Then catch'd the schools; the hall scarce kept awake:
The convocation gap'd, but could not speak : 610
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:
"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."

616

O Muse!

Palinurus himself (though as incapable of sleeping as Jupiter himself) yet noddeth for a moment; the effect of which, though ever so momentary, could not but cause some relaxation, for the time, in all public affairs. SCRIBLERUS. POPE.

VER. 608. for leaden G—] Dr. Gilbert, Archbishop of York. He had never given Pope any particular offence; but he had attacked Dr. King of Oxford, whom Pope much respected.

VER. 610. The convocation gap'd, but could not speak :] Implying a great desire so to do, as the learned scholiast on the place rightly observes. Therefore beware, Reader, lest thou take this gape for a yawn, which is attended with no desire, but to go to rest: by no means the disposition of the convocation; whose melancholy case in short is this: She was, as is reported, infected with the general influence of the Goddess; and while she was yawning carelessly at her ease, a wanton courtier took her at advantage, and in the very nick, clap'd a gag into her mouth. Well therefore may we know her meaning by her gaping; and this distressful posture which our poet here describes, is just as she stands at this day, a sad example of the effects of dulness and malice unchecked and despised. BENTLEY.

VER. 615-618. These verses were written many years ago, and may be found in the state poems of that time. So that Scriblerus is mistaken, or whoever else have imagined this poem of a fresher date.

POPE.

620

O Muse! relate (for you can tell alone, 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; [wrongTill drown'd was sense, and shame, and right, and O sing, and hush the nations with thy song! 626

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 primeval, and of Chaos old!
Before her, Fancy's gilded clouds decay,
And all its varying rainbows die away.
Wit shoots in vain its momentary fires,
The meteor drops, and in a flash expires.

As one by one, at dread Medea's strain,

635

The sick'ning stars fade off th' ethereal plain;
As Argus' eyes, by Hermes' wand opprest,
Clos'd one by one to everlasting rest;

Thus

VER. 620. Wits have short memories,] This seemeth to be the reason why the poets, whenever they give us a catalogue, constantly call for help on the Muses, who, as the daughters of Memory, are obliged not to forget any thing. So Homer, Iliad ii. Πληθὺν δ ̓ ἐκ ἂν ἐγὼ μυθήσομαι ἐδ ̓ ὀνομήνω,

Εἰ μὴ Ὀλυμπιάδες Μᾶσαι, Διός αἰγιόχοιο
Θυγατέρες, κνησαίας.

And Virg. Æneid. vii.

"Et meministis enim, Divæ, et memorare potestis:
Ad nos vix tenuis famæ perlabitur aura.”

But

Thus at her felt approach, and secret might,
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!
Philosophy, that lean'd on heav'n before,
Shrinks to her second cause, and is no more.
Physic of Metaphysic begs defence,

And Metaphysic calls for aid on Sense!
See Mystery to Mathematics fly!

640

645

In vain! they gaze, turn giddy, rave, and die.
Religion blushing veils her sacred fires,

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:

Thy hand, great Anarch! lets the curtain fall;
And universal darkness buries all.

650

But our poet had yet another reason for putting this task upon the
Muse, that, all besides being asleep, she could only relate what
passed.
SCRIBLERUS. POPE.

VER. 643. In the former edit. it stood thus:
"Philosophy, that reach'd the heav'ns before,
Shrinks to her hidden cause, and is no more!"

WHEREAS certain Haberdashers of Points and Particles, being instigated by the spirit of Pride, and assuming to themselves the name of Critics and Restorers, habe taken upon them to adulterate the common and current sense of our Glorious Ancestors, Poets of this Realm, by clipping, coining, defacing the images, miring their own base alloy, or otherwise falsifying the same; which they publish, utter, and bend as genuine : The said haberdashers having no right thereto, as neither heirs, executors, administrators, assigns, or in any sort related to such Poets, to all or any of them; Now We, having carefully revised this our Dunciad,

a

beginning with

2 Read thus confidently, instead of " beginning with the word Books, and ending with the word flies," as formerly it stood: Read also,"containing the entire sum of one thousand seven hundred and fifty-four verses," instead of one thousand and twelve lines;" such being the initial and final words, and such the true and entire contents, of this poem

Thou art to know, Reader! that the first edition thereof, like that of Milton, was never seen by the author (though living and