Here, in this view, a thousand diff’rent ways There are, to raise Men’s wonder, and to please: Some satisfy with gaudy Cloaths their Pride, And some in Stuffs so in a Coach will ride; Such diff’rent things our Inclination guide, No Hunger pinches, when prepared with Pride. Six Days the Niggard shall his Carcass pine, That on the seventh he may nobly dine. Th’ ambitious Fair aspiring to be Great, Shall for these Ends, refuse to drink or eat, So that on _Sunday_ they be sure to bring A handsome Equipage to make the _Ring_. Others there are, rather than not appear, Will hire a Chariot fifty times a year; Good natur’d Madam strip her Petticoat To make her Coachman fine in a Surtoot; Tho’ in a Garret laid, and homely Bed, The Coach and Horses still run in her Head. Those quell the Vapours, and those stagnant Fumes, Which, as ’tis said, for want of Motion comes; For Hippo will in some so strongly fix It can’t be cur’d without a Coach and six; Whose swift career whirls with such force about, It drives gymnastickly the Vapour out; * * * * * Seldom to Park the good-natured Ninny drives, But pleads, thus must we do to please our Wives. * * * * * Here Heads ’gainst Heads are drawn up in Array, When careless Negligence shall win the Day; Hoods against Hoods, and Ribbons singly prove The Colour which conduces most to love; Ev’n Handkerchiefs are Ensigns now of War, At once attract our Eyes, and guard the Fair, Thus glitt’ring Ornaments most deeply wound, And dart us thro’, as hurry’d swiftly round. Just like the heated Wheels, the Heart grows warm, And struggling Nature sucks in ev’ry Charm; Lab’ring for Breath, instead of cooling Air, We draw in Poyson, cast out by the Fair. * * * * * Lady Mary Wortley Montagu, herself a constant visitor to the Park, writing to her future husband a couple of years later, refers to the same scene: “... all the fine equipages that shine in the Ring, never gave me another thought than either pity or contempt for the owners, that could place happiness in attracting the eye of strangers.”