What Time would fpare, from Steel receives its
And monuments, like men, submit to fate!
Steel could the labour of the Gods deftroy,
And strike to duft th' imperial tow'rs of Troy;
Steel could the works of mortal pride confound,
And hew triumphal arches to the ground.
176 What wonder then, fair nymph! thy hairs should feel,
The conqu❜ring force of unrefifted steel?
Ille quoque everfus mons eft, etc.
Quid faciant crines, cum ferro talia cedant ?
Catull. de com, Berenices,
UT anxious cares the penfive nymph opprefs'd,
And fecret paffions labour'd in her breast.
Not youthful kings in battle feiz'd alive,
Not fcornful virgins who their charms furvive,
Not ardent lovers robb'd of all their bliss,
Not ancient ladies when refus'd a kifs,
Not tyrants fierce that unrepenting die,
Not Cynthia when her manteau's pinn'd awry,
E'er felt such rage, refentment, and defpair,
As thou, fad Virgin! for thy ravish'd Hair.
For, that fad moment, when the Sylphs withdrew,
And Ariel weeping from Belinda flew,
VER. 11. F that fad moment, etc.] All the lines from hence to the 94th verfe that defcribe the houfe of Spleen are not in the first Edition; instead of them followed only thefe,
While her rack'd Soul repofe and peace requires, The fierce Thaleftris fans the rifing fires. And continued at the 94th Verse of this Canto.
VER. 1, Virg. Æn. iv. At regina gravi, etc.
Umbriel, a dusky, melancholy sprite,
As ever fully'd the fair face of light,
Down to the central earth, his proper fcene,
Repair'd to search the gloomy Cave of Spleen.
Swift on his footy pinions flits the Gnome,
And in a vapour reach'd the difmal dome.
No chearful breeze this fullen region knows,
The dreaded Eaft is all the wind that blows.
Here in a grotto, fhelter'd clofe from air,
And screen'd in fhades from day's detefted glare,
She fighs for ever on her penfive bed,
Pain at her fide, and Megrim at her head.
Two handmaids wait the throne: alike in place, But diff'ring far in figure and in face.
Here ftood Ill-nature like an ancient maid,
Her wrinkled form in black and white array'd;
With ftore of pray'rs, for mornings, nights, and
Her hand is fill'd; her bofom with lampoons. 30
There Affectation, with a fickly mien,
Shows in her cheek the roses of eighteen,
Practis'd to lifp, and hang the head afide,
Faints into airs, and languishes with pride,
On the rich quilt finks with becoming woe,
Wrapt in a gown, for fickness, and for show.
The fair-ones feel fuch maladies as thefe,
When each new night-dress gives a new disease.
A conftant Vapour o'er the palace flies;,
Strange phantoms rifing as the mifts arife;
Dreadful, as hermit's dreams in haunted fhades,
Or bright, as vifions of expiring maids,
Now glaring fiends, and fnakes on rolling fpires,
Pale spectres, gaping tombs, and purple fires :
Now lakes of liquid gold, Elysian scenes,
And crystal domes, and Angels in machines.
Unnumber'd throngs on ev'ry fide are seen,
Of bodies chang'd to various forms by Spleen.
Here living Tea-pots ftand, one arm held out,
One bent; the handle this, and that the spout:
A Pipkin there, like Homer's Tripod walks ;
Here fighs a Jar, and there a Goofe-pye talks ;
Men prove with child, as pow'rful fancy works,
And maids turn'd bottles, call aloud for corks.
Safe past the Gnome thro' this fantastic band,
A branch of healing Spleenwort in his hand.
Then thus addrefs'd the pow'r-Hail wayward
Queen!
Who rule the fex to fifty from fifteen :
Parent of vapours and of female wit,
Who give th' hyfteric, or poetic fit,
On various tempers act by various ways,
Make fome take phyfic, others fcribble plays;
Who cause the proud their visits to delay,
And fend the godly in a pet to pray.
A nymph there is, that all thy pow'r disdains,
And thoufands more in equal mirth maintains.
VER. 51. Homer's Tripod walks ;] See Hom, Iliad xviii. of Vulcan's walking Tripods.
VER. 52, and there a Goofe pye talks.] Alludes to a real fact, a Lady of diftinction imagin'd herself in this condition.
But oh! if e'er thy Gnome could spoil a grace,
Or raise a pimple on a beauteous face,
Like Citron-waters matrons cheeks inflame,
Or change complexions at a lofing game;
If e'er with airy horns I planted heads,
Or rumpled petticoats, or tumbled beds,
Or caus'd fufpicion when no foul was rude,
Or difcompos'd the head-drefs of a Prude,
Or e'er to coftive lap-dog gave disease
Which not the tears of brightest eyes could eafe :
Hear me, and touch Belinda with chagrin,
That fingle act gives half the world the spleen.
The Goddefs with a difcontented air
Seems to reject him, tho' fhe grants his pray'r. 80.
A wond'rous Bag with both her hands she binds,
Like that where once Ulyffes held the winds;
There the collects the force of female lungs,
Sighs, fobs, and paffions, and the war of tongues.
A Vial next fhe fills with fainting fears,
Soft forrows, melting griefs, and flowing tears.
The Gnome rejoicing bears her gifts away,
Spreads his black wings, and flowly mounts to day.
Sunk in Thaleftris' arms the nymph he found,
Her eyes dejected, and her hair unbound.
Full o'er their heads the fwelling bag he rent,
And all the Furies iffu'd at the vent.
Belinda burns with more than mortal ire,
And fierce Thaleftris fans the rifing fire.
O wretched maid! fhe fpread her hands, and cry'd, (While Hampton's echoes, wretched maid! reply'd) Was it for this you took fuch constant care
The bodkin, comb, and effence to prepare ?
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