Volume Iii Part 109 (1/2)
Sir _Richard_ to shew his Zeal for the Protestant Religion, is at the Expence of a Tar-Barrel and a Ball. I peeped into the Knight's great Hall, and saw a very pretty Bevy of Spinsters. My dear Relict was amongst them, and ambled in a Country-Dance as notably as the best of 'em.
May all his Majesty's liege Subjects love him as well as his good People of this his ancient Borough. Adieu.
[Footnote 1: (Two in the Morning is the Word, old Boy.)]
No. 617. Monday, November 8, 1714.
'Torva Mimalloneis implerunt cornua bombis, Et raptum vitulo caput ablatura superbo Ba.s.saris, et lyncem Maenas flexura corymbis, Evion ingeminat reparabilis adsonat Echo.'
Persius.
There are two Extreams in the Stile of Humour, one of which consists in the Use of that little pert Phraseology which I took Notice of in my last Paper; the other in the Affectation of strained and pompous Expressions, fetched from the learned Languages. The first savours too much of the Town; the other of the College.
As nothing ill.u.s.trates better than Example, I shall here present my Reader with a Letter of Pedantick Humour, which was written by a young Gentleman of the University to his Friend; on the same Occasion, and from the same Place, as the lively Epistle published in my last _Spectator_.
_Dear Chum_,
'It is now the third Watch of the Night, the greatest Part of which I have spent round a capacious Bowl of _China_, filled with the choicest Products of both the _Indies_. I was placed at a quadrangular Table, diametrically opposite to the Mace-bearer. The Visage of that venerable Herald was, according to Custom, most gloriously illuminated on this joyful occasion. The Mayor and Aldermen, those Pillars of our Const.i.tution, began to totter; and if any one at the Board could have so far articulated, as to have demanded intelligibly a Reinforcement of Liquor, the whole a.s.sembly had been by this time extended under the Table.
'The Celebration of this Night's Solemnity was opened by the Obstreperous Joy of Drummers, who, with their Parchment Thunder, gave a signal for the Appearance of the Mob under their several Cla.s.ses and Denominations. They were quickly joined by the melodious Clank of Marrow-bone and Cleaver, whilst a Chorus of Bells filled up the Consort. A Pyramid of Stack-f.a.ggots cheared the Hearts of the Populace with the Promise of a Blaze: The Guns had no sooner uttered the Prologue, but the Heavens were brightned with artificial Meteors, and Stars of our own making; and all the _High-street_ lighted up from one End to another, with a Galaxy of Candles. We collected a Largess for the Mult.i.tude, who tippled Eleemosynary till they grew exceeding Vociferous. There was a Paste-board Pontiff with a little swarthy Daemon at his Elbow, who, by his diabolical Whispers and Insinuations tempted his Holiness into the Fire, and then left him to s.h.i.+ft for himself. The Mobile were very sarcastick with their Clubs, and gave the old Gentleman several Thumps upon his triple Head-piece. _Tom Tyler's_ Phiz is something damaged by the Fall of a Rocket, which hath almost spoiled the Gnomon of his Countenance. The Mirth of the Commons grew so very outragious, that it found Work for our Friend of the _Quorum_, who, by the help of his _Amanuensis_, took down all their Names and their Crimes, with a Design to produce his Ma.n.u.script at the next Quarter-Sessions, _&c. &c. &c_.
'I shall subjoin to the foregoing Piece of a Letter, the following Copy of Verses translated from an Italian Poet, who was the _Cleveland_ of his Age, and had Mult.i.tudes of Admirers. The Subject is an Accident that happened under the Reign of Pope _Leo_, when a Firework, that had been prepared upon the Castle of St. _Angelo_, begun to play before its Time, being kindled by a Flash of Lightning.
The Author hath written his Poem [1] in the same kind of Style, as that I have already exemplified in Prose. Every Line in it is a Riddle, and the Reader must be forced to consider it twice or thrice, before he will know that the _Cynick's_ Tenement is a _Tub_, and _Bacchus_ his Cast-coat a _Hogs-head_, &c.
' 'Twas Night, and Heav'n, a_ Cyclops, _all the Day, An Argus now did countless Eyes display; In ev'ry Window_ Rome _her Joy declares, All bright, and studded with terrestrial Stars.
A blazing Chain of Lights her Roofs entwines.
And round her Neck the mingled l.u.s.tre s.h.i.+nes, The_ Cynick's _rowling Tenement conspires, With_ Bacchus _his Cast-coat, to feed the Fires.
The Pile, still big with undiscover'd Shows, The_ Tuscan _Pile did last its Freight disclose, Where the proud Tops of_ Rome's _new_ aetna _rise, Whence Giants sally, and invade the Skies.
Whilst now the Mult.i.tude expect the Time, And their tir'd Eyes the lofty Mountain climb, A thousand Iron Mouths their Voices try, And thunder out a dreadful Harmony; In treble Notes the small Artill'ry plays, The deep-mouth'd Cannon bellows in the Ba.s.s.
The lab'ring Pile now heaves; and having giv'n Proofs of its Travail sighs in Flames to Heav'n.
The Clouds invelop'd Heav'n from Human Sight, Quench'd every Star, and put out ev'ry Light; Now Real Thunder grumbles in the Skies, And in disdainful Murmurs_ Rome _defies; Nor doth its answer'd Challenge_ Rome _decline; But whilst both Parties in full Consort join, While Heav'n and Earth in Rival Peals resound, The doubtful Cracks the Hearer's Sense confound; Whether the Claps of Thunderbolts they hear, Or else the Burst of Canon wounds their Ear; Whether Clouds raged by struggling Metals rent, Or struggling Clouds in_ Roman _Metals pent.