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       Mundus Foppensis:
             OR, THE
          <DW2> Display'd.
              BEING
      The Ladies VINDICATION,

  In Answer to a late Pamphlet, Entituled,
      Mundus Muliebris: Or, The Ladies
       Dressing-Room Unlocked, _&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 haec aetas moribus apta meis.
  Non quia nunc terra lentum subducitur aurum
     Lectaque diverso littore Concha venit.
  Sed quia cultus adest, nec nostros mansit in Annos,
     Rusticitas Priscis illa superstes avis._

  _Ovid_ de Arte Amandi. _Lib. 3._

  _London,_ Printed for John Harris at the Harrow
              in the _Poultry_, 1691.




ADVERTISEMENT


There is newly published _The Present State of Europe_; or, _The
Historical and Political Mercury_: Giving an Account of all the publick
and private Occurrences that are most considerable in every Court, for
the Months of _August_ and _September_, 1690. With curious _Reflections_
upon every State. To be continued Monthly from the Original, published
at the _Hague_ by the Authority of the States of _Holland_ and
_West-Friesland_. Sold by John Harris at the Harrow in the _Poultrey_.

There is newly published _A plain Relation of the late Action at Sea_,
between the _English_ and _Dutch_, and the _French_ Fleets, from _June_
22th. to _July_ 5th. last: With _Reflections_ thereupon, and upon the
Present State of the Nation, _&c._

Written by the Author of the _Reflections upon the last Years
Occurrences_, &c. _London_, Printed for John Harris at the Harrow in the
_Poultrey_, Price 1 _s._




  THE
  PREFACE.


Ladies,

_In the Tacker together of Mundus Muliebris, 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_ _general Desire in Men,
that their Ladies should keep Home, and therefore it is but reasonable
they should make their Homes as delightful 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 it a
strange thing for the Roman Women 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 were 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 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
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
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 times, 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
         <DW2> 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:
  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 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.
  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 Cafes;
  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 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 _Septizonimum_, 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 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 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 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 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.
  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 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:
  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 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_, _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 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' 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 and 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 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 _Kings-Bench_ Tub,
  And vents the Froth of Brewers Bub:
  Where we will leave him melancholly,
  Bewailing Poverty, and Folly.




  A Short _Supplement_ to the _Fop-Dictionary_,
  so far as concerns the present Matter.



            _Adieu donce me Cheres._
  Farewell my dear Friends.

                    _Arroy._
  A Suit of Cloaths.

            _To adjust a Man's self._
  That is, to dress himself.

                    _Beau._
  A Masculine French Adjective, signifying fine but now naturaliz'd
  into _English_ to denote a sparkish dressing <DW2>.

                _Beaux Esprits._
  A Club of Wits, who call'd themselves so.

                  _Bachique._
  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.

                  _Chedreux._
  A Perriwig.

                  _Correct._
  The same as Carine.

                 _Deshabille._
  Undrest, or rather in a careless Dress.

                 _En Cavalier._
  Like a Gentleman.

                   _Esclat._
  Of Beauty, or the Lustre of Beauty.

                   _Eveille._
  I observ'd her more _Eveille_ than other Women;
  that is, more sprightly and airey.

                    _Equipt._
  That is, well furnish'd with Money and Cloaths.

              _Gaunte Bien Gaunte._
  Modish in his Gloves.

                    _Grossier._
  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.

                   _Orangers._
  The Term for Gloves scented with Oranges.

                   _Picards._
  Shoes in downright English.

                 _Pulvillio._
  Sweet Powder for the Hair.

                   _Rolls._
  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.

                  _Surtout._
  The great Coat which covers all.

  For the rest you are referr'd to the Dilucidations
  of the _Alsatian_ Squire.


                    FINIS.




Transcriber's notes:

Other editions of Ovid's 'de Arte Amandi' quoted on the title page use
the words 'terrae' for 'terra' and 'litore' for 'littore.' Those words are
presented here as printed. Spelling was not changed, except for 'thtng'
to 'thing' ... it is no new thing for Ladies ...





End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of Mundus Foppensis, by John Evelyn

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