And hungry Monarchs, with a numerous Train
Of fuppliant Slaves, like Sancho, ftarve and reign.
But enter in, my Mufe, the Stage furvey,
And all its Pomp and Pageantry difplay;
Trap-doors and Pit-falls form th' unfaithful Ground,
And magic Walls encompass it around:
On either Side maim'd Temples fill our Eyes,
And intermix'd with Brothel-houfes rife e;
Disjointed Palaces in Order ftand,

And Groves obedient to the Mover's Hand *
O'erfhade the Stage, and flourish at Command.

A Stamp makes broken Towns and Trees entire:
So when Amphion ftruck the vocal Lire,

He faw the fpacious Circuit all around

}

With crowding Woods, and neighbouring Cities crown'd."

But next the Tiring-room furvey, and fee
Falfe Titles, and promifcuous Quality,

Confus'dly fwarm, from Heroes, and from Queens,
To thofe that fwing in Clouds, and fill Machines;
Their various Characters they chufe with Art,
The frowning Bully fits the Tyrant's Part:
Swoln Cheeks, and swaggering Belly, makes a Hoft,
Pale, meagre Louks, and hollow Voice, a Ghoft;
From careful Brows, and heavy down-caft Eyes,
Dull Cits, and thick-fkull'd Aldermen, arife:
The Comic Tone, infpir'd by * Fr, draws
At ev'ry Word loud Laughter and Applaufe:"
The mincing Dame continues as before,
Her Character's unchang'd, and acts a Whore.
Above the reft the Prince with mighty Stalks,
Magnificent in purple Bufkins walks:
The royal Robe his haughty Shoulders grace,
Profufe of Spangles and of Copper Lace:
Officious Rafcals to his mighty Thigh,
Guiltless of Blood, th'unpointed Weapon tie;

Then the gay glittering Diadem put on,
Pond'rous with Brafs, and ftarr'd with Bristol Stone.
His royal Confort next confults her Glass,
And out of twenty Boxes culls a Face.

The Whit'ning firft her ghaftly Looks befmears,
All pale and wan th' unfinish'd Form appears;
Till on her Cheeks the blushing Purple glows,
And a falfe Virgin Madefty beftows;

Her ruddy Lips the deep Vermillion dyes;
Length to her Brows the Pencil's Touch fupplies,
And with black bending Arches fhades her Eyes.
Well pleas'd, at length the Picture fhe beholds,
And fpots it o'er with artificial Molds; §

Her Countenance compleat, the Beaux fhe warms
With Looks not her's, and fpite of Nature charms,.
Thus artfully their Perfons they difguife,
Till the last Flourish bids the Curtain rife.
The Prince then enters on the Stage in State,
Behind a Guard of Candle-fnuffers wait:
There fwohn with Empire, terrible and fierce,
He fhakes the Dome, and tears his Lungs with Verfe;
His Subjects tremble, the fubmiffive Pit
Wrapt up in Silence and Attention fit;
Till freed at length, he lays afide the Weight
Of public Bufinefs and Affairs of State,
Forgets his Pomp, dead to ambitious Fires,
And to fome peaceful Brandy Shop retires,

Where in full Gills his anxious Thoughts he drowns,
And quaffs away the Care that waits on Crowns.
The Princefs next her pointed Charms' displays,
Where every Look the Pencil's Art betrays.
The Callow Squire at Distance feeds his Eyes,
And filently for Paint and Patches dies;
But if the Youth behind the Scenes retreat,
He fees the blended Colours melt with Heat,
And all the trickling Beauty, run in Sweat.
The borrow'd Vifage he admires no more,
And naufeates every Charm he lov'd before:
§ Black Patches,

R 4

}

So

So the fame Spear, for double Force renown'd,
Apply'd the Remedy that gave the Wound.

In edipus Listvere endles to engage, A F And draw at length the Rabble of the Stage, Where one for twenty Years has given Alarms, And call'd contending Monarchs to their Arms. Another fills a more important Poft,

And rifes every other Night a Ghost.

Thro' the cleft Stage his meagre Face he tears,
Then ftalks along, groans thrice, and difappears;
Others with Swords and Shields, the Soldiers Pride,
More than a thousand

Side and Times have changed, cheir

And in a thousand fatal Battles dy'd, frost good I
Thus feveral Perfons feveral Parts perform
Pale Lovers whine, and bluftering Heroes form
The ftern exafperated Tyrants rage,fort zalgranit
Till the kind Bowl of Poijon clears the Stages sd
Then Honours vanith, and Diftinctions ceafe N
Then with Reluctance haughty Queens undress 2
Heroes no more their fading Laurels boat, bated
And mighty Kings in private Men are loft ist
He whom fuch Titles fwell'd, fuch Pow'r made proud,
To whom whole Realms and vanquish'd Nations
bow'd,

Throws off the gaudy Plume, the purple, Trains DAY 3 que himself again to Hawort

And is in Statu

2700

€ 2789qqulib bussolat én organols exl finan abr¶ zrsible2 sni¿zklaida bas zavour? dilw stadão In a primed "Copy of the following Poem which was published foon after the Death of King William, the same I have feen written, the Name of W. Shippen, Efq. This, I must confess, does not bear fufficient Authority to fix it u upon that Gentleman, whofe Principles indeed were well known; nor Consoon nor can it be doubted that he But the was a flaunch of Writer of Faction Difplayed feems to be an utter Stranger to the moderate and patriotic Views attri buted to W. Shippen His Satire is Jometimes extremely virulent, and often degenerates into mere Abufe buThe Poem is upon many Accounts very curious. It engives no fill Picture of the Times in which it was written. We are prefented with a Groupe of Characters remarkable for their to Attachment depa trious Houfe of Hanover, who were employed in the most eminent Pofts of the Government during the first eight Years of Queen Ann's Reign.

om 290158

The Character of the famous Marquis of Wharton feems to be the Outline of Pope's masterly Description of the Duke his Son.

The Poetry of this Piece is very unequal: It fometimes rifes to a juft Height, and at other Times finks into profaic Flatnefs. The Character's are often overcharged, and aggravated into Caricaturas; fuch are thofe of the Earl of

Halifax,

Halifax, and Lord Somers. But there is certainly, upon the whole, ftrong Senfe, much vigorous Tura of Fancy, and many happy and spirited Touches of Wit and Pleafantry in this vehement Satire. 15

SAY,

NAY, Goddess Mufe, for thy all-fearching Eyes
Can Traitors trace thro' ev'ry dark Difguffe,
Can penetrate intriguing Statefmens Hearts,
Their deepest Plots, and all their wily Arts;
Say how a fierce Cabal combin'd of late,

Employ their anxious Thoughts t'embroil the State;
What angry Pow'r infpires 'em to complain
In Anna's gentle and propitious Reign,

FACTION, aeftlefs and repining Fiend,
Curdles their Blood, and gnaws upon their Mind
Offspring of Chaos, Enemy to Form,

By whofe deftructive Arts the World is torn.
She taught the Giants to attempt the Sky,

L

And Jove's avenging Thunder to defy red
She rais'd the Hand that ftruck the fatal Blow,14,
Which martyr'd Jove's Vicegerent here below;
She still purfues him with relentless Hate,
Arraigns his Mem'ry, and insults his Fate.
'Tis the, that wou'd for ev'ry flight Offence
Depofe a true hereditary Prince;

That would Ufurpers for their Treafon crown,
Till Time and Vengeance drag them headlong
down,

And exil'd Monarchs re-affert their rightful Throne.
No Constitution in the World can boast
A Scheme of Laws more rational, more juft,
Than England's are; where fov'reign, kingly Sway,
Is mixt and qualify'd with fuch Allay,
That free-born Subjects willingly obey.

Nor yet fo bafely mixt, as that our Kings not
Are only. Tools of State, and pow'rlefs Things.get

For