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Updated: May 6, 2025
But stay; me thinks some Vizard-Mask I see Cast out her Lure from the mid Gallery: About her all the fluttering Sparks are rang'd; The Noise continues, though the Scene is chang'd: Now growling, sputt'ring, wauling, such a clutter! 'Tis just like Puss defendant in a Gutter. And again, in his Prologue to Southerne's The Disappointment , he has:
And indeed, though in the Ribbonds that were offer'd him, they might be almost equally Rough, yet in such slender Corpuscles as those of Colour, there may easily enough be Conceiv'd, not only a greater Closeness of Parts, or else Paucity of Protuberant Corpuscles, and the little extant Particles may be otherwise Figur'd, and Rang'd in the White than in the Black, but the Cavities may be much Deeper in the one than the other.
Whereas the French, who are later comers, have rang'd from Quebec Southward as far as the Mouth of Mississippi, in the bay of Mexico, and to the West almost as far as California, which is either way above 2,000 miles."
"Sound those pipes, they're in tune, and those bins are well fill'd; View that heap of old Hock in your rear; 'Yon bottles are Burgundy! mark how they're pil'd, Like artillery, tier over tier, My brave boys. "My cellar's my camp, and my soldiers my flasks, All gloriously rang'd in review; When I cast my eyes round, I consider my casks As kingdoms I've yet to subdue, My brave boys.
La Fontaine. Sometimes these dons patriotiques were collected by a band of Jacobins, at others regularly assessed by a Representative on mission; but on all occasions the aristocrats were most assiduous and most liberal: "Urg'd by th' imperious soldier's fierce command, "The groaning Greeks break up their golden caverns, "The accumulated wealth of toiling ages; . . . . . . . . "That wealth, too sacred for their country's use; "That wealth, too pleasing to be lost for freedom, "That wealth, which, granted to their weeping Prince, "Had rang'd embattled nations at their gates."
Train'd by nice art each flexile limb to wind, Their twinkling feet the measured maze entwined, Fleet as the wheel whose use the potter tries, When, twirl'd beneath his hand, its axle flies. Now all at once their graceful ranks combine, Each rang'd against the other, line with line.
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