Our humbler province is to tend the Fair;
Not a less pleasing, though less glorious, care.
To save the powder from too rude a gale;
Nor let th' imprisoned essences exhale.
To draw fresh colours from the vernal flowers;
To steal from rainbows, ere they drop in showers,
A brighter Wash! to curl their waving hairs,
Assist their blushes, and inspire their Airs!
Nay! oft, in dreams, Invention we bestow,
To change a flounce, or add a furbelow.
'This day, black omens threat the brightest Fair That e'er deserved a watchful Spirit's care! Some dire disaster, or by force, or slight;
But What, or Where, the Fates have wrapped in night! 'Whether the Nymph shall break DIANA's law; Or some frail china jar receive a flaw!
Or stain her honour, or her new brocade!
Forget her prayers, or miss a Masquerade!
Or lose her heart, or necklace, at a Ball!
Or whether Heaven has doomed, that Shock must fall!
'Haste then, ye Spirits! to your charge repair!
The flutt'ring Fan be ZEPHYRETTA's care!
The Drops to thee, BRILLANTE, we consign;
And, MOMENTILLA, let the Watch be thine!
Do thou, CRISPISSA, tend her fav'rite Lock!
ARIEL himself shall be the guard of Shock!
'To fifty chosen Sylphs of special note,
We trust th' important charge, the Petticoat!
Oft have we known that sevenfold fence to fail;
Though stiff with hoops, and armed with ribs of whale!
Form a strong line about the silver bound,
And guard the wide circumference around!
'Whatever Spirit, careless of his charge,
His post neglects, or leaves the Fair at large;
Shall feel sharp vengeance soon o'ertake his sins!
Be stopped in vials, or transfixed with pins,
Or plunged in lakes of bitter Washes lie,
Or wedged, whole Ages, in a bodkin's eye!
Gums and pomatums shall his flight restrain;
While, clogged, he beats his silken wings in vain!
Or alum-styptics, with contracting power,
Shrink his thin essence, like a rivelled flower!
Or, as IXION fixed, the wretch shall feel
The giddy motion of the whirling Mill;
'Midst fumes of burning chocolate shall glow,
And tremble at the sea that froths below!'
He spoke. The Spirits from the Sails descend. Some, orb in orb, around the Nymph extend. Some thread the mazy ringlets of her hair. Some hang upon the pendants of her ear. With beating hearts, the dire event they wait; Anxious, and trembling for the birth of Fate.
CLOSE by those meads for ever crowned with flowers, Where Thames with pride surveys his rising towers, There stands a structure of majestic frame, Which from the neighb'ring Hampton takes its name. Here, Britain's Statesmen oft the fall foredoom Of foreign Tyrants, and of Nymphs at home! Here, thou, great ANNA! whom three Realms obey, Dost sometimes counsel take, and sometimes tea!
Hither, the Heroes and the Nymphs resort,
To taste awhile the pleasures of a Court!
In various talk, th' instructive hours they past,
Who gave the Ball, or paid the visit, last!
One speaks the glory of the British Queen;
And one describes a charming Indian screen.
A third interprets motions, looks, and eyes;
At ev'ry word, a reputation dies!
Snuff, or the Fan, supply each pause of chat,
With singing, laughing, ogling, and all that!
Meanwhile, declining from the noon of day, The sun obliquely shoots his burning ray. The hungry Judges soon the sentence sign; And wretches hang, that Jurymen may dine! The merchant from th' Exchange returns in peace; And the long labours of the Toilet cease.
BELINDA now, whom thirst of fame invites, Burns to encounter two advent'rous Knights, At Ombre singly, to decide their doom;
And swells her breast with conquests yet to come. Strait, the three Bands prepare in Arms to join; Each Band the number of the sacred Nine.
Soon as she spreads her Hand, th' aerial guard Descend, and sit on each important card. First, ARIEL perched upon a Matadore; Then each, according to the rank they bore: For Sylphs, yet mindful of their ancient race, Are, as when Women, wondrous fond of Place!
Behold, four Kings in majesty revered, With hoary whiskers and a forky beard; And four fair Queens, whose hands sustain a flower, Th' expressive emblem of their softer power; Four Knaves, in garbs succinct, a trusty band, Caps on their heads, and halberds in their hand; And particoloured troops, a shining Train; Draw forth, to combat on the velvet plain!
The skilful Nymph reviews her force with care 'Let Spades be Trumps!' she said; and Trumps they Now move to war her sable Matadores,
In show like Leaders of the swarthy Moors.
Spadillio first, unconquerable Lord!
Led off two captive Trumps, and swept the board.
As many more Manillio forced to yield;
And marched a victor from the verdant Field.
Him Basto followed; but his fate more hard
Gained but one Trump and one plebeian card.
With his broad sabre next, a Chief in years,
The hoary Majesty of Spades appears;
Puts forth one manly leg, to sight revealed,
The rest his many-coloured robe concealed.
The rebel Knave, that dares his Prince engage,
Proves the just victim of his royal rage.
Ev'n mighty Pam (that Kings and Queens o'erthrew,
And mowed down armies in the fights of Lu),
Sad chance of war! now, destitute of aid,
Falls undistinguished by the victor Spade.
Thus far, both armies to BELinda yield.
Now to the Baron, Fate inclines the Field!
His warlike Amazon her host invades,
Th' Imperial Consort of the Crown of Spades!
The Club's black Tyrant first her victim died,
Spite of his haughty mien and barb'rous pride!
What boots the regal circle on his head!
His giant limbs in State unwieldy spread!
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