Pope first published his mock-epic Dunciad in three "books" in 1728. In the following year, he released a new version, the Dunciad Variorum, including long mock-scholarly prefaces by “Martinus Scriblerus” and endless pedantic notes falsely attributed to his enemies. (Pope pretends the poem is an ancient epic that needs a modern scholarly commentary.) In 1743 he published The New Dunciad, a fourth book, and in 1744 he republished the whole as The Dunciad in Four Books. The 1744 version is a thorough revision of the original poem in three books; among other things, the “hero” of the poem has been changed from Lewis Theobald to Colley Cibber (see notes to lines 20 and 532).
The Dunciad is a dense and demanding poem. Pope’s eighteenth-century poetic diction is challenging enough; even harder are the poem’s form, with its parody of pedantic scholarship, and its references to dozens of forgotten names. Jonathan Swift, to whom The Dunciad was dedicated, warned Pope that "twenty miles from London nobody understands hints, initial letters, or town facts and passages; and in a few years not even those who live in London.”
This is 1743 edition of book 4, including a selection of Pope’s notes from various editions (all attributed to him). My own notes don’t try to explain every reference and allusion, but to point out the more important facts and define the more difficult words. A few Greek words have been transliterated.
ARGUMENT. |
||
The Poet being, in this Book, to declare the Completion of the Prophecies mention’d at the end of the former, makes a new Invocation; as the greater Poets are wont, when some high and worthy matter is to be sung. He shews the Goddess coming in her Majesty, to destroy Order and Science, and to substitute the Kingdom of the Dull upon earth. How she leads captive the Sciences, and silenceth the Muses; and what they be who succeed in their stead. All her Children, by a wonderful attraction, are drawn about her; and bear along with them divers others, who promote her Empire by connivance, weak resistance, or discouragement of Arts; such as Half-wits, tasteless Admirers, vain Pretenders, the Flatterers of Dunces, or the Patrons of them. All these crowd round her; one of them offering to approach her, is driven back by a Rival, but she commends and encourages both. The first who speak in form are the Genius’s of the Schools, who assure her of their care to advance her Cause, by confining Youth to Words, and keeping them out of the way of real Knowledge. Their Address, and her gracious Answer; with her Charge to them and the Universities. The Universities appear by their proper Deputies, and assure her that the same method is observ’d in the progress of Education; The speech of Aristarchus on this subject. They are driven off by a band of young Gentlemen return’d from Travel with their Tutors; one of whom delivers to the Goddess, in a polite oration, an account of the whole Conduct and Fruits of their Travels: presenting to her at the same time a young Nobleman perfectly accomplished. She receives him graciously, and indues him with the happy quality of Want of Shame. She sees loitering about her a number of Indolent Persons abandoning all business and duty, and dying with laziness: To these approaches the Antiquary Annius, intreating her to make them Virtuosos, and assign them over to him: But Mummius, another Antiquary, complaining of his fraudulent proceeding, she finds a method to reconcile their difference. Then enter a Troop of people fantastically adorn’d, offering her strange and exotic presents: Amongst them, one stands forth and demands justice on another, who had deprived him of one of the greatest Curiosities in nature: but he justifies himself so well, that the Goddess gives them both her approbation. She recommends to them to find proper employment for the Indolents before-mentioned, in the study of Butterflies, Shells, Birds-nests, Moss, &c. but with particular caution, not to proceed beyond Trifles, to any useful or extensive views of Nature, or of the Author of Nature. Against the last of these apprehensions, she is secured by a hearty Address from the Minute Philosophers and Freethinkers, one of whom speaks in the name of the rest. The Youth thus instructed and principled, are delivered to her in a body, by the hands of Silenus; and then admitted to taste the Cup of the Magus her High Priest, which causes a total oblivion of all Obligations, divine, civil, moral, or rational. To these her Adepts she sends Priests, Attendants, and Comforters, of various kinds; confers on them Orders and Degrees; and then dismissing them with a speech, confirming to each his Privileges and telling what she expects from each, concludes with a Yawn of extraordinary virtue:° The Progress and Effects whereof on all Orders of men, and the Consummation of all, in the Restoration of Night and Chaos, conclude the Poem. |
virtue = power |
Yet, yet a moment, one dim Ray of Light | ||
Indulge, dread Chaos, and eternal Night! | ||
Of darkness visible so much be lent,2 | ||
As half to shew, half veil the deep Intent. | ||
5 | Ye Pow’rs! whose Mysteries restor’d I sing, | |
To whom Time bears me on his rapid wing, | ||
Suspend a while your Force inertly strong, | ||
Then take at once the Poet and the Song. | ||
Now flam’d the Dog-star’s unpropitious ray,3 | ||
10 | Smote ev’ry Brain, and wither’d ev’ry Bay;° | poet’s honor |
Sick was the Sun, the Owl forsook his bow’r,5 | ||
The moon-struck° Prophet felt the madding hour: | insane | |
Then rose the Seed of Chaos, and of Night, | ||
To blot out Order, and extinguish Light, | ||
15 | Of dull and venal a new World to mold, | |
And bring Saturnian days of Lead and Gold.7 | ||
She mounts the Throne: her head a Cloud conceal’d, | ||
In broad Effulgence° all below reveal’d,8 | brightness | |
(’Tis thus aspiring Dulness ever shines) | ||
20 | Soft on her lap her Laureat son reclines.9 | |
Beneath her foot-stool, Science° groans in Chains, | knowledge | |
And Wit dreads Exile, Penalties and Pains. | ||
There foam’d rebellious Logic, gagg’d and bound, | ||
There, stript, fair Rhet’ric languish’d on the ground; | ||
25 | His blunted Arms by Sophistry° are born, | misleading arguments |
And shameless Billingsgate° her Robes adorn. | obscene words | |
Morality, by her false Guardians drawn, | ||
Chicane in Furs, and Casuistry in Lawn,13 | ||
Gasps, as they straiten at each end the cord, | ||
30 | And dies, when Dulness gives her Page the word.14 | |
Mad Mathesis° alone was unconfin’d, | mathematics | |
Too mad for mere material chains to bind, | ||
Now to pure Space lifts her extatic stare, | ||
Now running round the Circle, finds it square.16 | ||
35 | But held in ten-fold bonds the Muses lie, | |
Watch’d both by Envy’s and by Flatt’ry’s eye:17 | ||
There to her heart sad Tragedy addrest | ||
The dagger wont to pierce the Tyrant’s breast; | ||
But sober History restrain’d her rage, | ||
40 | And promis’d Vengeance on a barb’rous age. | |
There sunk Thalia,° nerveless, cold, and dead, | Muse of comedy | |
Had not her Sister Satyr held her head: | ||
Nor cou’d’st thou, Chesterfield!19 a tear refuse, | ||
Thou wept’st, and with thee wept each gentle Muse. | ||
45 | When lo! a Harlot form soft sliding by,20 | |
With mincing step, small voice, and languid eye; | ||
Foreign her air, her robe’s discordant pride | ||
In patch-work flutt’ring, and her head aside: | ||
By singing Peers° up-held on either hand, | members of House of Lords | |
50 | She tripp’d and laugh’d, too pretty much to stand; | |
Cast on the prostrate Nine° a scornful look, | Muses | |
Then thus in quaint Recitativo° spoke. | half-singing | |
O Cara! Cara! silence all that train:24 | ||
Joy to great Chaos! let Division reign:25 | ||
Chromatic26 tortures soon shall drive them hence, | ||
Break all their nerves, and fritter all their sense: | ||
One Trill shall harmonize joy, grief, and rage, | ||
Wake the dull Church, and lull the ranting Stage; | ||
To the same notes thy sons shall hum, or snore, | ||
60 | And all thy yawning daughters cry, encore. | |
Another Phœbus,° thy own Phœbus, reigns, | Apollo, god of music | |
Joys in my jiggs, and dances in my chains. | ||
But soon, ah soon Rebellion will commence, | ||
If Music meanly borrows aid from Sense: | ||
65 | Strong in new Arms, lo! Giant Handel stands,28 | |
Like bold Briareus, with a hundred hands;29 | ||
To stir, to rouze, to shake the Soul he comes, | ||
And Jove’s own Thunders follow Mars’s Drums. | ||
Arrest him, Empress; or you sleep no more— | ||
70 | She heard, and drove him to th’Hibernian° shore. | Irish |
And now had Fame’s posterior Trumpet blown,31 | ||
And all the Nations summon’d to the Throne. | ||
The young, the old, who feel her inward sway, | ||
One instinct seizes, and transports away. | ||
75 | None need a guide, by sure Attraction led, | |
And strong impulsive gravity of Head: | ||
None want a place, for all their Centre found, | ||
Hung to the Goddess, and coher’d around.32 | ||
Not closer, orb in orb, conglob’d are seen | ||
80 | The buzzing Bees about their dusky Queen. | |
The gath’ring number, as it moves along, | ||
Involves a vast involuntary throng, | ||
Who gently drawn, and struggling less and less, | ||
Roll in her Vortex, and her pow’r confess. | ||
Not those alone who passive own° her laws, | acccept | |
But who, weak rebels, more advance her cause. | ||
Whate’er of dunce in College or in Town | ||
Sneers at another, in toupee° or gown; | wig | |
Whate’er of mungril no one class admits, | ||
90 | A wit with dunces, and a dunce with wits. | |
Nor absent they, no members of her state, | ||
Who pay her homage in her sons, the Great; | ||
Who false to Ph bus, bow the knee to Baal;35 | ||
Or impious, preach his Word without a call. | ||
95 | Patrons, who sneak from living worth to dead, | |
With-hold the pension, and set up the head;36 | ||
Or vest dull Flatt’ry in the sacred Gown; | ||
Or give from fool to fool the Laurel crown.37 | ||
And (last and worst) with all the cant° of wit, | nonsense | |
100 | Without the soul, the Muse’s Hypocrit. | |
There march’d the bard and blockhead, side by side, | ||
Who rhym’d for hire, and patroniz’d for pride. | ||
Narcissus,39 prais’d with all a Parson’s pow’r, | ||
Look’d a white lilly sunk beneath a show’r. | ||
There mov’d Montalto40 with superior air; | ||
His stretch’d-out arm display’d a Volume fair; | ||
Courtiers and Patriots in two ranks divide, | ||
Thro’ both he pass’d, and bow’d from side to side: | ||
But as in graceful act, with awful eye | ||
110 | Compos’d he stood, bold Benson thrust him by: | |
On two unequal crutches propt he came, | ||
Milton’s on this, on that one Johnston’s name. | ||
The decent Knight retir’d with sober rage, | ||
"What! no respect, he cry’d, for Shakespear’s page?”br> | ||
115 | But (happy for him as the times went then) | |
Appear’d Apollo’s May’r and Aldermen, | ||
On whom three hundred gold-capt youths41 await, | ||
To lug the pond’rous volume off in state. | ||
When Dulness, smiling — "Thus revive the Wits! | ||
120 | But murder first, and mince them all to bits; | |
As erst Medea (cruel, so to save!) | ||
A new Edition of old ’son gave.42 | ||
Let standard-Authors, thus, like trophies born, | ||
Appear more glorious as more hack’d and torn, | ||
125 | And you, my Critics! in the checquer’d shade, | |
Admire new light thro’ holes yourselves have made. | ||
Leave not a foot of verse,° a foot of stone, | poetic meter | |
A Page, a Grave, that they can call their own; | ||
But spread, my sons, your glory thin or thick, | ||
130 | On passive paper, or on solid brick. | |
So by each Bard an Alderman° shall sit, | city council member | |
A heavy Lord shall hang at ev’ry Wit, | ||
And while on Fame’s triumphal Car° they ride, | chariot | |
Some Slave of mine be pinion’d to their side. | ||
135 | Now crowds on crowds around the Goddess press, | |
Each eager to present the first Address. | ||
Dunce scorning Dunce beholds the next advance, | ||
But Fop shews Fop superior complaisance. | ||
When lo! a Spectre rose,46 whose index-hand | ||
140 | Held forth the Virtue of the dreadful Wand;47 | |
His beaver’d48 brow a birchen garland wears, | ||
Dropping with Infant’s blood, and Mother’s tears.49 | ||
O’er ev’ry vein a shudd’ring horror runs; | ||
Eton and Winton shake thro’ all their Sons. | ||
145 | All Flesh is humbled, Westminster’s bold race50 | |
Shrink, and confess the Genius° of the place: | protecting spirit | |
The pale Boy-Senator yet tingling stands, | ||
And holds his breeches close with both his hands. | ||
Then thus. Since Man from beast by Words is known, | ||
150 | Words are Man’s province, Words we teach alone. | |
When Reason doubtful, like the Samian letter,52 | ||
Points him two ways, the narrower is the better. | ||
Plac’d at the door of Learning, youth to guide, | ||
We never suffer° it to stand too wide. | allow | |
155 | To ask, to guess, to know, as they commence, | |
As Fancy° opens the quick springs of Sense, | imagination | |
We ply the Memory, we load the brain, | ||
Bind rebel Wit, and double chain on chain, | ||
Confine the thought, to exercise the breath; | ||
160 | And keep them in the pale° of Words till death. | fenced-in area |
Whate’er the talents, or howe’er design’d, | ||
We hang one jingling padlock on the mind: | ||
A Poet the first day, he dips his quill; | ||
And what the last? a very Poet still. | ||
165 | Pity! the charm works only in our wall, | |
Lost, lost too soon in yonder House or Hall.56 | ||
There truant Wyndham ev’ry Muse gave o’er, | ||
There Talbot sunk, and was a Wit no more! | ||
How sweet an Ovid, Murray was our boast! | ||
170 | How many Martials were in Pult’ney lost!57 | |
Else sure some Bard, to our eternal praise, | ||
In twice ten thousand rhyming nights and days, | ||
Had reach’d the Work, the All that mortal can; | ||
And South beheld that Master-piece of Man. | ||
175 | Oh (cry’d the Goddess) for some pedant Reign! | |
Some gentle James,58 to bless the land again; | ||
To stick the Doctor’s Chair into the Throne, | ||
Give law to Words, or war with Words alone, | ||
Senates and Courts with Greek and Latin rule, | ||
180 | And turn the Council to a Grammar School! | |
For sure, if Dulness sees a grateful° Day, | pleasing | |
’Tis in the shade of Arbitrary Sway.60 | ||
O! if my sons may learn one earthly thing, | ||
Teach but that one, sufficient for a King; | ||
185 | That which my Priests, and mine alone, maintain, | |
Which as it dies, or lives, we fall, or reign: | ||
May you, may Cam, and Isis preach it long!61 | ||
“The Right Divine of Kings to govern wrong.”62 | ||
Prompt at the Call, around the Goddess roll | ||
190 | Broad hats, and hoods, and caps, a sable shoal:63 | |
Thick and more thick the black blockade extends, | ||
A hundred head of Aristotle’s friends. | ||
Nor wert thou, Isis! wanting to the day, | ||
[Tho’ Christ-church long kept prudishly away.]64 | ||
195 | Each staunch Polemic, stubborn as a rock, | |
Each fierce Logician, still expelling Locke,65 | ||
Came whip and spur, and dash’d thro’ thin and thick | ||
On German Crouzaz, and Dutch Burgersdyck.66 | ||
As many quit the streams that murm’ring fall | ||
200 | To lull the sons of Marg’ret and Clare-hall,° | colleges at Cambridge |
Where Bentley68 late tempestuous wont to sport | ||
In troubled waters, but now sleeps in Port. | ||
Before them march’d that awful Aristarch; | ||
Plow’d was his front with many a deep Remark: | ||
205 | His Hat, which never vail’d to human pride, | |
Walker69 with rev’rence took, and lay’d aside. | ||
Low bow’d the rest: He, kingly, did but nod; | ||
So upright Quakers please both Man and God.70 | ||
Mistress! dismiss that rabble from your throne: | ||
Avaunt — is Aristarchus71 yet unknown? | ||
Thy mighty Scholiast,° whose unweary’d pains | scholarly commentator | |
Made Horace dull, and humbled Milton’s strains.73 | ||
Turn what they will to Verse, their toil is vain, | ||
Critics like me shall make it Prose again. | ||
215 | Roman and Greek Grammarians! know your Better: | |
Author of something yet more great than Letter; | ||
While tow’ring o’er your Alphabet, like Saul, | ||
Stands our Digamma, and o’er-tops them all.74 | ||
’Tis true, on Words is still our whole debate, | ||
220 | Disputes of Me or Te, of aut or at, | |
To sound or sink in cano, O or A, | ||
Or give up Cicero to C or K.75 | ||
Let Freind affect to speak as Terence spoke, | ||
And Alsop never but like Horace joke:76 | ||
225 | For me, what Virgil, Pliny may deny, | |
Manilius or Solinus shall supply:77 | ||
For Attic Phrase in Plato let them seek, | ||
I poach in Suidas for unlicens’d Greek. | ||
In ancient Sense if any needs will deal, | ||
230 | Be sure I give them Fragments, not a Meal; | |
What Gellius or Stobæus hash’d before,78 | ||
Or chew’d by blind old Scholiasts o’er and o’er. | ||
The critic Eye, that microscope of Wit, | ||
Sees hairs and pores, examines bit by bit: | ||
235 | How parts relate to parts, or they to whole, | |
The body’s harmony, the beaming soul, | ||
Are things which Kuster, Burman, Wasse shall see,79 | ||
When Man’s whole frame is obvious to a Flea. | ||
Ah, think not, Mistress! more true Dulness lies | ||
240 | In Folly’s Cap, than Wisdom’s grave disguise. | |
Like buoys, that never sink into the flood, | ||
On Learning’s surface we but lie and nod. | ||
Thine is the genuine head of many a house, | ||
And much Divinity without a .80 | ||
245 | Nor could a Barrow work on ev’ry block, | |
Nor has one Atterbury spoil’d the flock.81 | ||
See! still thy own, the heavy Canon roll,82 | ||
And Metaphysic smokes involve the Pole. | ||
For thee we dim the eyes, and stuff the head | ||
250 | With all such reading as was never read: | |
For thee explain a thing till all men doubt it, | ||
And write about it, Goddess, and about it: | ||
So spins the silk-worm small its slender store, | ||
And labours till it clouds itself all o’er. | ||
What tho’° we let some better sort of fool | what if | |
Thrid ev’ry science, run thro’ ev’ry school? | ||
Never by tumbler thro’ the hoops was shown | ||
Such skill in passing all, and touching none. | ||
He may indeed (if sober all this time) | ||
260 | Plague with Dispute, or persecute with Rhyme. | |
We only furnish what he cannot use, | ||
Or wed to what he must divorce, a Muse: | ||
Full in the midst of Euclid84 dip at once, | ||
And petrify a Genius to a Dunce: | ||
265 | Or set on Metaphysic ground to prance, | |
Show all his paces, not a step advance. | ||
With the same Cement, ever sure to bind, | ||
We bring to one dead level ev’ry mind. | ||
Then take him to devellop, if you can, | ||
270 | And hew the Block off, and get out the Man. | |
But wherefore waste I words? I see advance | ||
Whore, Pupil, and lac’d Governor from France. | ||
Walker! our hat — nor more he deign’d to say, | ||
But, stern as Ajax’ spectre, strode away. | ||
275 | In flow’d at once a gay embroider’d race, | |
And titt’ring push’d the Pedants off the place:85 | ||
Some would have spoken, but the voice was drown’d | ||
By the French horn, or by the op’ning hound. | ||
The first came forwards, with as easy mien, | ||
As if he saw St. James’s° and the Queen. | St. James’s Palace | |
When thus th’attendant Orator begun. | ||
Receive, great Empress! thy accomplish’d Son: | ||
Thine from the birth, and sacred from the rod, | ||
A dauntless infant! never scar’d with God. | ||
285 | The Sire saw, one by one, his Virtues wake: | |
The Mother begg’d the blessing of a Rake. | ||
Thou gav’st that Ripeness, which so soon began, | ||
And ceas’d so soon, he ne’er was Boy, nor Man. | ||
Thro’ School and College, thy kind cloud o’ercast, | ||
290 | Safe and unseen the young ’neas past: | |
Thence bursting glorious, all at once let down, | ||
Stunn’d with his giddy Larum° half the town. | alarm | |
Intrepid then, o’er seas and lands he flew: | ||
Europe he saw, and Europe saw him too. | ||
295 | There all thy gifts and graces we display, | |
Thou, only thou, directing all our way! | ||
To where the Seine, obsequious as she runs, | ||
Pours at great Bourbon’s feet her silken sons; | ||
Or Tyber, now no longer Roman, rolls, | ||
300 | Vain of Italian Arts, Italian Souls: | |
To happy Convents, bosom’d deep in vines, | ||
Where slumber Abbots, purple as their wines: | ||
To Isles of fragrance, lilly-silver’d vales, | ||
Diffusing languor in the panting gales: | ||
305 | To lands of singing, or of dancing slaves, | |
Love-whisp’ring woods, and lute-resounding waves. | ||
But chief her shrine where naked Venus keeps, | ||
And Cupids ride the Lyon of the Deeps; | ||
Where, eas’d of Fleets, the Adriatic main | ||
310 | Wafts the smooth Eunuch and enamour’d swain. | |
Led by my hand, he saunter’d Europe round, | ||
And gather’d ev’ry Vice on Christian ground; | ||
Saw ev’ry Court, hear’d ev’ry King declare | ||
His royal Sense, of Op’ra’s or the Fair; | ||
315 | The Stews° and Palace equally explor’d, | brothels |
Intrigu’d with glory, and with spirit whor’d; | ||
Try’d all hors-d’ uvres, all Liqueurs defin’d, | ||
Judicious drank, and greatly-daring din’d; | ||
Dropt the dull lumber° of the Latin store, | anything useless | |
320 | Spoil’d his own Language, and acquir’d no more; | |
All Classic learning lost on Classic ground; | ||
And last turn’d Air, the Eccho of a Sound! | ||
See now, half-cur’d, and perfectly well-bred, | ||
With nothing but a Solo in his head; | ||
325 | As much Estate, and Principle, and Wit, | |
As Jansen, Fleetwood, Cibber shall think fit;90 | ||
Stol’n° from a Duel, follow’d by a Nun, | escaped | |
And, if a Borough chuse him, not undone;92 | ||
See, to my country happy I restore | ||
330 | This glorious Youth, and add one Venus more. | |
Her too receive (for her my soul adores) | ||
So may the sons of sons of sons of whores, | ||
Prop thine, O Empress! like each neighbour Throne, | ||
And make a long Posterity thy own. | ||
335 | Pleas’d, she accepts the Hero, and the Dame, | |
Wraps in her Veil, and frees from sense of Shame. | ||
Then look’d, and saw a lazy, lolling sort, | ||
Unseen at Church, at Senate, or at Court, | ||
Of ever-listless Loit’rers, that attend | ||
340 | No Cause, no Trust, no Duty, and no Friend. | |
Thee too, my Paridel!93 she mark’d thee there, | ||
Stretch’d on the rack of a too easy chair, | ||
And heard thy everlasting yawn confess | ||
The Pains and Penalties of Idleness. | ||
345 | She pity’d! but her Pity only shed | |
Benigner influence on thy nodding head. | ||
But Annius,94 crafty Seer, with ebon wand, | ||
And well-dissembl’d Em’rald on his hand, | ||
False as his Gems and canker’d as his Coins, | ||
Came, cramm’d with Capon,° from where Pollio dines. | chicken | |
Soft, as the wily Fox is seen to creep, | ||
Where bask on sunny banks the simple sheep, | ||
Walk round and round, now prying here, now there; | ||
So he; but pious, whisper’d first his pray’r. | ||
355 | Grant, gracious Goddess! grant me still to cheat, | |
O may thy cloud still cover the deceit! | ||
Thy choicer mists on this assembly shed, | ||
But pour them thickest on the noble head. | ||
So shall each youth, assisted by our eyes, | ||
360 | See other Cæsars, other Homers rise; | |
Thro’ twilight ages hunt th’Athenian fowl, | ||
Which Chalcis Gods, and mortals call an Owl, | ||
Now see an Attys, now a Cecrops clear,96 | ||
Nay, Mahomet!° the Pigeon at thine ear; | Muhammad | |
365 | Be rich in ancient brass, tho’ not in gold, | |
And keep his Lares,98 tho’ his house be sold; | household gods | |
To headless Ph be his fair bride postpone, | ||
Honour a Syrian Prince above his own; | ||
Lord of an Otho, if I vouch it true; | ||
370 | Blest in one Niger, till he knows of two. | |
Mummius99 o’erheard him; Mummius, Fool-renown’d, | ||
Who like his Cheops stinks above the ground, | ||
Fierce as a startled Adder, swell’d, and said, | ||
Rattling an ancient Sistrum° at his head. | Egyptian musical instrument | |
375 | Speak’st thou of Syrian Princes? Traitor base! | |
Mine, Goddess! mine is all the horned race. | ||
True, he had wit, to make their value rise; | ||
From foolish Greeks to steal them, was as wise; | ||
More glorious yet, from barb’rous hands to keep, | ||
When Sallee Rovers° chac’d him on the deep. | pirate ships | |
Then taught by Hermes, and divinely bold, | ||
Down his own throat he risqu’d the Grecian gold; | ||
Receiv’d each Demi-God, with pious care, | ||
Deep in his Entrails — I rever’d them there, | ||
385 | I bought them, shrouded in that living shrine, | |
And, at their second birth, they issue mine. | ||
Witness great Ammon! by whose horns I swore, | ||
(Reply’d soft Annius) this our paunch before | ||
Still bears them, faithful; and that thus I eat, | ||
390 | Is to refund the Medals with the meat. | |
To prove me, Goddess! clear of all design, | ||
Bid me with Pollio sup, as well as dine: | ||
There all the Learn’d shall at the labour stand, | ||
And Douglas lend his soft, obstetric hand. | ||
395 | The Goddess smiling seem’d to give consent; | |
So back to Pollio, hand in hand, they went. | ||
Then thick as Locusts black’ning all the ground, | ||
A tribe, with weeds and shells fantastic crown’d, | ||
Each with some wond’rous gift approach’d the Pow’r, | ||
400 | A Nest, a Toad, a Fungus, or a Flow’r. | |
But far the foremost, two, with earnest zeal, | ||
And aspect ardent to the Throne appeal. | ||
The first thus open’d: Hear thy suppliant’s call, | ||
Great Queen, and common Mother of us all! | ||
405 | Fair from its humble bed I rear’d this Flow’r, | |
Suckled, and chear’d, with air, and sun, and show’r, | ||
Soft on the paper ruff its leaves I spread, | ||
Bright with the gilded button tipt its head, | ||
Then thron’d in glass, and nam’d it Caroline:° | (the queen) | |
410 | Each Maid cry’d, charming! and each Youth, divine! | |
Did Nature’s pencil° ever blend such rays, | paintbrush | |
Such vary’d light in one promiscuous° blaze? | mixed up | |
Now prostrate! dead! behold that Caroline: | ||
No Maid cries, charming! and no Youth, divine! | ||
415 | And lo the wretch! whose vile, whose insect lust | |
Lay’d this gay daughter of the Spring in dust. | ||
Oh punish him, or to th’Elysian shades | ||
Dismiss my soul, where no Carnation fades. | ||
He ceas’d, and wept. With innocence of mien,105 | appearance | |
420 | Th’Accus’d stood forth, and thus address’d the Queen. | |
Of all th’enamel’d race,° whose silv’ry wing | insects | |
Waves to the tepid Zephyrs° of the spring, | gentle breezes | |
Or swims along the fluid atmosphere, | ||
Once brightest shin’d this child of Heat and Air. | ||
425 | I saw, and started from its vernal bow’r | |
The rising game, and chac’d from flow’r to flow’r. | ||
It fled, I follow’d; now in hope, now pain; | ||
It stopt, I stopt; it mov’d, I mov’d again. | ||
At last it fix’d, ’twas on what plant it pleas’d, | ||
And where it fix’d, the beauteous bird108 I seiz’d: | ||
430 | ||
Rose or Carnation was below my care; | ||
I meddle, Goddess! only in my sphere. | ||
I tell the naked fact without disguise, | ||
And, to excuse it, need but shew the prize; | ||
435 | Whose spoils this paper offers to your eye, | |
Fair ev’n in death! this peerless Butterfly. | ||
My sons! (she answer’d) both have done your parts: | ||
Live happy both, and long promote our arts. | ||
But hear a Mother, when she recommends | ||
440 | To your fraternal care, our sleeping friends. | |
The common Soul, of Heav’n’s more frugal make, | ||
Serves but to keep fools pert, and knaves awake: | ||
A drowzy Watchman, that just gives a knock, | ||
And breaks our rest, to tell us what’s a clock. | ||
445 | Yet by some object ev’ry brain is stirr’d; | |
The dull may waken to a Humming-bird; | ||
The most recluse, discreetly open’d, find | ||
Congenial matter in the Cockle-kind; | ||
The mind, in Metaphysics at a loss, | ||
450 | May wander in a wilderness of Moss;109 | |
The head that turns at super-lunar things, | ||
Poiz’d with a tail, may steer on Wilkins’ wings.110 | ||
O! would the Sons of Men once think their Eyes | ||
And Reason giv’n them but to study Flies! | ||
455 | See Nature in some partial narrow shape, | |
And let the Author of the Whole escape: | ||
Learn but to trifle; or, who most observe, | ||
To wonder at their Maker, not to serve. | ||
Be that my task (replies a gloomy Clerk,111 | ||
460 | Sworn foe to Myst’ry, yet divinely dark; | |
Whose pious hope aspires to see the day | ||
When Moral Evidence shall quite decay,112 | ||
And damns implicit faith, and holy lies, | ||
Prompt to impose, and fond to dogmatize:) | ||
465 | Let others creep by timid steps, and slow, | |
On plain Experience lay foundations low, | ||
By common sense to common knowledge bred, | ||
And last, to Nature’s Cause thro’ Nature led. | ||
All-seeing in thy mists, we want no guide, | ||
470 | Mother of Arrogance, and Source of Pride! | |
We nobly take the high Priori Road,113 | ||
And reason downward, till we doubt of God: | ||
Make Nature still incroach upon his plan; | ||
And shove him off as far as e’er we can: | ||
475 | Thrust some Mechanic Cause into his place; | |
Or bind in Matter, or diffuse in Space.114 | ||
Or, at one bound o’er-leaping all his laws, | ||
Make God Man’s Image, Man the final Cause, | ||
Find Virtue local, all Relation scorn, | ||
480 | See all in Self, and but for self be born: | |
Of nought so certain as our Reason still, | ||
Of nought so doubtful as of Soul and Will. | ||
Oh hide the God still more! and make us see | ||
Such as Lucretius drew, a God like Thee: | ||
485 | Wrapt up in Self, a God without a Thought, | |
Regardless of our merit or default.115 | ||
Or that bright Image to our fancy draw, | ||
Which Theocles in raptur’d vision saw, | ||
While thro’ Poetic scenes the Genius roves, | ||
490 | Or wanders wild in Academic Groves; | |
That Nature our Society adores, | ||
Where Tindal dictates, and Silenus snores.116 | ||
Rous’d at his name, up rose the bowzy° Sire, | boozy | |
And shook from out his Pipe the seeds of fire; | ||
Then snapt his box,° and strok’d his belly down: | snuff-box | |
Rosy and rev’rend, tho’ without a Gown.° | priest’s robe | |
Bland and familiar to the throne he came, | ||
Led up the Youth, and call’d the Goddess Dame. | ||
Then thus. From Priest-craft° happily set free, | religious fraud | |
500 | Lo! ev’ry finish’d Son returns to thee: | |
First slave to Words, then vassal to a Name, | ||
Then dupe to Party; child and man the same; | ||
Bounded by Nature, narrow’d still by Art, | ||
A trifling head, and a contracted heart. | ||
505 | Thus bred, thus taught, how many have I seen, | |
Smiling on all, and smil’d on by a Queen. | ||
Mark’d out for Honours, honour’d for their Birth, | ||
To thee the most rebellious things on earth: | ||
Now to thy gentle shadow all are shrunk, | ||
510 | All melted down, in Pension, or in Punk!° | prostitute |
So K—— so B—— sneak’d into the grave, | ||
A Monarch’s half, and half a Harlot’s slave. | ||
Poor W—— nipt in Folly’s broadest bloom,122 | ||
Who praises now? his Chaplain on his Tomb. | ||
515 | Then take them all, oh take them to thy breast! | |
Thy Magus, Goddess! shall perform the rest. | ||
With that, a Wizard old123 his Cup extends; | ||
Which whoso tastes, forgets his former friends, | ||
Sire, Ancestors, Himself. One casts his eyes | ||
Up to a Star,124 and like Endymion dies:125 | ||
A Feather shooting from another’s head, | ||
Extracts his brain, and Principle is fled, | ||
Lost is his God, his Country, ev’ry thing; | ||
And nothing left but Homage to a King! | ||
525 | The vulgar herd turn off to roll with Hogs, | |
To run with Horses, or to hunt with Dogs; | ||
But, sad example! never to escape | ||
Their Infamy, still keep the human shape. | ||
But she, good Goddess, sent to ev’ry child | ||
530 | Firm Impudence, or Stupefaction mild; | |
And strait succeeded, leaving shame no room, | ||
Cibberian forehead, or Cimmerian gloom.126 | ||
Kind Self-conceit to some her glass° applies, | mirror | |
Which no one looks in with another’s eyes: | ||
535 | But as the Flatt’rer or Dependant paint, | |
Beholds himself a Patriot, Chief, or Saint. | ||
On others Int’rest her gay liv’ry° flings, | servant’s uniform | |
Int’rest, that waves on Party-colour’d wings: | ||
Turn’d to the Sun, she casts a thousand dyes, | ||
540 | And, as she turns, the colours fall or rise. | |
Others the Syren Sisters warble round,129 | ||
And empty heads console with empty sound. | ||
No more, alas! the voice of Fame they hear, | ||
The balm of Dulness trickling in their ear. | ||
545 | Great C——, H——, P——, R——, K——,130 | |
Why all your Toils? your Sons have learn’d to sing. | ||
How quick Ambition hastes to ridicule! | ||
The Sire is made a Peer, the Son a Fool. | ||
On some, a Priest succinct in amice° white | part of priest’s robe | |
550 | Attends; all flesh is nothing in his sight! | |
Beeves,° at his touch, at once to jelly turn, | cows | |
And the huge Boar is shrunk into an Urn: | ||
The board° with specious miracles he loads, | dining table | |
Turns Hares to Larks, and Pigeons into Toads. | ||
555 | Another (for in all what one can shine?) | |
Explains the Seve° and Verdeur° of the Vine. | deliciousness — piquancy | |
What cannot copious Sacrifice attone? | ||
Thy Treufles, Perigord! thy Hams, Bayonne!135 | ||
With French Libation, and Italian Strain, | ||
560 | Wash Bladen white, and expiate Hays’s stain. | |
Knight lifts the head, for what are crowds undone | ||
To three essential Partriges in one? | ||
Gone ev’ry blush, and silent all reproach, | ||
Contending Princes mount them in their Coach. | ||
565 | Next bidding all draw near on bended knees, | |
The Queen confers her Titles and Degrees. | ||
Her children first of more distinguish’d sort, | ||
Who study Shakespeare at the Inns of Court,° | law schools | |
Impale a Glow-worm, or Vertù° profess, | good taste in art | |
570 | Shine in the dignity of F.R.S.° | Fellow of the Royal Society |
Some, deep Free-Masons, join the silent race | ||
Worthy to fill Pythagoras’s place: | ||
Some Botanists, or Florists at the least, | ||
Or issue Members of an Annual feast. | ||
575 | Nor past the meanest unregarded, one | |
Rose a Gregorian, one a Gormogon. | ||
The last, not least in honour or applause, | ||
Isis and Cam° made Doctors of her Laws. | Oxford and Cambridge | |
Then blessing all, Go Children of my care! | ||
580 | To Practice now from Theory repair.° | go |
All my commands are easy, short, and full: | ||
My Sons! be proud, be selfish, and be dull. | ||
Guard my Prerogative,° assert my Throne: | monarch’s power | |
This Nod confirms each Privilege your own. | ||
585 | The Cap and Switch be sacred to his Grace;° | (term to address a bishop) |
With Staff and Pumps the Marquis lead the Race; | ||
From Stage to Stage the licens’d Earl may run, | ||
Pair’d with his Fellow-Charioteer the Sun; | ||
The learned Baron Butterflies design, | ||
590 | Or draw to silk Arachne’s° subtile line; | spider |
The Judge to dance his brother Sergeant call; | ||
The Senator at Cricket urge the Ball; | ||
The Bishop stow (Pontific Luxury!) | ||
An hundred Souls of Turkeys in a pye; | ||
595 | The sturdy Squire to Gallic° masters stoop, | French |
And drown his Lands and Manors in a Soupe. | ||
Others import yet nobler arts from France, | ||
Teach Kings to fiddle, and make Senates dance. | ||
Perhaps more high some daring son may soar, | ||
600 | Proud to my list to add one Monarch more; | |
And nobly conscious, Princes are but things | ||
Born for First Ministers, as Slaves for Kings, | ||
Tyrant supreme! shall three Estates command, | ||
And make one Mighty Dunciad of the Land! | ||
605 | More she had spoke, but yawn’d — All Nature nods: | |
What Mortal can resist the Yawn of Gods?145 | ||
Churches and Chapels instantly it reach’d; | ||
(St. James’s first, for leaden Gilbert146 preach’d) | ||
Then catch’d the Schools; the Hall scarce kept awake; | ||
610 | The Convocation gap’d, but could not speak: | |
Lost was the Nation’s Sense, nor could be found, | ||
While the long solemn Unison went round: | ||
Wide, and more wide, it spread o’er all the realm; | ||
Ev’n Palinurus nodded at the Helm:147 | ||
615 | The Vapour mild o’er each Committee crept; | |
Unfinish’d Treaties in each Office slept; | ||
And Chiefless Armies doz’d out the Campaign; | ||
And Navies yawn’d for Orders on the Main. | ||
O Muse! relate (for you can tell alone, | ||
620 | Wits have short Memories, and Dunces none) | |
Relate, who first, who last resign’d to rest; | ||
Whose Heads she partly, whose completely blest; | ||
What Charms could Faction, what Ambition lull, | ||
The Venal quiet, and intrance the Dull; | ||
625 | ’Till drown’d was Sense, and Shame, and Right, and Wrong— | |
O sing, and hush the Nations with thy Song! | ||
* * * * * * * * * * * * |
||
In vain, in vain, — the all-composing Hour | ||
Resistless falls: The Muse obeys the Pow’r. | ||
She comes! she comes! the sable Throne behold | ||
630 | Of Night Primæval, and of Chaos old!148 | |
Before her, Fancy’s gilded clouds decay, | ||
And all its varying Rain-bows die away. | ||
Wit shoots in vain its momentary fires, | ||
The meteor drops, and in a flash expires. | ||
635 | As one by one, at dread Medea’s strain, | |
The sick’ning stars fade off th’ethereal plain; | ||
As Argus’ eyes149 by Hermes’ wand opprest, | ||
Clos’d one by one to everlasting rest; | ||
Thus at her felt approach, and secret might, | ||
640 | Art after Art goes out, and all is Night. | |
See skulking Truth to her old Cavern fled, | ||
Mountains of Casuistry° heap’d o’er her head! | deceptive argument | |
Philosophy, that lean’d on Heav’n before, | ||
Shrinks to her second cause, and is no more. | ||
645 | Physic of Metaphysic begs defence, | |
And Metaphysic calls for aid on Sense! | ||
See Mystery151 to Mathematics fly! | ||
In vain! they gaze, turn giddy, rave, and die. | ||
Religion blushing veils her sacred fires, | ||
650 | And unawares Morality expires. | |
Nor public Flame, nor private, dares to shine; | ||
Nor human Spark is left, nor Glimpse divine! | ||
Lo! thy dread Empire, Chaos! is restor’d; | ||
Light dies before thy uncreating word:152 | ||
655 | Thy hand, great Anarch!° lets the curtain fall; | creator of anarchy |
And Universal Darkness buries All. | ||
FINIS. |