The Rape of the Lock and Other Major Writings: Poems and Other Writings (Penguin Classics)
Page 33
See the fierce Visigoths on Spain and Gaul!
See where the morning gilds the palmy shore
(The soil that arts and infant letters bore):
His conqu’ring tribes th’ Arabian prophet draws,
And saving Ignorance enthrones by laws.
See Christians, Jews, one heavy sabbath keep,
100 And all the western world believe and sleep.
‘Lo! Rome herself, proud mistress now no more
Of arts, but thund’ring against heathen lore;
Her grey-haired synods damning books unread,
And Bacon trembling for his brazen head.
Padua, with sighs, beholds her Livy burn,
And ev’n th’ Antipodes Vigilius mourn.
See, the Cirque falls, th’ unpillared temple nods,
Streets paved with heroes, Tiber choked with gods;
Till Peter’s keys some christened Jove adorn,
110 And Pan to Moses lends his pagan horn;
See graceless Venus to a Virgin turned,
Or Phidias broken, and Apelles burned.
‘Behold yon Isle, by palmers, pilgrims trod,
Men bearded, bald, cowled, uncowled, shod, unshod,
Peeled, patched and piebald, linsey-wolsey brothers,
Grave mummers! sleeveless some, and shirtless others.
That once was Britain – happy! had she seen
No fiercer sons, had Easter never been.
In peace, great Goddess, ever be adored;
120 How keen the war, if Dullness draw the sword!
Thus visit not thy own! on this blest age
Oh spread thy influence, but restrain thy rage.
‘And see, my son! the hour is on its way,
That lifts our Goddess to imperial sway;
This fav’rite isle, long severed from her reign,
Dove-like, she gathers to her wings again.
Now look through Fate! behold the scene she draws!
What aids, what armies to assert her cause!
See all her progeny, illustrious sight!
130 Behold, and count them, as they rise to light.
As Berecynthia, while her offspring vie
In homage to the Mother of the sky,
Surveys around her, in the blest abode,
An hundred sons, and ev’ry son a god:
Not with less glory mighty Dullness crowned
Shall take through Grub Street her triumphant round;
And her Parnassus glancing o’er at once,
Behold an hundred sons, and each a Dunce.
‘Mark first that youth who takes the foremost place,
140 And thrusts his person full into your face.
With all thy father’s virtues blest, be born!
And a new Cibber shall the stage adorn.
‘A second see, by meeker manners known,
And modest as the maid that sips alone;
From the strong fate of drams if thou get free,
Another Durfey, Ward! shall sing in thee.
Thee shall each ale house, thee each gill house mourn,
And answ’ring gin shops sourer sighs return.
‘Jacob, the scourge of Grammar, mark with awe,
150 Nor less revere him, blunderbuss of Law.
Lo Popple’s brow, tremendous to the town,
Horneck’s fierce eye, and Roome’s funereal frown.
Lo sneering Goode, half malice and half whim,
A fiend in glee, ridiculously grim.
Each cygnet sweet of Bath and Tunbridge race,
Whose tuneful whistling makes the waters pass:
Each songster, riddler, ev’ry nameless name,
All crowd, who foremost shall be damned to Fame.
Some strain in rhyme; the Muses, on their racks,
160 Scream like the winding of ten thousand jacks;
Some free from rhyme or reason, rule or check,
Break Priscian’s head, and Pegasus’s neck;
Down, down they larum, with impetuous whirl,
The Pindars, and the Miltons of a Curll.
‘Silence, ye wolves! while Ralph to Cynthia howls
And makes Night hideous—answer him, ye owls!
‘Sense, speech, and measure, living tongues and dead,
Let all give way – and Morris may be read.
‘Flow Welsted, flow! like thine inspirer, beer,
170 Though stale, not ripe; though thin, yet never clear;
So sweetly mawkish, and so smoothly dull;
Heady, not strong; o’erflowing, though not full.
‘Ah Dennis! Gildon ah! what ill-starred rage
Divides a friendship long confirmed by age?
Blockheads with reason wicked wits abhor,
But fool with fool is barb’rous civil war.
Embrace, embrace my sons! be foes no more!
Nor glad vile poets with true critics’ gore.
‘Behold yon pair, in strict embraces join’d;
180 How like in manners, and how like in mind!
Equal in wit, and equally polite,
Shall this a Pasquin, that a Grumbler write;
Like are their merits, like rewards they share,
That shines a consul, this commissioner.’
‘But who is he, in closet close y-pent,
Of sober face, with learnèd dust besprent?’
‘Right well mine eyes arede the myster wight,
On parchment scraps y-fed, and Wormius hight.
To future ages may thy dullness last,
190 As thou preserv’st the dullness of the past!
‘There, dim in clouds, the poring scholiasts mark,
Wits, who like owls, see only in the dark,
A lumberhouse of books in ev’ry head,
For ever reading, never to be read!
‘But, where each Science lifts its modern type,
Hist’ry her pot, Divinity her pipe,
While proud Philosophy repines to show,
Dishonest sight! his breeches rent below;
Imbrowned with native bronze, lo! Henley stands,
200 Tuning his voice, and balancing his hands.
How fluent nonsense trickles from his tongue!
How sweet the periods, neither said, nor sung!
Still break the benches, Henley! with thy strain,
While Sherlock, Hare, and Gibson preach in vain.
Oh great restorer of the good old stage,
Preacher at once, and zany of thy age!
Oh worthy thou of Egypt’s wise abodes,
A decent priest, where monkeys were the gods!
But fate with butchers placed thy priestly stall,
210 Meek modern faith to murder, hack, and maul,
And bade thee live, to crown Britannia’s praise,
In Toland’s, Tindal’s, and in Woolston’s days.
‘Yet oh, my sons! a father’s words attend
(So may the fates preserve the ears you lend):
’Tis yours, a Bacon or a Locke to blame,
A Newton’s genius, or a Milton’s flame.
But oh! with One, immortal One dispense,
The source of Newton’s light, of Bacon’s sense!
Content, each emanation of his fires
220 That beams on earth, each virtue he inspires,
Each art he prompts, each charm he can create,
Whate’er he gives, are giv’n for you to hate.
Persist, by all divine in Man unawed,
But, Learn, ye DUNCES! not to scorn your GOD.’
Thus he, for then a ray of reason stole
Half through the solid darkness of his soul;
But soon the cloud returned – and thus the Sire:
‘See now, what Dullness and her sons admire!
See what the charms, that smite the simple heart
230 Not touched by Nature, and not reached by Art.’
His never-blushing head he turned aside
(Not half so pleased when Goodman
prophesied),
And looked, and saw a sable sorc’rer rise,
Swift to whose hand a wingèd volume flies.
All sudden, gorgons hiss, and dragons glare,
And ten-horned friends and giants rush to war.
Hell rises, Heav’n descends, and dance on earth:
Gods, imps, and monsters, music, rage, and mirth,
A fire, a jig, a battle, and a ball,
240 Till one wide conflagration swallows all.
Thence a new world to Nature’s laws unknown
Breaks out refulgent, with a heav’n its own:
Another Cynthia her new journey runs,
And other planets circle other suns.
The forests dance, the rivers upward rise,
Whales sport in woods, and dolphins in the skies;
And last, to give the whole creation grace,
Lo! one vast egg produces human race.
Joy fills his soul, joy innocent of thought;
250 ‘What pow’r,’ he cries, ‘what pow’r these wonders wrought?’
‘Son, what thou seek’st is in thee! Look, and find
Each monster meets his likeness in thy mind.
Yet would’st thou more? In yonder cloud behold,
Whose sarsenet skirts are edged with flamy gold,
A matchless youth! his nod these worlds controls,
Wings the red lightning, and the thunder rolls.
Angel of Dullness, sent to scatter round
Her magic charms o’er all unclassic ground:
Yon stars, yon suns, he rears at pleasure higher,
260 Illumes their light, and sets their flames on fire.
Immortal Rich! how calm he sits at ease
’Mid snows of paper, and fierce hail of peas;
And proud his Mistress’ orders to perform,
Rides in the whirlwind, and directs the storm.
‘But lo! to dark encounter in mid air
New wizards rise; I see my Cibber there!
Booth in his cloudy tabernacle shrined,
On grinning dragons thou shalt mount the wind.
Dire is the conflict, dismal is the din,
270 Here shouts all Drury, there all Lincoln’s Inn;
Contending Theatres our empire raise,
Alike their labours, and alike their praise.
‘And are these wonders, son, to thee unknown?
Unknown to thee? These wonders are thy own.
These, Fate reserved to grace thy reign divine,
Foreseen by me, but ah! withheld from mine.
In Lud’s old walls though long I ruled, renowned
Far as loud Bow’s stupendous bells resound;
Though my own Aldermen conferred the bays,
280 To me committing their eternal praise,
Their full-fed heroes, their pacific may’rs,
Their annual trophies, and their monthly wars;
Though long my party built on me their hopes,
For writing pamphlets, and for roasting Popes;
Yet lo! in me what authors have to brag on!
Reduced at last to hiss in my own dragon.
Avert it Heav’n! that thou, my Cibber, e’er
Should’st wag a serpent-tail in Smithfield Fair!
Like the vile straw that’s blown about the streets,
290 The needy poet sticks to all he meets,
Coached, carted, trod upon, now loose, now fast,
And carried off in some dog’s tail at last.
Happier thy fortunes! like a rolling stone
Thy giddy dullness still shall lumber on;
Safe in its heaviness, shall never stray,
But lick up ev’ry blockhead in the way.
Thee shall the Patriot, thee the courtier taste,
And ev’ry year be duller than the last.
Till raised from booths to theatre, to Court,
300 Her seat imperial Dullness shall transport.
Already Opera prepares the way,
The sure forerunner of her gentle sway:
Let her thy heart, next drabs and dice, engage,
The third mad passion of thy doting age.
Teach thou the warb’ling Polypheme to roar,
And scream thyself as none e’er screamed before!
To aid our cause, if Heav’n thou can’st not bend,
Hell thou shalt move, for Faustus is our friend:
Pluto with Cato thou for this shalt join,
310 And link the Mourning Bride to Proserpine.
Grub Street! thy fall should men and gods conspire.
Thy stage shall stand, ensure it but from fire.
Another Aeschylus appears! prepare
For new abortions, all ye pregnant fair!
In flames, like Semele’s, be brought to bed,
While op’ning Hell spouts wildfire at your head.
‘Now Bavius take the poppy from thy brow,
And place it here! here all ye heroes bow!
This, this is he, foretold by ancient rhymes:
320 Th’ Augustus born to bring Saturnian times.
Signs following signs lead on the mighty year!
See! the dull stars roll round and reappear.
See, see, our own true Phoebus wears the bays!
Our Midas sits Lord Chancellor of plays!
On poets’ tombs see Benson’s titles writ!
Lo! Ambrose Philips is preferred for wit!
See under Ripley rise a new Whitehall,
While Jones’ and Boyle’s united labours fall;
While Wren with sorrow to the grave descends,
330 Gay dies unpensioned with a hundred friends.
Hibernian Politics, O Swift! thy fate,
And Pope’s, ten years to comment and translate.
‘Proceed, great days! till Learning fly the shore,
Till birch shall blush with noble blood no more,
Till Thames see Eton’s sons for ever play,
Till Westminster’s whole year be holiday,
Till Isis’ elders reel, their pupils sport,
And Alma Mater lie dissolved in port!’
‘Enough! enough!’ the raptured Monarch cries;
340 And through the iv’ry gate the vision flies.
Book the Fourth
ARGUMENT
The Poet being, in this Book, to declare the completion of the prophecies mentioned 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 shows 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 observed in the progress of Education; the speech of Aristarchus on this subject. They are driven off by a band of young Gentlemen returned 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 ass
ign 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 adorned, 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, etc., 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.
Yet, yet a moment, one dim ray of light
Indulge, dread Chaos, and eternal Night!
Of darkness visible so much be lent,
As half to show, half veil the deep intent.
Ye Pow’rs! whose Mysteries restored 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 flamed the Dog-star’s unpropitious ray,
10 Smote ev’ry brain, and withered ev’ry bay;
Sick was the sun, the owl forsook his bow’r,
The moon-struck Prophet felt the madding hour:
Then rose the seed of Chaos, and of Night,
To blot out Order, and extinguish Light,
Of dull and venal a new world to mould,
And bring Saturnian days of Lead and Gold.
She mounts the throne; her head a cloud concealed,