nicer Pleasures, and in soft Delights,
Sylvanus languishes the Night away,
And wishes that the Light would longer stay:
If he but sees the fair Aurelia's Shade,
The pliant Youth bows down his suppliant Head
Just like a Bulrush, or the slender Reed:
But if her Garment touch his am'rous Eye,
His Sighs encrease, as if the Swain would die:
No sooner does he view the charming Face,
But instantly he quits th'enchanted Place;
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That draws him thither with such warm Desire.
Pity Sylvanus, and his wretched Doom,
Who is in Love, but knows not well with whom.
Horatio round the splendid Circle flies,
And, like the Hawk, darts Terror from his Eyes.
The captive Fair, just like the Coward Game,
Trembles to look upon the blazing Flame:
The Tyrant-Lover triumphs o'er the Prize;
For what we gain with Ease we most despise.
Inhuman this, to use bright Lycia so,
Who gave him first the Essence of a Beau.
And, like the Hawk, darts Terror from his Eyes.
The captive Fair, just like the Coward Game,
Trembles to look upon the blazing Flame:
The Tyrant-Lover triumphs o'er the Prize;
For what we gain with Ease we most despise.
Inhuman this, to use bright Lycia so,
Who gave him first the Essence of a Beau.
See how Salmonio's turn'd a Country Clown,
From being once the First-rate Fop in Town!
When spangl'd Coach and Six did so surprize,
And drew along with them the Ladies Eyes;
How then Salmonio revel'd in each Heart,
That scarce can claim in any now a part!
From being once the First-rate Fop in Town!
When spangl'd Coach and Six did so surprize,
And drew along with them the Ladies Eyes;
How then Salmonio revel'd in each Heart,
That scarce can claim in any now a part!
Here, in this View, a thousand diff'rent ways
There are to raise Mens Wonder, and to please:
Some satisfie with gaudy Cloaths their Pride,
And some in Stuffs too in a Coach will ride.
Six Days the Niggard shall his Carcase pine,
That on the seventh he may nobly dine.
Th'ambitious Fair aspiring to be great,
Shall, for these Ends, refuse to drink or eat;
So that on Sunday they be sure to bring
A handsom Equipage to make the Ring.
There are to raise Mens Wonder, and to please:
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And some in Stuffs too in a Coach will ride.
Six Days the Niggard shall his Carcase pine,
That on the seventh he may nobly dine.
Th'ambitious Fair aspiring to be great,
Shall, for these Ends, refuse to drink or eat;
So that on Sunday they be sure to bring
A handsom Equipage to make the Ring.
Others there are, rather than not appear,
Will hire a Chariot fifty times a Year;
Good-natur'd Madam strip her Petticoat
To make her Coachman fine in a Surtout;
Tho' in a Garret laid, and homely Bed,
The Coach and Horses hurry in her Head.
These quell the Vapours, and those stagnant Fumes
Which, as 'tis said, for want of Motion comes;
For Hippo will in some so strongly fix,
It can't be cur'd without a Coach and Six;
Whose swift Career whirls with such force about,
It drives gymnastickly the Vapours out;
Tho', as the Learn'd pretend to make it plain,
They catch hereby a more malignant Pain;
That which admits not of the wisest Rule,
But Ratcliff's here alike with Garth, a Fool.
Will hire a Chariot fifty times a Year;
Good-natur'd Madam strip her Petticoat
To make her Coachman fine in a Surtout;
Tho' in a Garret laid, and homely Bed,
The Coach and Horses hurry in her Head.
These quell the Vapours, and those stagnant Fumes
Which, as 'tis said, for want of Motion comes;
For Hippo will in some so strongly fix,
It can't be cur'd without a Coach and Six;
Whose swift Career whirls with such force about,
It drives gymnastickly the Vapours out;
Tho', as the Learn'd pretend to make it plain,
They catch hereby a more malignant Pain;
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But Ratcliff's here alike with Garth, a Fool.
Satyr, behold with more discerning Eyes,
Where Golden Dust does from the City rise,
That triumphs boldly in th'Olympick Prize.
Goverius shines with most exalted Pride,
Because he's honour'd with a noble Bride;
The Pageant-painting, like a Lord Mayor's Show,
Deck'd out with Maiden Queen and mimick Beau,
Lets the Spectator quickly understand
The Owner wants no Money, and no Land:
For, rais'd above the Crowd, with pompous Train,
He thinks his equal to a Monarch's Reign.
Th'indulgent Culls of late are grown so kind,
For Vanity they still Excuses find;
Seldom to Park th'good-natur'd Ninny drives,
But pleads, This we must do to please our Wives;
When th'Odds are very great, whether or no
You ever see the Dowdy with the Beau:
But if a Belle, the Ape is fond to play,
As Kittens do, by pawing all the Day;
Or else in publick with an awkward Grin,
He fleers at Madam to regale her Spleen.
Where Golden Dust does from the City rise,
That triumphs boldly in th'Olympick Prize.
Goverius shines with most exalted Pride,
Because he's honour'd with a noble Bride;
The Pageant-painting, like a Lord Mayor's Show,
Deck'd out with Maiden Queen and mimick Beau,
Lets the Spectator quickly understand
The Owner wants no Money, and no Land:
For, rais'd above the Crowd, with pompous Train,
He thinks his equal to a Monarch's Reign.
Th'indulgent Culls of late are grown so kind,
For Vanity they still Excuses find;
Seldom to Park th'good-natur'd Ninny drives,
But pleads, This we must do to please our Wives;
When th'Odds are very great, whether or no
You ever see the Dowdy with the Beau:
But if a Belle, the Ape is fond to play,
As Kittens do, by pawing all the Day;
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He fleers at Madam to regale her Spleen.
Reverse to this Oneglia thinks her 'Spouse
The dullest, useless Thing about her House;
Perswades the Coxcomb, and he does believe
She is a Saint, tho' others think an Eve.
With him she scorns to visit Plays or Park,
But rather there, than meet him in the dark.
The Coquet does in ev'ry Thing prevail,
Tho' all Men know her Art and Beauty stale;
But in the Ring she always will be seen
In various Colours, yellow, red, and green;
Yet, like her Horses, skinny, old, and lean.
No gaudy Tulip in the Month of May
Smells half so rank, or dresses half so gay.
The dullest, useless Thing about her House;
Perswades the Coxcomb, and he does believe
She is a Saint, tho' others think an Eve.
With him she scorns to visit Plays or Park,
But rather there, than meet him in the dark.
The Coquet does in ev'ry Thing prevail,
Tho' all Men know her Art and Beauty stale;
But in the Ring she always will be seen
In various Colours, yellow, red, and green;
Yet, like her Horses, skinny, old, and lean.
No gaudy Tulip in the Month of May
Smells half so rank, or dresses half so gay.
Manlius thro' all the City does proclaim
His Arms, his Equipage, and ancient Name;
For search the Court of Honour, and you'll see
Manlius's Name, but not his Pedigree.
What then? this is the Practice of the Town,
For should no Man bear Arms but what's his own
Hundreds that make the Ring would carry none:
And that would spoil the Glory of the Place,
For 'Scutcheons shew Antiquity and Race;
Which ev'ry one have Right to, that come here,
As Soldiers have to Arms, that go to War.
This is th'Olympick Field, he wins the Prize
That dazzles most the fair Spectator's Eyes.
His Arms, his Equipage, and ancient Name;
For search the Court of Honour, and you'll see
Manlius's Name, but not his Pedigree.
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For should no Man bear Arms but what's his own
Hundreds that make the Ring would carry none:
And that would spoil the Glory of the Place,
For 'Scutcheons shew Antiquity and Race;
Which ev'ry one have Right to, that come here,
As Soldiers have to Arms, that go to War.
This is th'Olympick Field, he wins the Prize
That dazzles most the fair Spectator's Eyes.
Here young Furnesio, like his Father, vain,
Without the Purchase would the Conquest gain;
With tawdry Dress, for great and noble pass,
As with the Lyon's Skin once did the Ass;
But, 'spite of all his Politicks, appears
Unluckily to his Disgrace, his Ears,
Just so the fancy'd Equipage will show
The Judgment, and the Choice from whence they flow.
Liv'ries sometimes afford a decent Grace
That are not trimm'd with Gold or Silver Lace:
But who in Bays and Worsted would appear
Ingeniously genteel, must copy here.
Without the Purchase would the Conquest gain;
With tawdry Dress, for great and noble pass,
As with the Lyon's Skin once did the Ass;
But, 'spite of all his Politicks, appears
Unluckily to his Disgrace, his Ears,
Just so the fancy'd Equipage will show
The Judgment, and the Choice from whence they flow.
Liv'ries sometimes afford a decent Grace
That are not trimm'd with Gold or Silver Lace:
But who in Bays and Worsted would appear
Ingeniously genteel, must copy here.
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Gazius and Lycius long have been enroll'd
In the bright Circus, and their Stories told:
What Conquests they have made, what Triumphs won
How often round th'Olympick Circle run,
The Prizes they have gain'd, how many Nymphs undone.
In the bright Circus, and their Stories told:
What Conquests they have made, what Triumphs won
How often round th'Olympick Circle run,
The Prizes they have gain'd, how many Nymphs undone.
Tell now, my Muse, what Wonders thou hast seen,
What heaps of Chariot-wheels thick crouding in,
To scour the dusty Plain, or beat the flowry Green.
Contend for Victory, which should exceed
The noblest Chariot, or the noblest Steed;
The Gilding, Carving, or the brightest Glass,
The fairest Wigg, or else the whitest Face;
The richest Cloathing, or the nicest Shape,
The best Retinue, or the greatest Ape.
Nor are the beauteous Sex excluded here,
As anciently in Greece and Rome they were,
But may contend to win the glorious Prize,
Gain'd by their Dress more often than their Eyes.
Here Heads 'gainst Heads are drawn up in array,
When careless Negligence shall win the Day;
Hoods against Hoods, and Ribbons singly prove
The Colour which conduces most to Love;
Ev'n Handkerchiefs are Ensigns now of War,
At once attract our Eyes and guard the Fair,
Thus glitt'ring Ornaments most deeply wound,
And dart us thro' as hurry'd swiftly round:
Just like the heated Wheels the Heart grows warm,
And struggling Nature sucks in ev'ry Charm:
Lab'ring for Breath, instead of cooling Air,
We draw in Poison scatter'd by the Fair.
Contagious this, Men frantick grow, and mad,
And here forget the Reason once they had.
Cymander thus, from a plain home-spun Clown,
Is now become the errant'st Beau in Town,
And dazzles with a splendid Show the Ring,
Tho' like the Batt at Twylight he comes in:
For 'tis enough Cymander has been there,
To boast of Favours, and to toast the Fair.
Well skill'd in Heraldry, he vaunts his Arms
Have more Admirers than Serinda's Charms;
Tho' in a Hack he loves a gen'rous She,
He hates the nauseous Airs of Quality.
Freedom and Liberty is what he seeks,
And downright Bawdy chiefly what he speaks.
In short, to make his Character compleat,
All Rakish Vices singly in him meet.
What heaps of Chariot-wheels thick crouding in,
To scour the dusty Plain, or beat the flowry Green.
Contend for Victory, which should exceed
The noblest Chariot, or the noblest Steed;
The Gilding, Carving, or the brightest Glass,
The fairest Wigg, or else the whitest Face;
The richest Cloathing, or the nicest Shape,
The best Retinue, or the greatest Ape.
Nor are the beauteous Sex excluded here,
As anciently in Greece and Rome they were,
But may contend to win the glorious Prize,
Gain'd by their Dress more often than their Eyes.
Here Heads 'gainst Heads are drawn up in array,
When careless Negligence shall win the Day;
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The Colour which conduces most to Love;
Ev'n Handkerchiefs are Ensigns now of War,
At once attract our Eyes and guard the Fair,
Thus glitt'ring Ornaments most deeply wound,
And dart us thro' as hurry'd swiftly round:
Just like the heated Wheels the Heart grows warm,
And struggling Nature sucks in ev'ry Charm:
Lab'ring for Breath, instead of cooling Air,
We draw in Poison scatter'd by the Fair.
Contagious this, Men frantick grow, and mad,
And here forget the Reason once they had.
Cymander thus, from a plain home-spun Clown,
Is now become the errant'st Beau in Town,
And dazzles with a splendid Show the Ring,
Tho' like the Batt at Twylight he comes in:
For 'tis enough Cymander has been there,
To boast of Favours, and to toast the Fair.
Well skill'd in Heraldry, he vaunts his Arms
Have more Admirers than Serinda's Charms;
Tho' in a Hack he loves a gen'rous She,
He hates the nauseous Airs of Quality.
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And downright Bawdy chiefly what he speaks.
In short, to make his Character compleat,
All Rakish Vices singly in him meet.
Volubius has a nice and courtly Mein,
That seldom is but with Decorum seen,
Hates gaudy Colours, but affects much green.
His House, his Coach, his Equipage, his Wife,
Must bear his Badge. To draw him to the Life,
How strangely we're in love with Colours grown!
For House-painting Marlb'rough is only known;
But for our Vices, we have really none.
This is a happy Age, when Vice may naked walk,
And Virtue only wants th'informing Cloak.
That seldom is but with Decorum seen,
Hates gaudy Colours, but affects much green.
His House, his Coach, his Equipage, his Wife,
Must bear his Badge. To draw him to the Life,
How strangely we're in love with Colours grown!
For House-painting Marlb'rough is only known;
But for our Vices, we have really none.
This is a happy Age, when Vice may naked walk,
And Virtue only wants th'informing Cloak.
That Virgius gives, not out of modish Whim,
But for a Cure, that others follow him
In Russet-brown, and well-chose Orange-trim.
He that wou'd to the top Court-fashion go,
Must not in flaunting Lace assume the Beau,
But chuse grave Colours fac'd with red, or so.
These decently apply'd with Harness plain,
And six rare Steeds to stretch the silken Rein,
Will win the noblest Prize there set to view,
Before the Green, the Yellow, or the Blue.
But for a Cure, that others follow him
In Russet-brown, and well-chose Orange-trim.
He that wou'd to the top Court-fashion go,
Must not in flaunting Lace assume the Beau,
But chuse grave Colours fac'd with red, or so.
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And six rare Steeds to stretch the silken Rein,
Will win the noblest Prize there set to view,
Before the Green, the Yellow, or the Blue.
Not but Severus has much Honour gain'd,
And long the Glory of the Field maintain'd,
Since Grandeur from Nobility will shine,
And make the Heirs confess their Noble Line,
When Upstart Heroes must the Prize decline.
Fortune don't always give the Palm away
To him that constantly is vain and gay;
But sometimes does indulgent Favours grant
To those that merit, and to those that want.
The gaudy Fop, with all his pompous State,
Envies this Greatness he can't imitate:
In vain he strives, by Air or Dress, to please,
While this Ambition breaks his fancy'd Ease:
In vain he labours by these Arts to rise;
He must be humble e're he can be wise;
That Rule well learnt, he boldly may essay
T'ascend the Scale of Honour, since he treads the Way.
Ambition eas'ly teaches us to fly
Like Icarus, boldly to attempt the Sky,
Where most, like him, meet with unsteady Fate,
And Thousands perish, for One fortunate.
And long the Glory of the Field maintain'd,
Since Grandeur from Nobility will shine,
And make the Heirs confess their Noble Line,
When Upstart Heroes must the Prize decline.
Fortune don't always give the Palm away
To him that constantly is vain and gay;
But sometimes does indulgent Favours grant
To those that merit, and to those that want.
The gaudy Fop, with all his pompous State,
Envies this Greatness he can't imitate:
In vain he strives, by Air or Dress, to please,
While this Ambition breaks his fancy'd Ease:
In vain he labours by these Arts to rise;
He must be humble e're he can be wise;
That Rule well learnt, he boldly may essay
T'ascend the Scale of Honour, since he treads the Way.
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Like Icarus, boldly to attempt the Sky,
Where most, like him, meet with unsteady Fate,
And Thousands perish, for One fortunate.
Ormond indeed without these Wings has flown
Beyond Ambition's reach, without a Crown:
Immortal Fame has mounted him so high,
He has no Space to touch 'twixt Earth and Sky,
But is the Glory of our British Isle,
On whom the British Circus e'er shall smile,
And yield their Honour sacred to his Word,
Who has preserv'd it by his peaceful Sword.
Beyond Ambition's reach, without a Crown:
Immortal Fame has mounted him so high,
He has no Space to touch 'twixt Earth and Sky,
But is the Glory of our British Isle,
On whom the British Circus e'er shall smile,
And yield their Honour sacred to his Word,
Who has preserv'd it by his peaceful Sword.
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