Mundus Foppenſis:

Or, The
Fop Diſplay’d.

The Ladies Vindication,
In Anſwer to a late Pamphlet, Entituled, Mundus Muliebris: Or, The Ladies
Dreſſing-Room Unlock’d, &c.

In Burleſque.

Together with a ſhort Supplement
to the Fop-Dictionary: Compos’d for the
uſe of the Town-Beaus.

Priſca juvent alios; Ego me nunc denique natum, Gratulor hæc ætas moribus apta meis. Non quia nunc terra lentum ſubducitur aurum Lectaque diverſo littore Concha venit. Sed quia cultus adeſt; nec noſtres manſuit in Annos, Ruſticitas Priſcis illa ſuperſtes avis. Ovid de Arte Amandi. Lib. 3.

London, Printed for John Harris at the Harrow
in the Poultry, 16911691.



A2r (1)

The Preface.


In the Tacker together of Mundus Muliebus, As it was a very great Piece of ill Manners, to unlock your Dreſſing-Rooms without your Leave, ſo was it no leſs indecent in him to expoſe your Wardrobes to the World, eſpecially in ſuch a Rhapſody of Rhime Doggeril as looks much more like an Inventory than a Poem; however, he has only pilfer’d away the Names of your Varieties without doing ye any other Miſchief; for there is nothing to be found in all his Index, nor his Dictionary neither, but what becomes a Person of Quality to give, and a Perſon of Quality to receive; and indeed, conſidering how frail the mortal Eſtates of mortal Gentlemen are, it argues but a common Prudence in Ladies to take Advantage of the Kindneſs of their Admirers; to make Hay while the Sun ſhines; well knowing how often they are inveigl’d out of their Jointures upon all Occaſions: Beſides, it is a A2 gene- A2v general Deſire in Men, that their Ladies ſhould keep Home, and therefore it is but reaſonable they should make their Homes as delightfull as it is poſſible; and therefore this Bubble of an Inventory is not to be thought the Effect of general Repentance, among your Servants and Adorers, but the capricious Malice of ſome Person envious of the little Remunerations of your Kindneſſes for being disbandded from your Converſation; little indeed, conſidering the Rewards due to your Merits, otherwiſe it would be the greateſt Injuſtice upon Earth for the Men to think of reforming the Women before they reform themſelves, who are ten times worſe in all reſpects, as you will have ſufficient to retort upon them when you come by and by to the Matter.

But to ſhew that it is no new thing for Ladies to go gay and gaudy, we find in Ovid, that the Women made uſe of great variety of Colours for the Silks of which they made their Garments, of which the chiefeſt in requeſt among them were Azure, Sea-green, Saffron colour, Violet, Aſh colour, Roſe colour, Cheſnut, Almond Colour, with ſeveral others, as their Fancy thought fit to make choice; nor were they deny’d the Purple in Grain, overlaid with Pearl, or embroider’d with Gold: Nor was A3r was it a ſtrange thing for the Roman Woman to die their Hair Yellow, as an augmentation to their Beauty; nor did the ſeverity of the times at all oppoſe it, but rather allow’d it. Now, ſays Ovid, The Manner of dreſſing is not of one ſort, and therefore let every Lady chooſe what beſt becomes her; firſt conſulting her Looking-glaſs. And ſoon after, he confeſſes that there not more Leaves upon a large Oak, not ſo many Bees in Hybla, nor ſo many wild Beaſts ranging the Alps as he could number differences of dreſſing Ladies. He tells ye how Laodamia dreſt to ſet off a long Face. How Diana dreſt when ſhe went a Hunting: And how Iole was careleſsly dreſt when ſhe took Alcides Captive in the Dangles of her Treſſes: So that it is no ſuch new thing for the Women of this Age to deſire rich and ſplendid Ornaments. And why their Grandmothers, and Great Grandmothers confin’d themſelves to their Nuptial Kirtles, their Gowns and Petticoats that laſted ſo many Anniverſaries; their Virginals for Muſick, and their Spaniſh Pavans, and Sellingers Rounds for Recreation, after their long poring upon Tent-ſtitch, ’tis not a farthing Matter for our Ladies to enquire: ’Twas their Misfortune they knew no better; but becauſe they knew A3v knew no better, ’tis no Argument that our Ladies ſhould be ty’d to their obſolete Examples: For the Alterations of Times and Cuſtoms alter the Humors and Faſhions of an Age, and change the whole Frame of Converſation. Juno is by the Poets trick’d up in Veſtments embroidered with all the Colours of the Peacocks; and no queſtion the Poets ſpoke with Relation to the Gallantry of the Women of thoſe times. And who ſo gaudy as Madam Iris in the Skie, and therefore ſaid to be chief Maid of Honour to Jupiter’s Wife. I could give ye an Account of the Habits of Venus, and the Graces, which the Poets adapting to the Modes of thoſe Times, plainly demonſtrates, that the Ladies were no leſs curious in thoſe days than now.

So then, Ladies, for your comfort be it ſpoken, here’s only a Great Cry and little Wool; while the Unlocker of your Dreſſing-Rooms brings us a long Bedroll of hard Names to prove that you make uſe of a great deal of Variety to ſet forth and grace your Beauty, and render your Charms more unreſiſtable, and that you love to have your Cloſets ſplendidly and richly furniſh’d: Heavens be prais’d, he lays nothing Criminal to your Charge; but only puts ye in mind of a Chapter in Iſaiah, of which you A4r you are not bound to take much notice, in regard his miſtaking the 6. for the 3: may ſecure ye there is little heed to be given to his Divinity.

But on the other ſide it makes me mad to hear what the Devil of a Roman Satyr Juvenal ſpeaks of his own Sex; for tho’ he makes Women bad enough, he makes it an eaſier thing to meet with Prodigies and Monſters, than Men of Senſe and Vertue.

Should I behold in Rome, that Man, ſays he,

That were of ſpotleſs Fame, and Life unblam’d;

More than a Wonder it would be to me,

And I that Monſter would compare to damn’d:

Two-headed Boy, with double Members born,

Or Fiſh, by Plow turn’d up, where lately Corn

In fertile Acres grew; or Fole by Mule

Brought forth, as Heaven would Nature over-rule:

No leſs amaz’d, than if a ſtoney Showre

Should from the Skie upon the Pavement pour;

Or that ſome Swarm of Bees, aſcending higher

Than uſually, ſhould cluſter on the Temple Spire;

Or that ſome rapid and impetuous Stream,

Should roll into the Sea, all Bloud, or cream.

Heavens! how many Wonders do’s Juvenal make at the ſight of an Honeſt Man in his time; and yet when he has ſpoken as bad as he could of the A4v the Women, we find no ſuch ſevere Expreſſions of his upon the Female Sex. Now Ladies if good Men are ſo ſcarce, what need you care what Fools and bad Men ſay. ’Tis true it muſt be acknowledg’d a hard Cenſure upon Men; but it was a Man that ſaid it; and therefore it makes the better for the Feminine Gender. Well, Ladies, you may be pleaſ’d to make what uſe of it you think fit, as being that which will certainly defend ye againſt all the Picklocks of your Dreſſing-Rooms for the future; beſides the Liberty which Ovid, an Authentick Author, gives ye, to make uſe of what Dreſſes, what Ornaments, what Embelliſhments you pleaſe, according to the Mode and Practice of thoſe tmes, under one of the beſt Rulers of the Roman Empire, and far more antient than when your Grandmothers and Great Grandmothers ſpun Flax, and beſpittl’d their Fingers.

The B1r (1)

The Fop Diſplay’d;

Or, The Ladies Vindication: In Answer to The Ladies Dreſſing-Room Unlock’d, &c.

Fain wou’d I, Ladies, briefly know

How you have injur’d Bully Beau;

That he thus falls, with ſo much noiſe,

Upon your Trinkets, and your Toys?

Something was in’t; for I proteſt t’ ye:

He has moſt wonderfully dreſt ye:

Nor has his Wrath ſpar’d ye an inch,

To ſet ye out in Pedlars French;

And all his Readers to poſſeſs,

That Women conjure when they dreſs:

B Malici- B1v (2)

Malicious Beau-Deſign, to make

The Ladies Dreſſing-Room to ſpeak

Hard Words, unknown to all their Granſires;

The Language like of Necromancers.

Heavens! muſt Men ſtill be at th’ Mercies

Of new Medeas, and new Circes;

Not working by the fatal Powers

Of old inchanting Herbs and Flowers;

But by the Magick of their Garments,

Conſpiring to renew our Torments?

I’ll not believe the venomous Satyr,

It cannot be in Ladies Nature,

So amiable, ſweet, and active,

To Study Magical Attractive;

As if they wanted Help of Endor,

Their Graces more Divine to render.

Rather we think this Jargonry

Beyond the Skill of Doctor Dee:

Hell’s Preacher, Phlegyas, from below,

Call’d up, and houſ’d in carnal Beau;

With wicked Hells Enthuſiaſm,

Between each Sex to make a Chaſm;

For Virgil, never tax’d of Nonſenſe;

Nor yet provok’d, to injure Lady

Brings, B2r (3)

Brings in the ſame infernal Rabbi,

Among the Damn’d, diſturb’d in Conſcience;

And ſtirr’d with like Satyrick Rage,

Againſt the Females of that Age.

Ingratefull Rhimer! thus to vex

The more refin’d and lovely Sex,

By acting like officious Novice,

Informer in the Devil’s Crown-Office,

If we mayn’t rather take him for

Some buſie, bold Apparator,

In Satan’s Commons Court of Arches,

By his more Feminine Reſearches:

Tho’ what if many a tainted Whore

Tormented him before his hour,

’Twas mean Revenge, howe’er, to fall

On the whole Sex in general;

’Cauſe ’twas his ill luck ſtill to light

On Ware unſound, for want of Wit.

What if the Ladies will be brave,

Why may not they a Language have

To wrap their Trinkets up in Myſtery?

Since Men are much more blam’d in Hiſtory,

For tying up their Slipper peaks

With Silver Chains, that reach’d their Necks.

B2 Was’t B2v (4)

Was’t not, d’ye think, a pleaſant sight,

To ſee the ſmiling Surgeon ſlit

The ſwelling Figs, in Bum behind,

Caught by miſuſing of his Kind?

But Women, only for being quaint,

To ſignifie the Things they want

By proper Names, muſt be reproach’d,

For wanton, fooliſh, and debauch’d;

Yet Learning is no Crime to Ladies,

And Terms of Art are ſtill where Trade is.

Printers ſpeak Gibb’riſh at their Caſes;

And Weavers talk in unknown Phraſes;

And Blackſmith’s ’Prentice takes his Leſſons

From Arabick (to us) Expreſſions:

Why then mayn’t Ladies, in their Stations,

Uſe novel Names for novel Faſhions?

And is not Colbertine, God ſave us,

Much nearer far than Wevus mavus;

A ſort of Cant, with which the young

Corrupted once their Mother Tongue:

Is ſuch a Bumpkin Cant as that

Fit for an Age where only what

Is brisk and airy, new refin’d,

Exalts the Wit, and clears the mind?

No B3r (5)

No Ladies, no; go on your way;

Gay Cloaths require gay Words, we ſay.

When Art has trimm’d up Head-Attire,

Fit for a Nation to admire;

And Head and Ornament are well met,

Like Amazonian Plume and Helmet;

To call that by a vulgar Name,

Would be too mean, and th’Artiſt ſhame;

Call it a Septizonium, or Tiara;

Or what you pleaſe, that’s new and rare-a.

May not the Head, the Seat of Senſe,

Name it’s own Dreſs, without Offence?

The Roman Ladies, you are told,

Wore ſuch a Head-Attire of old;

And what if Juvenal were ſuch a Satyr,

The Roman Ladies to beſpatter;

Tell Juvenal, he was a Fool,

And muſt not think to England rule:

Why ſhould her Jewels move my Spleen;

Let her out-dazle Egypt’s Queen:

It ſhows that Gold the Pocket lines,

Where ſuch illuſtrious Glory ſhines;

And there’s a ſort of Pride becomes

The Pomp of Dreſs, as well as Rooms.

I would B3v (6)

I would not for the World be thought

To pick a hole in Ladies Coat;

Becauſe they make it their Delight,

To keep their Bodies trim and tite.

What though the Names be new, and ſuch

As borrow from the French and Dutch?

Or ſtrain’d from the Italian Idiom,

Rather from hence I take the Freedom,

To praiſe their Care, thus to enrich

And fructifie our barren Speech,

We owe to their Vocabulary,

That makes our Language full and airy,

Enlarging Meige’s Dictionary.

Where things want Names, Names muſt be had:

Shall Lady cry to Chamber-maid,

Bring me my Thing there, for my head;

My Thing there, quilted white and red;

My Thing there for my Wriſts and Neck;

’Tis ten to One the Maids miſtake;

Then Lady cries, The Devil take

Such curſed Sots; my tother Thing;

Then ſtead of Shoes, the Cuffs they bring.

’Slife――Lady crys, if I riſe up,

I’ll ſend thee to the Devil to ſup;

And B4r (7)

And thus, like Babel, in concluſion,

The Lady’s Cloſet’s all Confuſion;

When as if Ladies name the Things,

The Maid, whate’er ſhe bid her, brings;

Neither is Lady chaf’d with Anger,

Nor Bones of Maiden put in danger.

Sure then ’twas ſome ill-natur’d Beau,

To perſecute the Ladies ſo;

For peopling, of their own accords, Phillip’s Engliſh World of Words:

A Beau more cruel than the Goths,

Thus to deny the Women Cloaths:

As if to theirs the rich Additions

Were Heathen Rites, and Superſtitions;

Or elſe, as if from Picts deſcended,

He were with Women’s Cloaths offended;

And ſpite of cold, or heat of air,

He lov’d to ſee Dame Nature bare.

Their Shoes and Stays, he ſays, are tawdry,

Not fit to wear ’cauſe of th’Embroidry.

For Petticoats he’d have e’m bare-breech’d,

From India ’cauſe the Stuffs are far-fetch’d.

Their Points and Lace he damns to Hell;

Corruptions of the Common-Weal.

The B4v (8)

The vain Exceptions of Wiſeacres,

Fit to goe herd among the Quakers;

And talk to Maudlin, in cloſe Hood,

Things that themſelves ne’er underſtood.

Now let us then the Beau ſurvey,

Has he no Baubles to diſplay:

There’s firſt the Dango, and the Snake,

Thoſe Dildoes in the Nape of Neck;

That dangle down behind, to ſhew

Dimenſions of the Snake below

’Tis thick, and long: but pizzl’d at th’end,

And would be thought the Woman’s Friend:

Yet they who many times have try’d,

By Dango ſwear the Snake bely’d.

Then th’inſignificant Knee-Rowl,

A mere Whim-wham, upon my Soul;

For that ’twas never made, I fear,

To ſave the Maſter’s Knees at Prayer:

Which being worn o’th’ largeſt ſize,

That Man Rolls full, the Bully cries.

A Term of Art for Knees Concinnity,

Beyond the Senſe of School-Divinity.

What Beau himſelf would ſo unman,

To ride in ſcandalous Sedan?

A Car- C1r (9)

A Carriage only fit for Midwives,

That of their Burthens go to rid Wives;

Unleſs to hide, from Revelation,

Th’Adulterer’s haſte to Aſſignation.

What Dunces are our Tonſors grown,

Where’s their Gold Filings in an Amber Box,

To ſtrew upon their Maſters Locks,

And make ’em glitter in the Sun?

Sure Engliſh Beaus may out-vie Venus,

As well as Commodus, or Gallienus.

’Twas Goldilocks, my lovely Boy,

Made Agamemnon ruine Troy

I could produce ye Emperours

That ſate in Womens Dreſs whole hours,

Expos’d upon the publick Stage

Their Catamites, Wives by Marr’age.

Your old Trunk-hoſe are laid aſide,

For what-d’-ye-call-em’s Tail to hide;

So ſtrait and cloſe upon the Skin,

As onely made for Lady’s Eyne;

To ſee the ſhape of Thighs and Groin:

Hard caſe Priapus ſhould be ſo reſtrain’d,

That had whole Orchards at command.

C Yet C1v (10)

Yet theſe are Toys, in Men, more wiſe,

To Womens innocent Vanities.

While ſoft Sir Courtly Nice looks great,

With the unmortgag’d Rents of his Eſtate:

What is the Learning he adores,

But the Diſcourſe of Pimps and Whores?

She who can tye, with quainteſt Art,

The spruce Cravat-ſtring, wins his Heart;

Where that ſame Toy does not exactly ſit,

He’s not for common Converſation fit.

How is the Barber held Divine,

That can a Perriwig Carine!

Or elſe Correct it; which you pleaſe;

For theſe are Terms too, now-a-days,

Of modern Gallants to entice

The Barber to advance his Price:

For if a Barber be not dear,

He muſt not cover Coxcomb’s Ear.

Bleſs us! what’s there? ’tis ſomething walks,

A piece of Painting, and yet ſpeaks:

Hard Caſe to blame the Ladies Waſhes,

When Men are come to mend their Faces.

Yet ſome there are ſuch Women grown,

They cann’t be by their Faces known:

Some C2r (11)

Some wou’d be like the fair Adonis;

Some would be Hyacinthus Cronies;

And then they ſtudy wanton uſe

Of Spaniſh Red, and white Ceruſe;

The only Painters to the Life,

That ſeem with Natures ſelf at ſtrife;

As if she only the dead Colours laid,

But they the Picture perfect made.

What Zeuxis dare provoke theſe Elves,

That to out-doe him paint themſelves?

For tho’ the Birds his painted Grapes did crave,

Theſe paint and all Mankind deceive.

This ſure muſt ſpend a World of Morning,

More than the Ladies quick adorning;

They have found out a ſhorter way,

Not as before, to waſt the day;

They only comb, waſh hands and face,

And ſtreightway, with a comely Grace,

On the admired Helmet goes,

As ready rigg’d as their lac’d Shoes.

Far much more time Men trifling waſt,

E’er their ſoft Bodies can be dreſt;

The Looking-Glaſs hangs juſt before,

And each o’th’ Legs requires an hour:

C2 Now C2v (12)

Now thereby, Ladies, hangs a Tale,

A Story for your Cakes and Ale.

A certain Beau was lately dreſſing,

But ſure, e’er he had crav’d Heavens Bleſſing;

When in comes Friend, and finds him laid

In mournfull plight, upon his Bed.

Dear Tom, quoth he, ſuch a Miſchance

As ne’er befell the Foes of France;

Nay, I muſt tell thee, Fleury Battel

Was ne’er to Europe half ſo fatal;

For by I know not what ill luck,

My Glaſs this Morn fell down and broke

Upon my Shin, juſt in my Rolling;

Now is not this worth thy condoling?

See Stocking cut, and bloody Shin,

Beſides the Charge of healing Skin.

’Twas the only Kindneſs of my Fate,

It miſt the solid Piece, my Pate.

Ladies, this was ill luck, but you

Have much the worſer of the two;

The World is chang’d I know not how,

For Men kiſs Men, not Women now;

And your neglected Lips in vain,

Of ſmugling Jack, and Tom complain:

A moſt C3r (13)

A moſt unmanly naſty Trick,

One Man to lick the other’s Cheek;

And only what renews the ſhame

Of J. the firſt, and Buckingham:

He, true it is, his Wives Embraces fled

To ſlabber his lov’d Ganimede;

But to employ, thoſe Lips were made

For Women in Gomorrha’s Trade;

Beſpeaks the Reaſon ill deſign’d,

Of railing thus ’gainſt Woman-kind:

For who that loves as Nature teaches,

That had not rather kiſs the Breeches

Of Twenty Women, than to lick

The Briſtles of one Male dear Dick?

Now wait on Beau to his Alſatia,

A Place that loves no Dei Gratia;

Where the Undoers live, and Undone,

In London, ſeparate from London;

Where go but Three Yards from the ſtreet,

And you with a new Language meet:

Prig, Prigſter, Bubble, Caravan,

Pure Tackle, Buttock, Purest pure.

Sealers, Putts, Equipp, and Bolter;

Lug out, Scamper, rub and ſcowre.

Ready C3v (14)

Ready, Rhino, Coal, and Darby,

Meggs, and Smelts, and Hoggs, and Decus;

Tathers, Fambles, Tatts and Doctors,

Bowſy, Smoaky, Progg, and Cleare,

Bolter, Banter, Cut a ſhamm;

With more a great deal of the ſame.

Should Saffold make but half this Rattle,

When Maidens viſit his O-racle,

They’d take him for ſome Son of Cham,

Calling up Legion by his Name.

Add but to this the Flanty-Tant

Of Fopling Al-a-mode Gallant;

Why ſhould not Gris, or Jardine,

Be as well allow’d as Bien gaunte;

Cloaths is a paltry Word Ma foy;

But Grandeur in the French Arroy.

Trimming’s damn’d English, but le Graſs

Is that which muſt for Modiſh paſs. To call a Shoe a Shoe, is baſe,

Let the genteel Picards take Place.

Hang Perriwig, ’tis only fit

For Barbers Tongues that ne’er ſpoke Wit;

But if you’d be i’th’ Faſhion, chooſe

The far politer Term, Chedreux

What C4r (15)

What Clown is he that proudly moves,

With on his hands what we call Gloves?

No Friend, for more refin’d converſe

Will tell ye they are Orangers.

So ſtrangely does Pariſian Air

Change Engliſh Youth, that half a year

Makes ’em forget all Native Cuſtome,

To bring French Modes, and Gallic Luſt home;

Nothing will theſe Apoſtates pleaſe,

But Gallic Health, and French Diſeaſe.

In French their Quarrels, and their Fears,

Their Joys they publish, and their Cares;

In French they quarrel, and in French

Mon coeur, they cry, to paltry Wench.

Why then ſhould theſe Extravagants

Make ſuch Rhime-doggeril Complaints

Againſt the Ladies Dreſſing-Rooms,

And cloſets ſtor’d with rich Perfumes?

There’s nothing there but what becomes

The Plenty of a fair Eſtate:

Tho’ Chimney Furniture of Plate,

Tho’ Mortlake Tapeſtry, Damask-Bed;

Or Velvet all Embroidered;

Tho’ C4r (16)

Tho’ they affect a handſome ſtore,

Of part for State, of uſefull more;

They’re Glories not to be deny’d

To Women, ſtopping there their Pride;

For ſuch a Pride has nothing ill,

But only makes them more genteel.

Should Nature theſe fine Toys produce,

And Women be debarr’d the uſe?

Theſe are no Maſculine Delights;

Studies of Books for Men are ſights;

A Stable with good Horſes ſtor’d,

And Payment punctual to their Word:

Proportion theſe things to my Wiſhes,

Let Women take the Porcelan Diſhes;

The Toylet Plates gilt andemboſtand emboſt,

With all the reſt of little coſt:

Such ſmall Diffuſion feeds the Poor,

While Miſers hoard up all their ſtore.

Our Satyr then was one of thoſe

Who ne’er had Wealth at his diſpoſe;

Or being ſped to live in Plenty,

Poſted to find his Coffers empty;

Addicted all to ſport and Gaming,

And that ſame Vice not worth the naming;

Till D1r (2417)

Till deeply dipp’d in Uſ’rers Books,

And over-rid by Cheats and Rooks,

The Mint becomes his Sanctuary,

Where not of his paſt Errors weary,

But aged grown, and impotent,

Alike in Purſe and Codpiece ſpent,

He Cynic turns, in King’s-Bench Tub,

And vents the Froth of Brewers Bub:

Where we will leave him melancholly,

Bewailing Poverty, and Folly.

D A Sup- D1v

A Short Supplement to the Fop-Dictionary, ſo far as concerns the preſent Matter.

Adieu donce me Cheres
Farewell my dear Friends.
A Suit of Cloaths.
To adjuſt a Man’s ſelf
That is, to dreſs himſelf.
A Maſculine French Adjective, ſignifying fine; but now naturaliz’d into Engliſh to denote a ſparkiſh dreſſing Fop.
Beaux Eſprits
A Club of Wits, who call’d themſelves ſo.
A Drinking Song or Catch.
The Brilliant of Language
Sharpneſs and wittineſs of Expreſſion.
A Brandenburgh
A Morning Gown.
To Carine a Perriwig
That is, to order it.
A Perriwig.
The ſame as


Undreſt, or rather in a careleſs Dreſs.
En Cavalier
Like a Gentleman.
Of Beauty, or the Luſtre of Beauty.
I observ’d her more Eveille than other Women; that is, more ſprightly and airey.
That is, well furniſh’d with Money and Cloaths.
Gaunte Bient Gaunte
Modiſh in his Gloves.
The World is very Groſſier; that is, very dull, and ill bred.
Levee and Couchee
Is to attend a Gentleman at his riſing or going to Bed.
Le Graſs
The Furniture of a Suit.
The Term for Gloves ſcented with Oranges.
Shoes in downright Engliſh.
Sweet Powder for the Hair.
A ſort of Dreſs for the Knees, invented as ſome ſay by the Roman Catholicks, for the conveniency of Kneeling but others aſcribe the lucky Fancy to Coll. S----.
A Revoir
Till I ſee you again.
The great Coat which covers all.

For the reſt you are referr’d to the Dilucidations of the Alſatian Squire.




Books Printed for John Harris at the Harrow in the Poultry.