Breval, The Art of Dress

	Quantó rectius hoc, quàm tristi lædere versu
	Pantolabum scurram, Nomentanumque nepotem?
	Hor.
	To the British Toasts.°	beautiful women
	In Antient Times, before this Isle° was known,	Britain
	While Rome subdu’d the Continent alone;
	E’re Foreign Lords the British Kings control’d,
	Or the wild Native knew the Use of Gold,
5	Our simple Mothers (as old Authors write)
	Guiltless of Pride, in Dress took no Delight.
	Skins round their Middles negligently ty’d,
	Conceal’d what Nature prompted them to hide:
	Uncouthly daub’d° with Paint,° the rest was bare,	covered — makeup
10	And to their Feet reach’d down their length of Hair:
	They ask’d no Pin-Money, and us’d no Paste,
	Nor suffer’d Torture for a slender Waist,
	But learn’d betimes in Forests to pursue
	The flying Deer, and twang their Bows of Yew:
15	Intent on Rural Sports, defy’d the Spleen,
	Made homely Meals, and took no Drams between.
	Such artless° Nymphs,° (as Chronicles will show)	sincere — young ladies
	Were here in Vogue Two Thousand Years ago,
	Till Cæsar first debauch’d us into Vice,
20	And Maidenheads° began to bear a Price:	virginity
	Legions° of Trulls° then landed on the Shore,	crowds — prostitutes
	And Rome’s succeeding Lords sent over more:
	They cloath’d, and taught our Women how to please,
	And civiliz’d the Monsters by Degrees.

25	Her Woods and Lawns the Huntress now forsook,°	left
	To practise Airs° in ev’ry Chrystal Brook;	songs
	Worship’d the Cyprian Queen in Dian’s Stead,
	Ty’d on the Mantle,° and adorn’d her Head;	cloak
	To jaunty Steps reduc’d her antient Stride,
30	And laid the Quiver and the Darts° aside.	arrows
	Old Legislators strove, (but all in vain)
	To drive back Vanity beyond the Main;°	ocean
	And Druids bellow’d till their Lungs were sore,
	Alas! their Audience minded them no more;
35	For Men themselves were prettier Fellows grown,
	And licenc’d Female Follies by their own.

	Four Ages now, were Fashions at a stand,
	’Till Hengist seiz’d on this unguarded Land;
	With him Rowena (peerless Beauty) came,
40	(To Brute’s expiring Race a fatal Name!)
	She from the German Elbe, and Baltic Shore,
	Of Charms and Graces brought a deadly Store:
	On Vortigern’s soft Soul the Poyson wrought,
	And in the Syren’s Net the King was caught.
45	Hence the great Change ensu’d, ordain’d by Fate,
	Which turn’d this Empire to an Heptarch State;
	The Conquer’d Britons to their Alps withdrew,
	And Antient Habits soon gave way to New.

	Of all the Saxon Courts, which, bore the Bell,
50	For Beauty, Air, and Dress, no Records tell;
	For Lies, and Legends, only flourish’d then,
	(The stupid Labours of the Monkish Pen,)
	’Till valiant Egbert made the Crowns unite,
	And his Lay-Subjects first began to write.


55	Now follow’d some Luxurious Peaceful Reigns,
	’Till Time and Fate brought-in the Cruel Danes:
	In War and Bloodshed Ages pass’d away,
	Whilst these prevail’d by Turns, and lost the Day;
	At last on England’s long contested Throne
60	Canute the Fierce, sat undisturb’d alone;
	Him, Emma charm’d, who Beautiful as Good,
	Retriev’d the Glories of her Saxon Blood;
	And call’d the Graces back which left the Land,
	Whilst Fiends and Furies toss’d the flaming Brand
65	Now Ladies practic’d each Cosmetic Lore,
	As their great Grandames did in Days of Yore;
	Renew’d their antient Snares to ruin Man,
	Roll’d the bewitching Eye, and play’d the Fan.

	So when some Hurricane has ceas’d to rage,
70	And Seas and Winds no more their Battles wage;
	Th’ endanger’d Bark° which floated on the Main	boat
	With Canvas furl’d, and bore the Shock with Pain,
	Thro’ gentle Waves now cuts her easy way,
	Spreads all her Sails, and lets her Streamers° play.	banners

75	Then our first Quixots us’d on Steeds° to prance,	horses
	Buckled in Mail,° and break th’ unweildy Lance;	armor
	For prudent Nymphs (and who can blame the Fair
	In chusing well, to take such early Care)
	Would put their Lovers on that bold Essay,°	attempt
80	To know their Strength before the Wedding Day.

	Much still there wanted to compleat our Dress,
	And Beaus and Belles were awkard with Excess,
	Till William brought his Norman Models o’er,
	Trunk-Hose, and Farthingals° unknown before.	hoop skirts
85	The Female Top-Knot us’d till then to rise
	A Gothic Structure, and a meer Disguise;
	Their Motion was untaught, the Work of Chance,
	And our Court-Minuet, but a Morrice-Dance.
	First in his Days appear’d in all its State
90	The splendid Toilette° cover’d o’er with Plate;	dressing table
	(Those fatal Boxes, which more Ills contain’d
	Than in Pandora’s e’er the Poets feign’d.)
	The polish’d Mirrour, (Emblem° of the Fair,	symbol
	Shining, yet Brittle) was erected there;
95	Combs, Patches, Paint,° had their allotted Place,	makeup
	And ev’ry Toy that gives the Sex° a Grace.	women

	Fam’d Rosamond, as Antient Ballads tell,
	Was passing° Fair, and Dress’d, exceeding well;	extremely
	Her Skin was Lilly-White, and Black as Jet;
100	Her Eye, transfixt the great Plantagenet:
	She first us’d Washes for the Neck and Face,
	And binding- Allom° for another Place.	astringent
	Malicious Fame reports her Hair was Red,
	And that she smooth’d it with a Comb of Lead;
105	Howe’er it was, the Monarch lik’d her so,
	He kept her where no Flesh alive could know,
	Till jealous Nell (O! Tale as sad as true!)
	Found out her Lodging by the fatal Clue.
	Nor should a Thousand more be left unsung,
110	Whom Story boasts as Beautiful and Young;
	Who grac’d our Edwards, and our Henries Days,
	For want° of Bards, depriv’d of half their Praise.	lack

	But Ah! to venture on such lofty Things,
	Beware my Muse, not trust thy feeble Wings.
115	O Prior, Congreve, Lansdowne, gentle Peer,
	And Addison so strong, and yet so clear;
	Yours be the Task, ye Swans of Silver hue,
	Who Soar so wondrous High, and Sing so true.

	When, and from whence the Ruff at first was brought
120	Long, but in vain have puz’ling Criticks sought.
	In after Times, some future Bentley’s Care,
	Shall gravely mark the Climate and the Year;
	Bentley (great Sage) who ne’er vouchsafes to write,
	But such important Matters come to Light.
125	Queen Kate of Austrian Blood, Demure and Wise,
	Swell’d the stiff-Circle, to a larger Size,
	And wore it as was then the Spanish Mode,
	For Female Shoulders thought too great a Load.
	Some Winters pass’d, and then Eliza sway’d,
130	Sworn Enemy to Rome, a wondrous Maid!
	She turn’d out Popish° Modes, but kept in That,	Catholic
	And introduc’d besides, the Steeple-Hat;
	Fenc’d the huge Petticoat with Ribs of Whale,
	And arm’d our Mothers in the circling Mail.
135	Such have I seen in Cecil’s Antient Hall,
	His Kindred Beauties rang’d along the Wall;
	By some great Pencil° to the Life express’d,	paintbrush
	And in that Ages Form precisely Dress’d.
	O! charming Salisbury, of Tufton’s Race,
140	Thou Soul Celestial, with an Angel’s Face,
	Could the long Order of the sleeping Fair,
	Freed from Death’s Chain, once more breathe Vital Air,
	With Envy would they Blush, with Rage to See,
	Their Fashions foils to Thine; themselves to Thee.

145	Our next unhappy Stuarts pav’d the Way,
	For Caledonian Dames to come in play;
	Beauties that shifted hardly once a Week,
	For Cleanliness, alas; to them was Greek!
	Now follow’d Canting° Puritans in Shoals,°	talking nonsense — crowds
150	Who spoil’d our Bodies, as they damn’d our Souls;
	Of ev’ry Ornament they strip’d the Fair,
	And hid their Bubbies° with Paternal Care;	breasts
	The Farthingal° and Ruff appear’d no more,	hoop-skirt
	And Ribbons savour’d of the Scarlet Whore;
155	With sad Simplicity they fill’d the Land,
	Brought-in the Forehead-Cloth and formal-Band.
	In those Fanatic Times (the Learned say)
	Attempts were made to Preach the Smock away,
	For Smocks, so near the Flesh, were carnal, vain,
160	Too like the Surplice, and of course Profane;
	The Zealous Kirk° the godly Cause to Crown,	Presbyterian church
	Clean Linnen, and the Common Pray’r put down.

	O! had that Crew for England’s Bane design’d,
	Been to its Native North alone confin’d!
165	Annals might want, nor we our selves should know
	One Melancholy Scene of Royal Woe;
	Wild Anarchy had kept beyond the Main,
	With all her Viper-Brood, and Bestial Train,
	Nor had our State been lost, nor hapless Charles been slain.

170	But lo, the Sun breaks thro’ the dismal Gloom,
	The Second Charles fills up th’ Usurper’s Room,
	Unnumber’d Beauties flock from ev’ry Part,
	And aim their Glances at their Master’s Heart.
	The noisy Hypocrite no more was fear’d,
175	But Mantuas, Pendants, and Commodes appear’d;
	In all his wonted Flames the Lover burn’d,
	And Sylphs long Banish’d to their Charge return’d
	Sackvile and Wilmot then sat Censors here,
	Kind to the Sex,° but to its Faults severe;	women
180	Such Satire flow’d from their abounding Store,
	Tho’ France did much, their Pens refin’d us more.
	Fools, and Coquets, the Muse Impartial hit,
	The false Pretenders both to Airs and Wit;
	Hence Woman still improv’d, whilst ev’ry Moon
185	With some New Mode produc’d a new Lampoon.°	personal attack
	Succeeding Beauties made the Former less,
	Their Dishabille excell’d their Mother’s Dress.

	In Anna’s Days at last the Point was gain’d,
	To Fashion’s highest Pitch our Belles attain’d;
190	From France they came, and many a Foreign Shore,
	To learn Our Arts, who taught us Theirs before.

	Love’s Goddess now the Furbeloe° displays,	flounce
	Invents the Flounces, and Reforms the Stays;
	Her Handmaid Sisters leave their old Abodes,
195	And make this Town Metropolis of Modes.
	By Faction guided, Ladies patch° the Face,	apply false birthmarks
	And to the Watch now add the Twezer Case.

	White Breasts, and Shoulders bare, invade the Eye,
	And Legs, no more conceal’d, our Jests defy,
200	Those pretty Legs so Taper, and so Smart,
	By which Men guess at ev’ry other Part.
	The Petticoat remain’d a Point in doubt
	Till Wren was forc’d to help our Beauties out;
	A Roman Cupola he show’d in Print,
205	And thence of Modern Hoops, they took the hint;
	The vast Circumference gives Air below,
	At large they tread, and more Majestic show:
	Thro’ Lanes of ravish’d Beaus the Wonders pass,
	And Names of Toasts° are Cut on conscious Glass.	attractive women

210	To You, fair Virgin Throng, with Myrtle crown’d
	Our Bumpers° fill’d with gen’rous Wine go round;	glasses
	For You, th’ Italian Worm her Silk prepares,
	And distant India sends her choicest Wares;
	Some Toy from ev’ry Part the Sailor brings,
215	The Sempstress labours, and the Poet sings.
	To Your bright Eyes I consecrate my Lays,
	Inspir’d and warm’d by Their Celestial Rays;
	Leave your Basset, your Sermons, and your Tea,
	And listen to the Rules prescrib’d by Me.

220	When, undisturb’d with Spleen,° you then design	bad temper
	At Court, the Play, or in the Ring to shine,
	Betimes,° O Nymphs! to your Toilettes° repair;	early — dressing tables
	And first let Betty Comb th’ Ambrosial Hair.

	Not all your Locks are equal in Renown,
225	Red yields to Fair, and Black excells the Brown;
	Some ask a plenteous Store of scented Grains;
	Some, none at all; and please with little Pains:
	Those, wanting° Order, scarce° endure the Test,	lacking — barely
	And These, in careless Favourites are best.
230	The brilliant Bodkin° often adds a Grace,	pin
	Or Jessamin sets off the blooming Face;
	But be not Bigots to such Toys° as these;	trinkets
	Approv’d to Day, to Morrow they displease.

	Much Ribbon was in Use in Days of Yore,
235	Of Ells° each Topknot had at least a Score,°	45 inches — 20
	Now Custom has retrench’d° that old Excess,	cut back on
	And fix’d on Female Brows a frugal Dress;
	For smart Lace’d-Mobbs now even sink below
	The frizled Foretop of a Modern Beau.°	fashionable man

240	Take, gentle Creatures, take a Friend’s Advice,
	In polishing your Teeth be wond’rous nice;°	careful
	For no Defect in these (should such be known)
	Ten Thousand other Graces will attone;
	Oft let the Brush it’s Morning Task repeat;
245	And shun at Boards° the too high-season’d Meat;	tables
	Ragouts, and luscious Soups, make Teeth decay,
	And op’ning Lips the tainted Breath betray;
	But ah! Your Paints° are worse; refrain from Those,	makeups
	Nor lose true Pearls to gain a borrow’d Rose.

250	Jewels, in which You take so great a Pride
	Are sometimes best (believe me) laid aside;
	Such Ornaments take up the dazled Eye,
	And make us pass your Charms unheeded by;
	Besides, what Value adds the shining Store,
255	When many a formal Cit,° perhaps, has more?	businessman
	If Cloe’s Features, and beginning Bloom,
	Surprize the Censors of the Drawing-Room;
	If just her Shape, her Air° be degagée,	bearing
	Her plain French Necklace is prefer’d by me.

260	The Teague-land Beau, with his Corinthian Face,
	Pursues Brocade,° and dies for Flanders Lace;	heavy cloth
	For this wise Maxim he has learn’d by rote,
	That richest Outsides, greatest Wealth denote.
	Less sordid We, but more refin’d of Taste
265	Esteem in Chints, or Crape, a charming Waist;
	Thro’ Streets full oft, by Callicoes are led,
	And Burn for Dashwood in a Muslin Head.

	’Tis no small Task the true Genteel to hit
	And shun the Censure of the Park or Pit;
270	Oft have I seen a Mantua pinn’d amiss°	improperly
	Make People sneer, and almost cause a Hiss:
	For Knots ill-fancy’d, or a taudry Gown
	Ill natur’d Criticks, cry the Woman down;
	With Prudes and Slatterns open War they wage,
275	And Ten to One, if either scapes the Stage.

	Four charming Sisters, were in Vogue of late,
	Long rule’d unrival’d the Cosmetic State;
	They nothing wore, but what was à propós,
	Nor could the World compleater Models show;
280	But cruel Death (ah, Monster, too unkind!)
	Has left but half that conqu’ring Race behind.

	Tho’ most condemn the Fair that’s over-nice,°	too fussy
	Too great Neglect is oft an equal Vice;
	Th’ establish’d Belle some Privilege may take,
285	Affect loose Airs; and counterfeit° the Rake;°	pretend to be — immoral man
	May lay the Necklace, and the Drops° aside,	diamond earrings
	Half comb her Locks, and all her Linnen hide;
	But no such License° is to Those allow’d,	freedom°
	Whose undistinguish’d Forms make up the Crowd.

290	How plain soe’er you Dress, be throughly clean,
	Nor let the Smock° be foul, because unseen;	underwear
	But chiefly You, that are to Plump inclin’d,
	And You, whose Hair is of the Carrot Kind.

	Be wond’rous tight about the Leg and Foot;
295	Those Parts neglected, soon betray the Slut:
	In chusing Stockings, shun the Vulgar Blue,
	And braid, as well as lace, the Damask Shoe,
	When you put on, to grace a solemn Day,
	Your best Attire, and ev’ry Charm display;
300	Each due Convenience for your Ease prepare:
	But most, ye Nymphs, of lacing-close, beware;
	Lest, by a Fit surpriz’d, you, swooning, fall,
	Disturb the Feast, or interrupt the Ball:
	Then the Breast heaves, the Blush the Cheek forsakes,
305	Till some kind Hand the Whalebone Prison breaks:
	Mean while, an Am’rous Youth may steal a Kiss;
	Or snatch, unfelt perhaps, a greater Bliss.

	I much approve, when Snowy Breasts are seen,
	Of Fragrant Sprigs the Nosegay° stuck between:	bouquet
310	The Scent and Object make us half despair,
	And ardent Lovers wish their Lips were there.

	When for the Morning Air abroad you steal,
	The Cloak of Camlet may your Charms conceal;
	The Cloak, in which a Noble Peer of late
315	Got off Incog.° and slily bilk’d° the State:	undetected — cheated
	That, with a Mask, is such a sure Disguise,
	’Twould cheat an Argus,° or a Spaniard’s Eyes.	hundred-eyed god

	Thus whilst with Artless° Hand I touch the String,	untutored
	And trace our Fashions to their Ancient Spring;
320	For Berk’ley’s Loss, with Song divert my Care,
	And call the Beauteous Crowd to lend an Ear;
	Vouchsafe, Auspicious on the Muse to shine,
	Supreme of Nymphs, O Matchless Caroline!
	So, may those Graces (who, deriv’d from Thee,
325	Of Future Bards the Glorious Theme shall be)
	When Time has ripen’d all Their growing Charms,
	And Form’d each Princess for a Monarch’s Arms;
	Their People’s Hearts, as Thou dost Thine possess,
	And Learn from Thee to Govern, and to Dress.

The Art of Dress:
A Poem.

By John Breval

Edited by Jack Lynch

To the British Toasts.°

Notes

The Art of Dress: A Poem.

By John Breval

Edited by Jack Lynch

To the British Toasts.°

Notes

The Art of Dress:
A Poem.