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The ſo much talk'd of and expected Old Woman's DUNCIAD.

OR, MIDWIFE's MASTER-PIECE.

CONTAINING The moſt choice Collection of Humdrums and Drivellers, that was ever expos'd to public View.

BY MARY MIDNIGHT.

WITH Hiſtorical, Critical, and Explanatory NOTES, BY Margelina Scribelinda Macularia.

Quos fama recens & celebravit Anus. BARROW.
No Author ever ſpar'd a Brother; Wits are Game Cocks to one another. GAY.
Out with it DUNCIAD. POPE.

Publiſh'd purſuant to Act of Parliament, as the greateſt Work ever before attempted in any Age, Country, or Language.

LONDON: Printed for THEO. CARNAN, and ſold by F. STAMPER, in Pope's-Head Alley, Cornhill; J. ROBINSON, at the Golden-Lion, Ludgate-ſtreet; R. WILSON, in Pall-Mall; and at all the Pamphlet-Shops. MDCCLI.

PREFACE

[]

AS there are ſo many Impoſtors and Imitators Abroad, it is highly requiſite the Public ſhould be ſatisfied, that this is the true and genuine Dunciad of Mrs. Mary Midnight; to which End I have wrote this ſhort Preface. The Reader, therefore, is deſir'd to attend to me with a little Patience, before he enters upon this great and wonderful Work. The extenſive Fame our Author has gain'd, by her learned Lucubrations, in all the Courts and Univerſities in Europe, has excited many (who have, by ſome Means or other, met with ſome of her Fragments) to vend among them their Heaps of Traſh in her Name; but it is hop'd the World will do her the Juſtice, to think ſhe is not the Author of ſuch poor paultry, wiſhy, waſhy, ſhim-ſham Performances.

To reward, among many others, the Authors of ſuch Proceedings in a Manner due to their Deſerts, Mrs. Midnight has deſign'd and executed this Work; but, as an Affair of ſo much Conſequence could not but get Air in the World, ſeveral of theſe, who were conſcious of their Guilt, applied to her to be excus'd a Place; or, in other Words, to be left out of her Dunciad: Among which came the celebrated Pentweazle, and meanly offer'd her five Guineas in part, on Subſcription to her Miſcellany of Poems, to be publiſh'd ſome Time in February next. But Mrs. Midnight being above any mercenary View, was deaf to all Overtures, however conſiderable, of this kind: Upon which, with their uſual Aſſurance, her Enemies advertis'd even this intended Work, the Old Woman's Dunciad, in her's and in my Name, intending to impoſe ſome Trumpery or other on the World, before this Poem could appear; and, with the moſt conſummate Impudence, put out Advertiſements againſt the fictitious [] Imitators of Mrs. Midnight's Works, to out-face, if poſſible, the very Truth itſelf. But we have, thro' a ſurpriſing Quickneſs of Genius, peculiar to our Author, anticipated their Deſigns, to their utter Confuſion: Since the World will, by reading the following Work, be convinc'd of the genuine and elevated Spirit of Mrs. Midnight, and will not, for the future, be ſo eaſily impos'd on. I ſhall juſt add a Word or two on our Author's Character in general, and on this Work in particular. As to Mrs. Midnight's Reputation as an Author, notwithſtanding ſhe has made herſelf known but lately under that Name, yet it has been very extenſive, under the more general one of Old Woman; ſhe having had the principal Hand in moſt of the Performances that have been wrote within theſe few Years paſt; all which have been infallibly known by the Critics, who upon Peruſal of them, have immediately laid them down, and crying out, the Author's an Old Woman; intimating thereby their Knowledge of her Works, and her eſtabliſh'd Reputation that rais'd them above Criticiſm. As to this Poem in particular, the Publick can never enough acknowledge the Obligations they owe her, in theſe Improvements of our Language; which, however, fall vaſtly ſhort of what ſhe purpoſes to do, having ſelected ſeveral thouſands of the moſt curious and copious in the * Gemerian or Welch Tongue, which will far exceed any Embelliſhment whatſoever drawn from the Greek or Latin.

MARGELINA SCRIBELINDA MACULARIA.

THE Old Woman's DUNCIAD.

[3]
O Thou, whatever Title to thine Ear,
Whether Tom Jones, Joe Andrews, or what not,
Sound pleaſing: thou, to my aſpiring Song
Indulgent ſmile, while to high Pindus Top, 1
[4]Apex excelſe! I volitate, nor frown
Elenthical. Of Dunces, and the Tribe
Of Noſe-obeſate, atramental Sons
I ſing: nor PHOEBUS call, but to my Aid
Invoke MELPOMENE, of all the nine
My chief, beſt Patron; and THALIA, thou,
Haſte thee from Avon's Banks, nor cull more Flow'rs
For Shakeſpear's Wreath: but help t' aſſiſt my Flight; 2
[5]For high on Pegaſean Wing, I mean
To ſoar velocitate. O ſwifter far
Than fleet the winged Atoms in the Air,
When Auſter its Euroclydon dilates:
Or when pervading Night exceſſive pours
The Twilight dun; with archimagic Art,
(A thrice repeated Charm by Hecate taught!)
The Dame venefic, on a Virgult borne,
Or courſer ſtramentitious, Aether Wings.
[6]
Thanks to the Power of Verſe! lo! now I ſoar
And lo! the Houſe of Dullneſs is in view
See tow'ring Paul's eecleſiaſtic Dome
Its Head rears altitudinate: O far
The meaner emulating Tribe above
Of Spires parochial: ſo fam'd Cambria's Hills.
Like Alps on Alps, Pelion o'er Oſſa pil'd 4
[7]High as Olympus, loſe in airy Height
Their Heads; as antient as the Pen of Time.
There is a Cave faſt by the Houſe of Pray'r,
Where Hebetudo dwells; ſo low its Site,
That it may merit well ſpeluncal Name.
Its veſtibule that gulphy Influx near,
Where the Colluvian Current pouring on, 5
[8]Ruſhing ſonorous Falls the hoarſe Caſcade,
Th' illucid Lapſe adown, with Torrent thick
Regurgling lutulent. The Cave within
The torpid Wretch, by igneal Glimmer ſeen. 6
[9]With Succubus Canidia, by that Name
If rightly ſhe be call'd, ſit hov'ring. So
In culmiferous Fields or frondoſe Woods,
With all their Opulence and native Worth,
Th' Egyptian Tribe itinerant repoſe
At prandial Noon, and dire mundungus Fume: 7
[10]So they the lov'd Nicotian maſticate,
Or thro' Shiptonian Syrinx it inhale,
Fumifical: while in her better Hand
The Goddeſs a Pyxidicule ſuſtains,
And Autographs and Schedals grace her Right.
Her daily Lucubrations! Thoughts prelaute!
Thoughts which her meditative Owl inſpires. 8
[11]For he, the Sodale of her ſtudious Hours,
Sung ululatious; contemplating deep.
Bright Contemplation! dignate of himſelf!
Illuſtrious Son of Hebetudo's Race!
O all ye num'rous Tribe, who in her Cave
Delight to dwell; of you the Muſe ſhall ſing.
The Verſe as a Mnemoſynum accept,
And erſt with poplicolal Hand repay.
[12]
Within this ſacred Cave where Hebes dwells,
In this her ſluggiſh Pomp, her Sons attend;
Each to the nodding Head and beck'ning Eye
Obſequious. Chief, ſapient Bubo firſt
Stands pendent; in his mounted Carcer held
Reſtrictive. Here he genders Thought on Thought,
As 'tween his Nods meditabundate, Want
And Hunger gaunt awake his bardate Soul.
[13]
Ah Miſer thoſe who fall in Dulneſs ſnare!
More fatal hers than Circe's Charms of Yore,
Which porcufied Ulyſſes vagrant train!
Say, Muſe, how Ebenezer, by her Pow'r,
From human Frame into bubonic Form
Fell metamorphos'd (ſo Aſcalaphus.
Son Acherontic! by rag'd Proſerpine
Was verted hapleſs) once ſolertial Smart, 10
[14]He laugh'd and ſung; e'er yet Canidia curſt,
Her macerated Corps in Sacell laid;
Where, in the Form of Vacuum, ſhe dwelt,
And baniſh'd ev'ry Golden, Rhyming Thought.
Juſt then, in fatal Hour grave Hebes woke,
And in her leaden Hand a Cruſtule bore: 11
[15]Charm more coercive to th' inedial Goût,
Then noctial Incantation of an Hag,
Than orient Tal'sman or myſterious Caſt.
By learn'd Genethliac made. Ah! luckleſs! Ah!
He took and eat; and from that Moment ſunk
Mancipial Immolation to her Will.
And now, whene'er the Coenal Hour is nigh,
Behold her potent Wand, her Paxil, waves
And he, in Cell ſublime, a Bird of Night,
Screams hideous, or, in Dormitation mounts
Aquiline Wings, and in Etherial Space
Builds caſtral Edifices: Or he's pent,
[16]In Shape Muſtelar, to the Goddeſs' Uſe
Subſervient; or, perverted into Form
Anicular, he verrates coenal Traſh.
With miſcellaneous Art; cracks kernell'd Nuts 12
[17]Or mumbles Grace twice o'er; and grinning ſhews
His toothleſs Gums. Ah void of Pow'r to hurt!
Next him, as next in Erudition taught,
From Oxon's fam'd Gymnaſial lo! he comes;
For whom, on Iſis' Banks, firſt founding Fame
The Student's, Honour, circumclangor'd wide
With Buccination: metamorphos'd now, 13
[18]Behold him into a Monedule turn'd,
Roſtrate th' ingenial Cloac: Labour vile!
Or, in Theriſtral, femininely clad,
Aſſiſt the Trump of Fame debilitate
With Garrulations; while ſage Bubo dreams
Of Domes Chimaeric; Domes too dearly bought!
For here no ſtipend Earth, nor Art piles up
The ſculptur'd Stone, nor glow enflaming Kilns. 14
[19]To denſe the conculated Clay; and yet
For this, he ſhares the Cibals of the Day.
The next Inhabitant of Hebes Cave!
Third fav'rite Son! Frigidio calls my Song,
Whoſe worth thro' Fame's loud retrovent reſpires.
Behold, with gloomy Brow, contracted Frown,
In hypocondriac cephalalgiac vext,
He ſits contriſtate; manducating Thoughts 15
[20]In vaccal Rumination; for alas!
Pollution braccial, oviparous Care
Him deep affects. O ſay, celeſtial Muſe,
From what fell Cauſe this cacatural Woe
Her darling Child befell. So will'd the Fates,
That in accurſed Hour, on vile Intent.
Smack'em, a hoſtile and miſchievous Wight,
Enter'd this Cavern of Cimmerian Gloom, 16
[21]And, with Combuſtion dire, he mouthed out
Verboſe, ſtentorian Execrations, big
With Fate portentous and terrific Wrath.
Frigidio ſhiver'd with gelatic Fear;
And thro' th' inteſtine Cavern Murmurs roar'd.
Direful Preſage of ſome deſcending III!
Which now to fly (but who from Fate can fly?) 17
[22]He feſtinates precipitate: but lo!
The Laſanon's no more. Fate inbenign!
In Deflagration blazing! ſee it ſink
In Cinefaction. Dire Amazement! ah!
His Fears irrupt deorſate; while alas!
Diſtain'd, he ſends Effluvias baleful round:
As when the Son of Excrement and Night,
High on his merdoſe Vehicle uprear'd,
Attaints the Breeze nocturnal: violent, 18
[23]At firſt the antiaromatic ſtrikes
The Noſe inflating: till by ſlow Degrees
The ambient Air itſelf edulcorates,
And in Euthanaſy the Stench decays.
O fam'd Carnan, thou Prototype of Curl,
Be this thy Fate: the ſuperfluent Pan
T' evacuate, or with thy Hands immers'd 19
[24]In the lutulent Flood, to pict or gild
Thy rubrick Poſt; till like horreal Valve
It beam refulgent.
But hark! what Clamours ſtrike the Tympanum 20
[25]Auricular! Remains there ought as yet
Amid this Cave within the Muſes' lore!
A calamarian Crowd in Limbo lo!
Like the fam'd Naiads, rage, with curved Arm,
In monomachial War, and cruel Strife.
Thoſe, chiefly, who by Smack'em's potent Hand
Late fell inglorious. Dunciadus, thou
Thou Entity, of univerſal Fame, 21
[26]Thou greateſt Crocodile, and greater yet
Illuſtrious Woodville! Ha! what do I ſee?
Our eaſtern Bramin raiſe his virile Hoar
Moſt venerable, with each motley Scribe
Magiriſt, Student, Diſputant, what not? 22
[27]Muſe ſhut the Scene, the Soul enſlaving Scene
Or Hebetudo's potent Wand will make
Ev'n me to nod.
Now is that Work compleat, that mighty Work,
Which dignate in inſculptur'd Braſs to ſhine,
Or macrocolum typ'd, ſo long ſhall live
As the didaſcal Sage the virgult Shakes
In Vapulations Let no Cenſor then
Deem this a Song of Folly, or auſtere, 23
[28]Call it a Cacoſyntheton, or me
Stygmatize, with Hyberbation Name.
But if fond Regard fot modern Verſe,
Deſerve Exſibilation, or the Frown
Of quaint Deriſion. If 'tis ſo let looſe,
The Storm of Momus, I can bear it all.

* INTERPRETATION.

[3]
O thou, whatever Name ſound eaſy,
Jones, Andrews, or what elſe may pleaſe you;
Do thou look pleaſant on my Rhime.
While Pindus Top, high Top! I climb.
[4]Of Dunces, which the Verſe ſuppoſes
The Sons of Ink with ſnotty Noſes,
I ſing: nor call our Rhyming Domine,
But beg my fav'rite Wench MELPOMENE
(My ſureſt Friend of all the Nine)
To lend a Hand to this Deſign.
And leave, thou, Thaly, Avon's Shore
Nor Roſemary cull for Shakeſpear more
[5]But help my Trot around Parnaſſus,
Swift on your ambling Nag Pegaſus,
Swifter than ſcamper Snow or Sleet,
When Seaman's Plague drives on the Fleet,
Or when at Night, by Magic wrought,
Of three times three by Hecate taught,
Witches on Wiſps of Straw their Bums ſtick,
Or ride like Devils aſtride a Broom-ſtick.
[6]G-d bleſs the Muſe—I thank her now
I mount and Dullneſs' Cellar view.
Look where the Church of great St. Paul
Rears up its loſty Head ſo tall,
Above the Pariſh Churches all.
So notified Welch Mountains high,
Rear up their Heads above the Sky.
Alps, Alps, and Pelion Oſſa pile,
The Lord knows how many hundred Mile;
[7]But by the neareſt; Gueſs that's giv'n
Within Hop, Step, and Jump of Heav'n;
Stand, loſt in Clouds and Fogs and Rime,
As antient as the Pen of Time.
Now by this Church there is a Cellar,
Where Goddeſs Dullneſs is the Dweller;
So very low, that it may well
Deſerve the Title of a Cell.
Its Groundfil a Stone's Throw or more,
From where the ruſhing common Shore
[8]Runs bubbling down the muddy Place,
Roaring with Dirt and Naſtineſs,
Within this Cellar, ſcarce diſcern'd
By Cinders into Embers burn'd,
[9]There hov'ring ſits the Humdrum Wretch
With Canid; call'd (if right) a Witch:
As in Corn Fields, or leaſy Woods,
With all their Chattles and their Goods,
The wandering Gypſies ſit them down,
And ſmoke their Dinner Pipe at Noon,
[10]So they the dear Tobacco Quid,
Or ſuck ſhort Pipe, as Shipton did,
While in the Goddeſs better Hand,
A 'bacco Box is at Command;
And the waſte Book of common Place,
And written Sheets her left doth grace,
Her daily Works of Candle Light,
Works which her ſcreech Owl doth indite:
[11]For he, Companion of their Studies,
Was us'd to hoot, to pleaſe the Goddeſs:
In a brown Study always gone,
Oh ever worthy Dullneſs Son!
O you, whoe'er delight to dwell
Within the Threſhold of her Cell;
Of you, the Muſe her Song ſhall tell:
[12]Yet in Remembrance beas the Lay,
And as the Time may ſerve repay.
Within the Cell where Dullneſs Lives,
Conſtant each Son attendance gives;
Let her but nod or wink her Eyes,
Whip, Preſto, in a Trice, he flies.
Here, chief, her Owl, ſedate and Sage,
Stands hanging, in his mounted Cage:
While Thoughts ſucceed, in nodding Fits,
As muſing in the Dumps he ſits,
And Hunger jogs and wakes his Wits.
[13]Unlucky thoſe whom Dullneſs curſes!
Her charms more fatal are than Circe's,
That made, of old, ſuch horrid Work,
And turn'd Greek Sailors into Pork!
Say Muſe, how, 'cauſe it hap'd to pleaſe her,
From human Form poor Ebenezer
(For ſome vile End which ſhe had purpos'd)
Into an Owl was metamorphos'd.
As once was ſerv'd the tatling ſon,
Aſcalaphus, of Acheron.
[14]Late witty, Smart, he laugh'd and ſung;
E'er curſt Conidia on him hung,
Who, meagre, in his Pocket crept
And there in form of nothing ſlept;
Whence ev'ry golden Croſs ſhe baniſh'd,
And ev'n the Sound of Chinking vaniſh'd.
Then Dullneſs ſhew'd, in Hour accurs'd,
Within her leaden Hand a Cruſt;
[15]More pow'rful o'er the hungry Stomach
Than nightly Charm the Witches do make?
Then eaſtern Tal'sman or ſtrange Scrawls
On the learn'd Fortune-teller's Walls!
He took and eat—Lord bleſs my Eyes!
And fell her ſlaviſh Sacrifice.
And now, whene'er he wants a Supper,
She waves her pow'rful 'Bacco-ſtopper,
And he, aloft; a ſcreech Owl, ſcreams!
Or gets into his tantrum Dreams;
Fancies himſelf an Eagle there,
And raiſes Caſtles in the Air;
[16]Or elſe, into a Weazel Pent,
He ſerves the Goddeſs's intent.
Or elſe, in an old Woman ſeen,
Sweeps Rubbiſh for a Magazine.
[17]Cracks Nuts that have been crack'd before,
Or, toothleſs, mumbles Grace twice o'er.
Next him, who next in Point of Knowledge is,
Brought up in one of Oxon's Colleges,
For whom, on Iſis' Banks the Strumpet
Fame founded Student thro' her Trumpet,
Now turn'd into a Jack-daw chatters.
Or in the Jakes of Genius ſpatters;
[18]Or, dreſt in Female Petticoat,
Helps Fame to ſound a louder Note;
While the wiſe ſcreech Owl, in Chimaera,
Builds mighty Caſtles; bought too dear, Ah!
For here no Ground-Rent is requir'd,
Nor Carvers Work to be admir'd,
Nor Glow the Brick-kilns piping hot,
To bake the Clay trod under foot:
And yet by this his Dinner's got.
[19]Next Dullneſs' third and fav'rite Son,
Frigidio, bids the Verſe go on.
Frigidio fam'd, whoſe great Renown
Fame loudly, farts about the Town.
See, down i' th' Mouth, with Brow contracted,
With Head-ach and the Hip-diſtracted,
He ſits i' th' Dumps; ſo ruminating
As thoughtleſs Cows do when they're eating.
[20]For ah! and oh! in filthy Breeches,
An Egg; freſh laid, his Bum bewitches.
For what, O heav'nly Muſe! pray tell,
This ſhitten Curſe her Child befell.
So luck would have't, in evil Hour,
Smack'em, a wicked Son of a Whore,
Enter'd the darkſome Cave, and told 'em,
He'd make the Houſe too hot to hold 'em.
[21]Roar'd, curſt and ſwore, and play'd the Devil,
Still threatn'ing ſome approaching Evil.
Juſt then Frigidio's Blood ran cold,
And down his Guts loud Grumbles roll'd,
That ſome deſcending Evil ſpoke,
Which now (but who can help ill Luck!)
[22]He runs t'avoid. But ah! undone!
He finds the Cloſe-ſtool Refuge gone.
Amid the Fire behold it blazing,
To Cinders burnt. Ah! moſt amazing!
Now all his Fears behind burſt out,
And he beſmear'd, ſtinks all about:
As when Tom Turdman, on his Cart,
Poiſons the Night with filthy Art;
[23]At firſt we find the ſpicy Scent
Perfumes the Noſtrils violent;
Till the Air cleanſing by Degrees,
The gently dying Stink decays.
Thou Type of Curl! O fam'd Carnan!
Be thou the Safeguard of the Pan,
If any future Force attempt it;
And when 'tis full, take care to empt it,
Or dip thy Fingers in the Flood,
And paint and gild with native Mud.
[24]Until thy rubrick Poſt, ſo fine,
Shall like a ſhitten Barn-door ſhine.
But hark! what Noiſe is this I hear?
What elſe remains that's Worth my Care?
[25]A Crowd of Scribblers yon, in Limbo,
Like Oyſter Nymphs, with Arms a-kimbo,
Lunge with ſharp-pointed Pens, as cruel
As pale-fac'd Beaux do in a Duel.
Thoſe chiefly who of late, notorious
Knock'd under Smack'em's Arm inglorious,
Dunciadus, Entity, whoſe Name is
So univerſal, and ſo famous
[26]Thou Crocodile by Name and Nature,
The greateſt, and thou Woodville greater.
But who the Duce! marry and Amen!
Our Eaſtern venerable Bramin!
Old Father grey Beard's whiten'd Locks
'Mong Students, Diſputants, and Cooks.
[27]Muſe ſhut the Scene and drop the Curtain,
Or, even, I ſhall ſleep for certain.
Now is that mighty Work compleat,
That ſhould, on Braſs, be 'graven neat
Or printed on the Royal Sheet:
Where laſting Worth ſhall be admir'd
Till Maſters are with Flogging tir'd,
Then let no ſnarling Critic dream
A Trump'ry-Ballad is my Theme,
[28]Or call (becauſe they think they're wife)
This Fuſtian; me, a Fuſtianizer;
But if a Love for modern Verſe
Deſerve th' unluky Play'rs Curſe;
Or to be laugh'd at be its Merit.
Laugh and be pox'd, for I can bear it.
FINIS.
Notes
*
See Eulogium on the Welch Tongue. Cambria Book II. Line 20.
1

Line I. O thou, &c.] Our judicious and learned Author, Mrs. Midnight ſeems, at firſt ſetting out, to give us an Inſtance, that ſhe knows what ſhe is about, by this Imitation of the great Satyriſt Mr. Pope; in whoſe Dunciad are the following Lines addreſs'd to Swift, as are the above to Fielding.

O thou whatever Title pleaſe thine Ear,
Swift, Drapier, Bickerſtaff; or Gulliver.
2

Line 5. Apex excelſe! —high Top!] We never can enough admire this Inſtance of the ſuperexcellent Beauty of Expreſſion, made uſe of by our modern Poets; in endeavouring to make our Tongue ſo nearly reſemble that truly noble and elevated Language the Latin. Martina Scribeinda Macularia.

Line 7. Of Noſe obeſete-ſnotty Noſes This Epithet, which, as a compound one, is not a little to be commended, is yet more admirable, as it has its Derivation from the Latin; in which Language a judicious and witty Man is ſignified by a Man with his Noſe wip'd; and a Blockhead by a Fellow with a naſty or fat Noſe, according to our vulgar Phraſe a ſnotty one. Martina Scribelinda Macularia.

Line 11. Cull more Flowers—nor Roſemary cull] The Text is here extremely well expreſs'd in the Interpretation, as the ſo often repeated Thought of the Muſes gathering Flowers upon the Banks of the River Avon, for Shakeſpear, can certainly mean no more than the old faſhioned Cuſtom of gathering Roſemary for the Dead.—The Reader may find the above Thought in the Pleaſures of Imagination, alſo in a late Piece called the Roſciad and many others; whoſe Merit is a ſufficient Reaſon, I ſuppoſe, for its being inſerted here.

3

Line 16. When Auſtor its Euroclydon dilates] Mrs. Midnight is here openly indebted to the Author of the Roſciad, Line 58. We have before obſerved the Beauty of Latinizing our Language, we have in this Line a happy Inſtance of both Greek and Latin, without the leaſt Variation in the Idiom, becoming eaſy and flowing Engliſh, very intelligible to the meaneſt Reader, and notwithſtanding the Herd of Critics of low Taſte, inveigh bitterly againſt this Practice, and call it a baſtardiz'd Innovation of Dialect, I adviſe all, who would make any Figure in theſe Days, to lug in by the Ears all Manner of uncommon Phraſes and Epithets they can lay hold of, and ſubject them to their own Uſe as lawful Prizes. Margelina Scribelinda Macularia.

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Line 26. The meaner emulating Tribe above.] I cannot think Mrs. Midnight the Author of that ſurprizing Beauty in this Line, by the Poſition of the Prepoſition above, it ſeeming to me, that ſhe has borrowed the Hint from the celebrated Dr. Young, whoſe Elegances of that Kind are numerous; he ſays, if I miſtake not, Life is a Stage. ‘Inch high the Grave above—’

Line 28. Like Alps on Alps, &c] This and the following Line are taken from Cambria, where they ſeem to be the Effect, to uſe the Author's own Words, of a Regard for ‘A Land renown'd of old for nobelſt Deeds,’ For which Reaſon every Mountain muſt be the higheſt in the World, as he ſays

The Pyrenoeans, Appenine, and Alps,
With meaner Altitude invade the Skies,
Than Cambrian Mountains—

Now, it is not to be ſuppoſed that the Author has ever ſeen Italy, France or Spain; or that he has taken the Altitude of his own Country Hills with the Barometer—No,— Reader, there is a Figure in Rhetoric called the Hyperbole, by which a Man may aſſert what he knows nothing at all of, and tell as many Lies as he pleaſes—It is by this Figure, Reader, that Mrs. Midnight has ornamented her Poem by this Simile from the above famous Writer, for it is impoſſible ſhe ſhould know ſo little as to imagine the Alps, &c. ſtand in the ſame Compariſon below the Welch Mountains as the common Pariſh Churches do to St. Paul's—Margelina Seribelinda Macularia.

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Line 30. As antient as the Pen of Time] Endleſs have been the Diſputes that Mrs. Midnight has had with ſome Critics, to which ſhe has communicated this Deſign on this Paſſage —they aſſert that it is the firſt Time, Time ever was taken for an Author (as giving him a Pen ſeems to imitate he is) but that, on the contrary, they are a Set of People he has a mortal Averſion to; as they are Enemies to his Employment, by immortalizing thoſe very Perſons and Things he endeavours to eraſe—in anſwer to this, let them only ſee Cambria, Line 33. Book I. and be ſatisfied, from the Credit of that Author, of its Propriety; whoſe very Words ſhe has borrow'd, Margelina Scribelinda Macularia.

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Line 37. Th' illucid Lopſe, &c.] The Reader may obſerve how our Author has imitated the great Men of our own Day in five or ſix of the preceding Lines; in which ſhe has not an elegant Word but belongs to ſome of them. Nay, ſhe has even almoſt copied whole Lines from them, in particular, from Cambria; and the beautiful Expreſſion of the lucid Lapſe, from the Excurſion of Mr. Mallet—I am ſomewhat ſurprized, however, that Mrs. Midnight could condeſcend to imitate, in ſo unpoetical a Line as ‘There is a Cave faſt by this Houſe of Pray'r,’ a Writer of ſo little Credit in Point of Language as Milton; ſince it might have been modernized beautifully thus; ‘This Deme eretial near, a Cave exiſts.’ but there is no Work, as Mr. Pope ſays, without ſome Blemiſh,

Whoever thinks a faultleſs Piece to ſee
Thinks what ne'er was, nor is, nor e'er ſhall be.

it is therefore excuſeable if in a Poem, like this, ſo crammed with Beauties, there ſhould he found one Fault.

Line 39. The torpid Wretch] The Reader, to taſte the Beauty of this Picture, and come to a right Underſtanding of our Author, muſt turn to the Frontiſpiece of the Old Woman's Magazine,(a Work of which Notice has been taken in our Preface) where he will find the Pictures of Dullneſs and Poverty repreſented under the Characters of Mrs. Mary Midnight and her Conſederate Succubus Canidia—See Front to Old Wom. Mag. and Page 97. No. III.

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Line 40. By that Name, &c.] It is a Matter of no little Diſpute whether the Conſederate of Dullneſs ſhould be called Succubus Canidia —the Chriſtian Name, ſignifying a Devil in the Shape of an old Woman, and the Surname being taken from that of a Neapolitan Jezebel, whom Horace calls a Witch— the Query is (ſince we know the Figure repreſented is Poverty) whether Poverty can be juſtly called a Witch? Some have aſſerted, yes; becauſe Witches are always poor, and old. But this is conſuted by the learned and judicious Author of the Spectator, who ſays, that tho' Poverty and Age make Women ſuſpected of being Witches, it is, nevertheleſs, no Proof of their, being ſo. And as to Shakeſpear's repreſenting his Witches in this Manner, every Body knows his poetical Genius, never conſined himſelf to hiſtorical Truth. It is, in fine, ſo abſtruſe and intricate a Point, that tho' I have conſulted Glanville, Moreton and others, I muſt leave it to the Deciſion of abler Critics.

Line 42. In culmiferous, &c] The Propriety of theſe Epithets are admirable, and particularly conſonant to Horace's Rule— they ſeem to be borrow'd from Cambria, and are not a little a-kin to the Author of this Line

And tam'd the rough Ferocity of Men.
ROSCIAD.

here we ſee the Beauty of the latinized Engliſh, ſince it would elſe have been the rough Roughneſs, which would have been a very rough Expreſſion indeed. Martina Scribelinda Macularia.

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Line 48. In her better Hand.] Doubtleſs many People will wonder why the Left Hand ſhould be here expreſſed by the better, and will diſpute why one Hand is better than the other, but Mrs. Midnight has not wrote this without a Precedent, the Reader will find this ſame Epithet in the Roſciad, Ver. 69, to ſpecify the Right Hand, which ſhe has here given to the Left; admirably intimating that Dullneſs is Left-handed; or in other Terms, unlucky. Martina Scribelinda Macularia.

Line 51. Daily Lucubrations!] The Reader will do well to conſider, that as Dullneſs lives in a Cellar, it is no Wonder ſhe burns Candle in the Day-Time-beſide the Text ſays they are Thoughts her Owl inſpires: And who knows but her Owl may be in as bad a Situation as Mr. Smart, who wanted Light to ſee that it was dark, as a late Epigram intimates.—See Kapelion, No. 4. It is however, certain that all Authors have not the cleareſt Ideas of Day and Night—You will find in the Roſciad that at Night

—The lunar Queen
Shines forth with Splendor round the dimmer Day.

Line 51. —Thoughts prelaute] Doubtleſs the Critics, of a fine Ear for the Flow of Verſe, will be as much offended at the diſagreeable Sound (I might have ſaid Cacophony) of theſe two open Words coming together, as were the fine tympanum'd Gentry, in the Court of Anguſtus, againſt a certain Line in Virgil (which as I don't remember I muſt paſs over) but Mrs. Midnight has in this ſhewn her Reſpect for the Modernizes of Poetry—I will give you an Inſtance—A certain Writer, who ſtands much on his Merit in this Point, has uſed often theſe two Words together, natal Land. Now there is a ſurpriſing Harſhneſs in the two Els, and almoſt an Impoſſibility of pronouncing them both, without making a Stop between the Words—It is true, Mr. Rowe, with wonderful Sweetneſs, has uſed the Word native here ‘More than myſelf I prize my native Land.’

Here now is a ſoftening Syllable to harmonize the Strength of the preceding and following ones—but what of this? Native is a vulgar Word, and every Conſideration ſhould be given up for an Epithet obſolete or uncommon, as the abovementioned Refiner of plain Engliſh has ſhewn us, ſuch as, ‘Patriotic Worth—Treaty of Pacification,’ and numberleſs others—it muſt be owned—Patriot worth—Treaty of Peace, would be equally expreſſive, and a thouſand Times more elegant and beautiful; but, as that would be a common Way of Speech, the Dignity of the Language would have been degraded.

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Line 65. Steed pendent.] It is probable ſome of the witty Gentlemen, of the preſent Age, may laugh here, and accuſe the Author of Hibernianiſm and ſay it is only a mean Imitation of a Saying of the celebrated Barnaby Buxtm, who told an Acquaintance, he ſteed like a Man hanging in Chains: But, with Submiſſion to theſe facetious Critics, if they reflect upon the Situation of a Bird perched in a hanging Cage, it is poſſible they may reconcile this Paſſage to Engliſh.

Line 67. As'tween her Nods.] This is a true and lively Image of any Author who writes for Pay, whoſe Genius is never awake but when he is hungry.

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Line 72. How Ebenezer] Ebenezer Pentweazle, of Truro in the County of Cornwall, Eſq a celebrated Epigrammatiſt.

Line 73. Into bubonic Form.] The Metamorphoſis of Pentweazle into an Owl, is ſo admirably fancied, that I can't help preferring it to every thing I have met with in Ovid. The Similitude of an Author's being confined to Study in his, or his Bookſeller's, Garret, for Means of Livelihood, is prodigiouſly ſimilar to an Owl's perching on the Beam of a Barn, meditating on the Mice which ſhe is to have—if ſhe can catch them.

Line 76. Solertial, Smart.] This Paſſage bears ſome Diſpute; as it is queſtioned, by many, whether there ſhould be a Comma between theſe two Words—Some aſſert the former to be an Adjective, and the laſt a Subſtantive, and ſuſpect Mrs. Midnight of a Pun in Heroics; others will have the Comma ſtand, and aſſert they are hoth Adjectives. I have conſidered the Point very ſeriouſly and, finding ſo many Reaſons on both Sides, muſt leave it to the Deciſion of the Grammarians.

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Line 79. Woere in the Form of Vacuum.] It is likely many of our Brother Authors, eſpecially thoſe of the mathematical and philoſophical Turn, will very learnedly and wittily ask in what Form is the Form of nothing; however, I muſt confeſs, for my own part, that I think Mrs. Midnight goes, in this Place, as infinitely beyond herſelf as all other Authors have fallen ſhort of her—this is a very bold and caring Expreſſion, and is beyond Criticiſm itſelf; and whether the Writers of the preſent Day will allow the Beauty and Juſtice of this Paſſage or not; they have, undoubtedly, often experienced it: So that, I think, their Diſputes of the Exiſtence of a Vacuum in the Univerſe, would be better ſupplied by a Study to deſtroy the Vacuum they find in their Pockets.

Line 80. Golden, rhyming Thought.] Notwithſtanding Tom Brown has written a long and learned Diſſertation, in Praiſe of Poverty, and Mr. Moore an admirable Fable to prove that Want is ths greateſt Help to Genius; yet there are few, even Poets, I believe, but think the jingling of one Guinea againſt another, infinitely better Rhime than Pope, Gay or Moore ever wrote in their Lives, and would approve a Bank Note of an hundred Pounds, as the beſt Proſe they ever read. Nay, I believe, with a little Perſuaſion, Mr. R—t himſelf would be brought to accept it, notwithſtanding there ſhould be no hard Word in it.

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Line 94. Or he's pent.

Line 95. In Shape muſtelar.] This is the ſecond Time, in this Work, where a Pun may be ſuſpected—in the former Paſſage, I forbore to give my Judgment; but here, I muſt own, the Words point immediately to the Name Pentweazle; yet is not this Paſſage to be degraded, ſince it is only introducing a new and bold Figure called the Alluſ [...]la, which I would recommend to all the Refiners of Language whatever. Margelina Seribelinda Macularia.

Line 98. Cracks kernell'd Nuts] Some of our Readers may perhaps imagine here are meant Nuts with Kernels in them—to free them from that Miſtake, I beg Leave to aſſure them that Mrs. Midnight means Nuts without Kernels; as is expreſſed in the Interpretation: To come at the true and full Meaning of the Text, it is neceſſary we ſubjoin the following Advertiſement given out by the fictitious, &c. To make you all merry at Chriſtmas, and to open the New Year with Pleaſure and ſatisfaction, my Publiſher will exhibit on the 26th of this Inſtant, to all who are pleaſed to purchaſe the ſame, A moſt admirable, learned, and judicious Work intitled,

The NUT-CRACKER. Containing an agreeable Variety of well-ſeaſoned Jeſts, Epigrams, Epitaphs, &c. collected from the moſt Sprightly Wits of the preſent Age. Together with ſuch Inſtructions as will enable any Man to tell a Story with a good Grace, and crack a Nut without loſing the Kernel. With other Particulars equally uſeful and entertaining, and for which the gentle, kind, and courteous Reader, will be pleaſed to look into the Book itſelf. Publiſhed with the Approbation of the Learned in all Faculties, by Ferdinando Foot, Eſq

Now, Reader, theſe Nuts, here ſo bragged of, have been cracked before by Joe Miller, and the whole Tribe of Nut-crackers, who have been wiſe enough to ſecure the Kernels.

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Line 99. Or mumbles Grace 'twice o'er] The Reader will find the ſame Preface to the above Nut-cracker as to the Old Woman's Magazine: A Sign their own Wit is not very plenty.

Line 99. And grinning Shews] Mrs. Midnight here ſeems to point at ſome late Advertiſements, put out in her Name; by the fictitious Attempters to her Humour and Genius; which, as they are remarkable Inſtances of the Conſidence of theſe People, we ſhall give an Inſtance or two.

ADVERTISEMENT.

WHEREAS ſeveral egregious Ideots have been flinging Dirt at Mrs. Midnight and her Works. The Publick is deſired to take Notice, that there is now in the Preſs, and ſpeedily will be publiſhed, the Old Woman's Dunciad with Notes.

THE Gentleman who ſent five Guineas to be excuſed a Place, or, in other Words, to be left out of my Dunciad, is deſired to call at my Publiſher's and receive his Money; for, upon Enquiry, he appears to be ſuch an egregious Blockhead, and is in all Reſpects ſo fit for Celebration, and ſo worthy of publick Notice, that I can't prevail on myſelf to omit any Character which will afford my Friends ſuch high Entertainment.

The Reader is here deſired to recollect, or: turn back to the Preface.

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Line 106. Into a Monedule turn'd] Whoever has the Honour of knowing this learned and ingenious Gentleman will ſee a great deal of Prepriety in his being converted to a Jack-daw; as his natural Gift of chattering might probably inſpire Dullneſs with that Intention. We are, however, ſerry this Misfortune ſhould happen to him before the finiſhing of the Tragedy he is engaged in as a Work of Nature requires undoubtedly a great deal of Solidity.

Line 107. Roſtrate th' ingenial Cloac] This is admirably natural, and peculiarly adapted to the Nature of a Jackdaw, who is pecking among all the Filth and Rubbiſh he comes near.

Line 111. Domes too dearly bought!] The Gentleman, who is the Owner of theſe Caſtles, and employs this mighty Builder, complains very much of the Charges he is at in erecting them. Margelina, &c.

Line 112, &c.] —Where Art ne'er pil'd The ſculptur'd Stone, nor glow'd enflaming Kilns To denſe the conculcated Clay. CAMBRIA.

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Line 117. Frigidio calls my Song.] A Perſonage who needs no Celebration from any other Pen than his own.

Line 118. Feme's loud retrovert.] Many of our Readers will perhaps think this Sentiment rather ludicrous than momentary; but it is ſeldom, very ſeldom that our Author writes without a Meaning, though it is poſſible an ordinary Genius may be at a Loſs to find it out, I preſume, by Fame's proclaiming the Name of this Gentleman backwards, is intended the Pains and Trouble he himſelf takes to tell People he is a great Man, which is undoubtedly the reverſe Way to Fame.

Line 121. Manducating Thoughts.] Here is not a little Beauty in this Expreſſion, which it is probable the Reader, of little Penetration, will ſuffer to eſcape him—chewing Thoughts—intimating hereby that this Author chews his Sentiments ſo long that they come from him, with all the Sweetneſs ſucked out of them like dried Sticks.

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Line 122. In vaccal Rumination]. Here ſeems to be a very extraordinary Meaning couched under the Epithet vaccal—ruminating like a C [...]w—It is a Queſtion well wertly the study and Deciſion of our candid Diſputants and free Enquirers in what Manner Cows may be ſaid to ruminate; or how for thoſe Ideas may comprehend; or whether they are in a Capacity of entertaining complex or only ſimple Ideas—for my own Part, as I never imagined a Cow, chewing the Cud, a Picture of Reflection, ſo I never gave myſelf the Trouble to ask any one what ſhe was thinking of. I imagine our Author, Mrs. Midnight, is indebted for this Thought to a late Work, where is this Paſſage.

Stretch'd in the Clover Ditch, ſaint-lowing Herds
Couch ruminant.

You ſee, from hence, that the Sentiment is however a very good one: But perhaps this Gentleman, as well as Mrs. Midnight, might be acquainted with ſome Cow of Genius, and therefore have done this Honour to their Species.

Line 129. Smack'em. &c.] The Reader will be better acquainted with this celebrated Perſonage by peruſing the following Advertiſement. The MAGAZINES blown up; or they are all in the Suds. Being a full, true, and particular Account of the apprehending, ſeizing and taking of the notified Pentweazle, an Oxford Scholar, in the Shape of an Old Woman: With his Examination before the right worſhipful juſtice Banter, and his Commitment to the New Priſon. Together with an Account of his Impeachment of divers others, who were concerned in many late barbarous Attempts on the Senſes of his Majeſty's liege Subjects.—With a right and true Liſt of all their Names, who were taken, laſt Night, at a Houſe of ill Fame near St. Paul's—With their whole Examination and Commitment by the ſaid Gentleman. To which is added, a Key to the Back-Door. The whole done in plain Engliſh, by Whacum Smack'em, the greateſt Satiriſt now living;

Who can deep Myſteries unriddle,
As eaſily as thread a Needle.
HUDIBRAS.

at ſo ſmall and eaſy a Charge as Three-Pence.

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Line 131. Verboſe Stentorian, &c.] Taken from the Roſciad,

Conſus'd, Stentorian Execrations big
With Fate portentous and cerrifick Wrath.
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Line 138. The Laſanon's no more.] The Reader will eaſily comprehend this Paſſage, by turning to the Frontiſpieces of the Old Waman's Magazine and the Magazines blown up, in the firſt of which the Jakes of Genius is placed near the Goddeſs Dullneſs, and in the laſt it is blazing on the Fire.

Line 140. Dire Amazement! ab!] Nothing can add more to the Dignity of Verſe then the frequent Uſe of the Ecpheneſis or Exclamation—it being a Privilege peculiar to Poetry, which renders ordinary Affairs, or thoſe of no Conſequence at all, Matters of the greateſt Moment. Thus, a modern Author, introducing a Sentiment as common as that of one Day paſſeth away, and another cometh, beautifully exclaims, — Dire Amazement! ah! Is that ſmall Mart, is Newport all the Spoil Of glorious Iſca?

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Line 149. And in Euthanaſy the Stench decays.] In the Roſciad, the Author, deſcribing the Decreaſe of the Wind, ſays ‘And in Euthanaſy the Breeze decays.’ It may here be obſerved how far the Poets of the preſent Day exceed, in point of Stile, all that ever went before them; and how ignorant, in the true Beauties of Expreſſion, were the moſt celebrated Critics of Yeſterday— Says Mr. Pope,

Words are like Leaves, and where they moſt abound,
Much Fruit of Senſe beneath is rarely found.

Again,

Such labour'd Nothings in ſo ſtrange a Stile,
Amaze th' unlearn'd, and make the learned ſmile.

And again he ſays,

'Tis not enough, no Harſhneſs gives Offence,
The Sound muſt ſeem an Echo to the Senſe.

Now how foreign is the Sound of the Word Euthanaſy to its Meaning, a gentle dying— And yet the Beauty and Propriety of this Word, as it derives from the Greek, is beyond all Doubt. Margelina Scribelinda Macularia.

Line 150. O fam'd Carnan.] T. Carnan not the true and genuine Theophilus Carnan, Mrs. Midnight's only Bookſeller.

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Line 155. It beam refulgent] Notwithſtanding the numerous Excellencies already exemplified in this Poem, I cannot help preferring this Paſſage to any other—Here, Reader, is the Elegance and the Art of a Poet; to make a Sentiment which is, in it ſelſ, mean and deſpicable equal to the moſt refined and ſublime—Here is a Specimen of true Wit,

—Nature to Adventage dreſt,
What oft' was thought but ne'er ſo well expreſs'd,

I imagine Mrs. Midnight has given this, as an Inſtance of that Power and Beauty of Language ſhe is Mistreſs of; which may not only ſerve to enlighten all who may write hereafter; but may alſo convince them of the ignorance of the beſt of our Predeceſſors in this Point—ſays Mr.Pope, A vile Conceit, in pompous Words expreſt, Is like a Clown in regal Purple dreſt. An undeniable Proof of the injudicicus Taſte of this Author, in ſo material a Point!— and how widely does he miſtake the Truth of the Matter, in ſaying,

—True Expreſſion, like th' unchanging Sun,
Clears and improves whate'er it ſhines upon,
It gilds all Objects, but it alters none.

Now, who does not ſee in the above Paſſage in the Text, that the Sentiment is ſo alter'd, that it is ſcarce diſcern'd to be the ſame. Who would imagine that, like Horreal Valve. It beam refulgent. Signified no more than it ſhines like a ſhitten Born Door: Or, as the Reader may recollect ſeveral of the preceeding Paſſages, that

—Nor glow inflaming Kilus
To dence the CONCULCATED Clay

Intimated nothing elſe than

Nor glow the Brick-kilns piping hot
To lake the Clay TROD UNDER FOOT.

To enumerate theſe Remarks would here be needleſs as this whole Work may be ſaid to be one continual Beauty of this Kind. Margelina Scribelinda Macularia.

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Line 160. Like the fam'd Naiads] See Fielding's Tom Jones, where he compares the Oyſter-Wenches to the Naiads. An Inſtance (as well as Mrs. Midnight's) of fine Writing.

Line 161. In monomachial War] Our Author ſeems here to have an Eye to a Paſſage in the Kapelion—See Archimagirus's Addreſs to his Cuſtomers; where he challenges his Brother Scribblers to fight them, Pen, Ink, and Paper, upon any Spot of Ground in England, and ſends them the Length of his Quills and the Price of his Paper, to ſhew he ſcorns to engage them at unequal Weapons.

Line 163.—Dunciadus thou] The Reader, for an Information concerning this Character, may turn to the Magazines blown up —Whimſey Banter ſays there, his Bookſeller's Sign is his Emblem, and that he is the Packhorſe of Authors. Another Evidence ſays, he is a Beaſt of Prey, and loves Carrion and bad Meat.

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Line 165. Thou greateſt Crocodile and greater yet.] A particular Deſcription of all theſe Characters may be found in the above mentioned Pamphlet—Doubtleſs the Critics will here fall foul upon Mrs. Midnight, and deſire to know if Crocodile is greateſt, how Woodville can be greater—but ſure, Gentlemen, it is impoſſible but you muſt have heard of the new Degree of Compariſon, founded on a bold Figure in Rhetorick and called the ſuper-ſuperLnive. —It is by this, that the celebrated Author of the ACTOR ſays that the Tragic Player requires fire in the greateſt Degree, but the Comic Player in a much g [...]ater. Margelina Scribelinda Macularia.

Line 167. Our caſtern BRAMIN]—It is preſum'd no Body is ignorant of the celebrated Author of the Oeconomy of Human Life, whoſe Name, coming from ſo great a Diſtance, has made the World not a little ſuſpicious of an Impoſture—The conteſt here pointed at, is that between the original Bramin and the Authors of ſecond Parts, Suppliments, &c. which Gentlemen are a Set of Writers, who, rather than go without a Dinner at all, are contented to take up with the Victuals half cold, after others have made a Meal, yet boaſt much of their Dining at the ſame Table.—It is, however, to be diſputed which has the moſt Right to the Name of a Profeſſor of Virtue and Philoſophy, the Bramin of Grubſtrect or the Bramin of PalMall.

Line 169. Magiriſt, Student, &c. —By the former of theſe is meant, Archimagirus Metaphoricus, Author of the Kapelion, a Work that requires no Celebration. By the Student, is hinted the Author of a Six-penny Pamphet, under that Name, publiſhed Monthly by the Aſſiſtance and Approbation of the two famous Univerſities OXFORD and CAMBRIDGE. A ſurprizing and wonderful Example of the vaſt and extenſive productions of thoſe two great Seminaries! both of which, we are told, are employed in the compoſing of this PAMPHLET of important Articles. What then may not the World expect from, their joint Aſſiſtance in ſo great a Work?

23

Line 172. Ev'n me to nod.—The Hermiſtics in this Poem I cannot help imputing to a wilful Neglect, which, however, would be unpardonable in a Work of leſs Merit than this Dunciad, Virgil's Aeneids and ſome others of equal Worth in this Day.

Line 173. Now is that Work, &c. Mrs. Midnight has clos'd this Poem with as much Confidence and as juſtly as the celebrated Ovid; whoſe Words are,

Jam opus exegi quod nec jovis ira, nec ignis,
Nec poterit ferrum, nec edax abolere vetuſtas

The following Lines to the End are borrow'd from the moſt modeſt Writer of the preſent Age

*
The Reader will no doubt much approve this Deſign of Printing the Interpretation to this Work, for the Sake of the Herd of Readers, who are void of a Taſte for the Sublime, tho' it was for a much greater End, which our celebrated Author intended it, and this was the extenſive Utility it would be of in our Academies, and in particular to the Students of our two Univerſities; as ſhe was very ſenſible this Work would be, as now being publiſhed it is, eſteem'd Claſſical; and as ſuch be put on the ſame ſooting with Hemer, Virgil, Ovid, &c. and be taught as a Pattern of Language in all the diſtinguiſh'd Schools in Europe. Martina Scribelinda Macularia.
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Citation Suggestion for this Object
TextGrid Repository (2020). TEI. 4357 The so much talk d of and expected old woman s Dunciad Or midwife s master piece By Mary Midnight With historical critical and explanatory notes by Margelina Scribelinda Macularia. University of Oxford Text Archive. . https://hdl.handle.net/21.T11991/0000-001A-57A4-9