Rejected Addresses Part 8

ARCHITECTURAL ATOMS--TRANSLATED BY DR. B. {76b} {99}

Lege, d.i.c.k, Lege!--JOSEPH ANDREWS.

To be recited by the Translator's Son.

Away, fond dupes! who, smit with sacred lore, Mosaic dreams in Genesis explore, Doat with Copernicus, or darkling stray With Newton, Ptolemy, or Tycho Brahe!

To you I sing not, for I sing of truth, Primeval systems, and creation's youth; Such as of old, with magic wisdom fraught, Inspired LUCRETIUS to the Latians taught.

I sing how casual bricks, in airy climb, Encounter'd casual cow-hair, casual lime; How rafters, borne through wondering clouds elate, Kiss'd in their slope blue elemental slate, Clasp'd solid beams in chance-directed fury, And gave to birth our renovated Drury.

Thee, son of Jove! whose sceptre was confess'd, Where fair AEolia springs from Tethys' breast; Thence on Olympus, 'mid celestials placed, G.o.d OF THE WINDS, and Ether's boundless waste - Thee I invoke! Oh PUFF my bold design, Prompt the bright thought, and swell th' harmonious line Uphold my pinions, and my verse inspire With Winsor's {65} patent gas, or wind of fire, In whose pure blaze thy embryo form enroll'd, The dark enlightens, and enchafes the cold.

But, while I court thy gifts, be mine to shun The deprecated prize Ulysses won; Who, sailing homeward from thy breezy sh.o.r.e, The prison'd winds in skins of parchment bore.

Speeds the fleet bark till o'er the billowy green The azure heights of Ithaca are seen; But while with favouring gales her way she wins, His curious comrades ope the mystic skins; When, lo! the rescued winds, with boisterous sweep, Roar to the clouds and lash the rocking deep; Heaves the smote vessel in the howling blast, Splits the stretch'd sail, and cracks the tottering mast.

Launch'd on a plank, the buoyant hero rides Where ebon Afric stems the sable tides, While his duck'd comrades o'er the ocean fly, And sleep not in the whole skins they untie.

So, when to raise the wind some lawyer tries, Mysterious skins of parchment meet our eyes; On speeds the smiling suit--"Pleas of our Lord The King" s.h.i.+ne sable on the wide record; Nods the prunella'd bar, attorneys smile, And syren jurors flatter to beguile; Till stript--nonsuited--he is doom'd to toss In legal s.h.i.+pwreck and redeemless loss!

Lucky if, like Ulysses, he can keep His head above the waters of the deep.

AEolian monarch! Emperor of Puffs!

We modern sailors dread not thy rebuffs; See to thy golden sh.o.r.e promiscuous come Quacks for the lame, the blind, the deaf, the dumb; Fools are their bankers--a prolific line, And every mortal malady's a mine.

Each sly Sangrado, with his poisonous pill, Flies to the printer's devil with his bill, Whose Midas touch can gild his a.s.s's ears, And load a knave with folly's rich arrears.

And lo! a second miracle is thine, For sloe-juice water stands transformed to wine.

Where Day and Martin's patent blacking roll'd, Burst from the vase Pactolian streams of gold; Laugh the sly wizards, glorying in their stealth, Quit the black art, and loll in lazy wealth.

See Britain's Algerines, the lottery fry, Win annual tribute by the annual lie!

Aided by thee--but whither do I stray? - Court, city, borough, own thy sovereign sway; An age of puffs an age of gold succeeds, And windy bubbles are the sp.a.w.n it breeds.

If such thy power, O hear the Muse's prayer!

Swell thy loud lungs and wave thy wings of air; Spread, viewless giant, all thy arms of mist Like windmill-sails to bring the poet grist; As erst thy roaring son, with eddying gale, Whirl'd Orithyia from her native vale - So, while Lucretian wonders I rehea.r.s.e, Augusta's sons shall patronise my verse.

I sing of ATOMS, whose creative brain, With eddying impulse, built new Drury Lane; Not to the labours of subservient man, To no young Wyatt appertains the plan - We mortals stalk, like horses in a mill, Impa.s.sive media of atomic will; Ye stare! then Truth's broad talisman discern - 'Tis demonstration speaks--attend, and learn!

From floating elements in chaos hurl'd, Self-form'd of atoms, sprang the infant world: No great FIRST CAUSE inspired the happy plot, But all was matter--and no matter what.

Atoms, attracted by some law occult, Settling in spheres, the globe was the result; Pure child of CHANCE, which still directs the ball, As rotatory atoms rise or fall.

In ether launch'd, the peopled bubble floats, A ma.s.s of particles and confluent motes, So nicely poised, that if one atom flings Its weight away, aloft the planet springs, And wings its course through realms of boundless s.p.a.ce.

Outstripping comets in eccentric race Add but one atom more, it sinks outright Down to the realms of Tartarus and night.

What waters melt or scorching fires consume, In different forms their being re-a.s.sume: Hence can no change arise, except in name, For weight and substance ever are the same.

Thus with the flames that from old Drury rise Its elements primeval sought the skies; There pendulous to wait the happy hour When new attractions should restore their power: So, in this procreant theatre elate, Echoes unborn their future life await; Here embryo sounds in ether lie conceal'd, Like words in northern atmosphere congeal'd.

Here many a foetus laugh and half encore Clings to the roof, or creeps along the floor; By puffs concipient some in ether flit, And soar in bravos from the thundering pit; Some forth on ticket-nights {66} from tradesmen break, To mar the actor they design to make; While some this mortal life abortive miss, Crush'd by a groan, or strangled by a hiss.

So, when "Dog's-meat" re-echoes through the streets, Rush sympathetic dogs from their retreats, Beam with bright blaze their supplicating eyes, Sink their hind-legs, ascend their joyful cries; Each, wild with hope, and maddening to prevail, Points the pleased ear, and wags the expectant tail.

Ye fallen bricks! in Drury's fire calcined, Since doom'd to slumber, couch'd upon the wind, Sweet was the hour, when, tempted by your freaks, Congenial trowels smooth'd your yellow cheeks.

Float dulcet serenades upon the ear, Bends every atom from its ruddy sphere, Twinkles each eye, and, peeping from its veil, Marks in the adverse crowd its destined male.

The oblong beauties clap their hands of grit, And brick-dust t.i.tterings on the breezes flit; Then down they rush in amatory race, Their dusty bridegrooms eager to embrace.

Some choose old lovers, some decide for new, But each, when fix'd, is to her station true.

Thus various bricks are made, as tastes invite - The red, the grey, the dingy, or the white.

Perhaps some half-baked rover, frank and free, To alien beauty bends the lawless knee, But of unhallow'd fascinations sick, Soon quite his Cyprian for his married brick; The Dido atom calls and scolds in vain, No crisp AEneas soothes the widow's pain.

So in Cheapside, what time Aurora peeps, A mingled noise of dustmen, milk, and sweeps Falls on the housemaid's ear: amazed she stands, Then opes the door with cinder-sabled hands, And "Matches" calls. The dustman, bubbled flat, Thinks 'tis for him and doffs his fan-tail'd hat; The milkman, whom her second cries a.s.sail, With sudden sink unyokes the clinking pail; Now louder grown, by turns she screams and weeps - Alas! her screaming only brings the sweeps.

Sweeps but put out--she wants to raise a flame, And calls for matches, but 'tis still the same.

Atoms and housemaids! mark the moral true - If once ye go astray, no MATCH for you!

As atoms in one ma.s.s united mix, So bricks attraction feel for kindred bricks; Some in the cellar view, perchance, on high, Fair chimney chums on beds of mortar lie; Enamour'd of the sympathetic clod, Leaps the red bridegroom to the labourer's hod: And up the ladder bears the workman, taught To think he bears the bricks--mistaken thought!

A proof behold! if near the top they find The nymphs or broken-corner'd or unkind, Back to the base, "resulting with a bound," {67} They bear their bleeding carriers to the ground!

So legends tell along the lofty hill Paced the twin heroes, gallant Jack and Jill; On trudged the Gemini to reach the rail That s.h.i.+elds the well's top from the expectant pail, When, ah! Jack falls; and, rolling in the rear, Jill feels the attraction of his kindred sphere; Head over heels begins his toppling track, Throws sympathetic somersets with Jack, And at the mountain's base bobs plump against him, whack!

Ye living atoms, who unconscious sit, Jumbled by chance in gallery, box, and pit, For you no Peter opes the fabled door, No churlish Charon plies the shadowy oar; Breathe but a s.p.a.ce, and Boreas' casual sweep Shall bear your scatter'd corses o'er the deep, To gorge the greedy elements, and mix With water, marl, and clay, and stones, and sticks; While, charged with fancied souls, sticks, stones, and clay Shall take your seats, and hiss or clap the play.

O happy age! when convert Christians read No sacred writings but the Pagan creed - O happy age! when, spurning Newton's dreams, Our poets' sons recite Lucretian themes, Abjure the idle systems of their youth, And turn again to atoms and to truth; - O happier still! when England's dauntless dames, Awed by no chaste alarms, no latent shames, The bard's fourth book unblus.h.i.+ngly peruse, And learn the rampant lessons of the stews!

All hail, Lucretius! renovated sage!

Unfold the modest mystics of thy page; Return no more to thy sepulchral shelf, But live, kind bard--that I may live myself!

THEATRICAL ALARM-BELL--BY THE EDITOR OF THE M. P. {68} {99}

"Bounce, Jupiter, bounce!"--O'HARA.

LADIES AND GENTLEMEN,

As it is now the universally-admitted, and indeed pretty-generally- suspected, aim of Mr. Whitbread and the infamous, bloodthirsty, and, in fact, illiberal faction to which he belongs, to burn to the ground this free and happy Protestant city, and establish himself in St.

James's Palace, his fellow committeemen have thought it their duty to watch the principles of a theatre built under his auspices. The information they have received from an undoubted authority-- particularly from an old fruit-woman who has turned king's evidence, and whose name, for obvious reasons, we forbear to mention, though we have had it some weeks in our possession--has induced them to introduce various reforms--not such reforms as the vile faction clamour for, meaning thereby revolution, but such reforms as are necessary to preserve the glorious const.i.tution of the only free, happy, and prosperous country now left upon the face of the earth.

From the valuable and authentic source above alluded to, we have learnt that a sanguinary plot has been formed by some United Irishmen, combined with a gang of Luddites, and a special committee sent over by the Pope at the instigation of the beastly Corsican fiend, for destroying all the loyal part of the audience on the anniversary of that deeply-to-be-abhorred-and-highly-to-be-blamed stratagem, the Gunpowder Plot, which falls this year on Thursday the fifth of November. The whole is under the direction of a delegated committee of O. P.'s whose treasonable exploits at Covent Garden you all recollect, and all of whom would have been hung from the chandeliers at that time, but for the mistaken lenity of Government.

At a given signal, a well-known O. P. was to cry out from the gallery, "Nosey! Music!" whereupon all the O. P.'s were to produce from their inside pockets a long pair of shears, edged with felt, to prevent their making any noise, manufactured expressly by a wretch at Birmingham, one of Mr. Brougham's evidences, and now in custody.

With these they were to cut off the heads of all the loyal N. P.'s in the house, without distinction of s.e.x or age. At the signal, similarly given, of "Throw him over!" which it now appears always alluded to the overthrow of our never-sufficiently-enough-to-be- deeply-and-universally-to-be-venerated const.i.tution, all the heads of the N. P.'s were to be thrown at the fiddlers, to prevent their appearing in evidence, or perhaps as a false and illiberal insinuation that they have no heads of their own. All that we know of the further designs of these incendiaries is, that they are by-a- great-deal-too-much-too-horrible-to-be-mentioned.

The Manager has acted with his usual prompt.i.tude on this trying occasion. He has contracted for 300 tons of gun powder, which are at this moment placed in a small barrel under the pit; and a descendant of Guy Faux, a.s.sisted by Col. Congreve, has undertaken to blow up the house, when necessary, in so novel and ingenious a manner, that every O. P. shall be annihilated, while not a whisker of the N. P.'s shall be singed. This strikingly displays the advantages of loyalty and attachment to government. Several other hints have been taken from the theatrical regulations of the not-a-bit-the-less-on-that-account- to-be-universally-execrated monster Bonaparte. A park of artillery, provided with chain-shot, is to be stationed on the stage, and play upon the audience, in case of any indication of misplaced applause or popular discontent (which accounts for the large s.p.a.ce between the curtain and the lamps); and the public will partic.i.p.ate our satisfaction in learning that the indecorous custom of standing up with the hat on is to be abolished, as the Bow-street officers are provided with daggers, and have orders to stab all such persons to the heart, and send their bodies to Surgeons' Hall. Gentlemen who cough are only to be slightly wounded. Fruit-women bawling "Bill of the Play!" are to be forthwith shot, for which purpose soldiers will be stationed in the slips, and ball-cartridge is to be served out with the lemonade. If any of the spectators happen to sneeze or spit, they are to be transported for life; and any person who is so tall as to prevent another seeing, is to be dragged out and sent on board the tender, or, by an instrument to be taken out of the pocket of Procrustes, to be forthwith cut shorter, either at the head or foot, according as his own convenience may dictate.

Thus, ladies and gentlemen, have the committee, through my medium, set forth the not-in-a-hurry-to-be-paralleled plan they have adopted for preserving order and decorum within the walls of their magnificent edifice. Nor have they, while attentive to their own concerns, by any means overlooked those of the cities of London and Westminster. Finding on enumeration that they have, with a with-two- hands-and-one-tongue-to be-applauded liberality, contracted for more gunpowder than they want, they have parted with the surplus to the mattock-carrying and hustings-hammering high-bailiff of Westminster, who has, with his own shovel, dug a large hole in the front of the parish-church of St. Paul, Covent Garden, that, upon the least symptom of ill-breeding in the mob at the general election, the whole of the market may be blown into the air. This, ladies and gentlemen, may at first make provisions RISE, but we pledge the credit of our theatre that they will soon FALL again, and people be supplied, as usual, with vegetables, in the in-general-strewed-with-cabbage- stalks-but-on-Sat.u.r.day-night-lighted-up-with-lamps market of Covent Garden.

I should expatiate more largely on the other advantages of the glorious const.i.tution of these by-the-whole-of-Europe-envied realms, but I am called away to take an account of the ladies and other artificial flowers at a fas.h.i.+onable rout, of which a full and particular account will hereafter appear. For the present, my fas.h.i.+onable intelligence is scanty, on account of the opening of Drury Lane; and the ladies and gentlemen who honour me will not be surprised to find nothing under my usual head!!

THE THEATRE--BY THE REV. G. C. {68a} {99}