Tylney Hall


Tylney Hall


The Clown, an indifferent scholar, painfully puzzles

out his written part, with a vexed brow, a sleepy

eye, and a most dogged mouth ; as rueful and for-

lorn a figure to expect quips and cranks from, as

the skull of poor Yorick. The very Fairies, delayed

in their aerial descent by some hitch in the ma-

chinery, hang dangling aloft with faces full of

terror and pain, while by frequent changes of pos-

ture, they hint to maternal anxiety, that their

darling little limbs are horribly cramped by sitting

on wooden clouds. The Sylphs scream from fright,

and Cupid whimpers with hunger. All is noise

and hubbub; for Pope's rule of optimism is re-

versed—Whatever is, is wrong. Nature stands on

her head instead of the clown, and capers and

throws summersets, till her phenomena are all

topsy-turvy. Skies fall, water will not find its

level, and the moon silvers the trees with a blood-

red light ; the thunder runs a race with the light-

ning and gets first. Unnatural connexions take

place amongst the scenery, and produce monsters.

A view of Regent Street, by new laws of attraction,


More magazines by this user
Similar magazines