The Lady’s Dressing Room

Jonathan Swift

1732

Edited by Jack Lynch

	Five Hours, (and who can do it less in?)
	By haughty Celia spent in Dressing;
	The Goddess from her Chamber issues,
	Array’d° in Lace, Brocades and Tissues.	decked out

5	Strephon, who found the Room was void,
	And Betty° otherwise employ’d;	maidservant’s name
	Stole° in, and took a strict Survey,	sneaked
	Of all the Litter as it lay;
	Whereof, to make the Matter clear,
10	An Inventory follows here.

	And first a dirty Smock° appear’d,	underwear
	Beneath the Arm-pits well besmear’d.
	Strephon, the Rogue, display’d it wide,
	And turn’d it round on every Side.
15	On such a Point few Words are best,
	And Strephon bids us guess the rest;
	But swears how damnably the Men lie,
	In calling Celia sweet and cleanly.
	Now listen while he next produces,
20	The various Combs for various Uses,
	Fill’d up with Dirt so closely fixt,
	No Brush could force a way betwixt.°	between
	A Paste of Composition rare,
	Sweat, Dandriff, Powder, Lead and Hair;	lead was used as a cosmetic
25	A Forehead Cloth with Oyl upon’t
	To smooth the Wrinkles on her Front;°	forehead
	Here Allum Flower° to stop the Steams,	antiperspirant powder
	Exhal’d from sour unsavoury Streams,
	There Night-gloves made of Tripsy’s° Hide,	lapdog’s name
30	Bequeath’d by Tripsy when she dy’d,
	With Puppy Water,° Beauty’s Help	moisturizer made from dead puppies
	Distill’d from Tripsy’s darling Whelp;°	puppy
	Here Gallypots° and Vials plac’d,	jars
	Some fill’d with washes, some with Paste,
35	Some with Pomatum,° Paints and Slops,	hair cream
	And Ointments good for scabby Chops.
	Hard by° a filthy Bason stands,	nearby
	Fowl’d with the Scouring of her Hands;
	The Bason takes whatever comes
40	The Scrapings of her Teeth and Gums,
	A nasty Compound of all Hues,
	For here she spits, and here she spues.°	spews
	But oh! it turn’d poor Strephon’s Bowels,
	When he beheld and smelt the Towels,
45	Begumm’d, bematter’d, and beslim’d
	With Dirt, and Sweat, and Ear-Wax grim’d.
	No Object Strephon’s Eye escapes,
	Here Pettycoats° in frowzy° Heaps;	underwear — messy
	Nor be the Handkerchiefs forgot
50	All varnish’d o’er with Snuff and Snot.
	The Stockings, why shou’d I expose,
	Stain’d with the Marks of stinking Toes;
	Or greasy Coifs and Pinners° reeking,	night caps
	Which Celia slept at least a Week in?
55	A Pair of Tweezers next he found
	To pluck her Brows in Arches round,
	Or Hairs that sink the Forehead low,
	Or on her Chin like Bristles grow.

	The Virtues we must not let pass,
60	Of Celia’s magnifying Glass.°	mirror
	When frighted Strephon cast his Eye on’t
	It shew’d the Visage° of a Gyant.	face
	A Glass that can to Sight disclose,
	The smallest Worm in Celia’s Nose,
65	And faithfully direct her Nail
	To squeeze it out from Head to Tail;
	For catch it nicely by the Head,
	It must come out alive or dead.

	Why Strephon will you tell the rest?
70	And must you needs° describe the Chest?	do you have to
	That careless Wench! no Creature warn her
	To move it out from yonder Corner;
	But leave it standing full in Sight
	For you to exercise your Spight.
75	In vain, the Workman shew’d his Wit
	With Rings and Hinges counterfeit
	To make it seem in this Disguise,
	A Cabinet to vulgar° Eyes;	common
	For Strephon ventur’d to look in,
80	Resolv’d to go thro’ thick and thin;
	He lifts the Lid, there needs no more,
	He smelt it all the Time before.
	As from within Pandora’s Box,	mythological source of all evils
	When Epimetheus op’d the Locks,
85	A sudden universal Crew
	Of humane Evils upwards flew;
	He still was comforted to find
	That Hope at last remain’d behind;
	So Strephon lifting up the Lid,
90	To view what in the Chest was hid.
	The Vapours flew from out the Vent,
	But Strephon cautious never meant
	The Bottom of the Pan to grope,
	And fowl his Hands in Search of Hope.
95	O never may such vile Machine°	device
	Be once in Celia’s Chamber seen!
	O may she better learn to keep
	“Those Secrets of the hoary deep!”

	As Mutton Cutlets, Prime of Meat,
100	Which tho’ with Art° you salt and beat,	skill
	As Laws of Cookery require,
	And toast them at the clearest Fire;
	If from adown the hopeful Chops
	The Fat upon a Cinder drops,
105	To stinking Smoak it turns the Flame
	Pois’ning the Flesh from whence it came;
	And up exhales a greasy Stench,
	For which you curse the careless Wench;
	So Things, which must not be exprest,
110	When plumpt° into the reeking Chest;	dropped
	Send up an excremental Smell
	To taint the Parts from whence they fell.
	The Pettycoats and Gown perfume,
	Which waft a Stink round every Room.

115	Thus finishing his grand Survey,
	Disgusted Strephon stole° away	sneaked
	Repeating in his amorous Fits,
	Oh! Celia, Celia, Celia shits!

	But Vengeance, Goddess never sleeping
120	Soon punish’d Strephon for his Peeping;
	His foul Imagination links
	Each Dame he sees with all her Stinks:
	And, if unsav’ry° Odours fly,	disgusting
	Conceives° a Lady standing by:	imagines
125	All Women his Description fits,
	And both Idea’s jump like Wits:
	By vicious Fancy° coupled fast,	imagination
	And still appearing in Contrast.
	I pity wretched Strephon blind
130	To all the Charms of Female Kind;
	Should I the Queen of Love refuse,
	Because she rose from stinking Ooze?
	To him that looks behind the Scene,
	Statira’s but some pocky Quean.°	diseased slut
135	When Celia in her Glory shows,
	If Strephon would but stop his Nose;
	(Who now so impiously blasphemes
	Her Ointments, Daubs, and Paints and Creams,
	Her Washes, Slops, and every Clout,°	rag
140	With which he makes so foul a Rout;)
	He soon would learn to think like me,
	And bless his ravisht° Sight to see	carried away
	Such Order from Confusion sprung,
	Such gaudy Tulips rais’d from Dung.

The Lady’s Dressing Room

Jonathan Swift

1732

Edited by Jack Lynch

Notes