Part 6

The same great truth South Sea hath proved On that famed theatre, the ally, Where thousands by directors moved Are now sad monuments of folly.

What Momus was of old to Jove The same harlequin is now; The former was buffoon above, The latter is a Punch below.

This fleeting scene is but a stage, Where various images appear, In different parts of youth and age Alike the prince and peasant share.

Some draw our eyes by being great, False pomp conceals mere wood within, And legislators rang'd in state Are oft but wisdom in machine.

A stock may chance to wear a crown, And timber as a lord take place, A statue may put on a frown, And cheat us with a thinking face.

Others are blindly led away, And made to act for ends unknown, By the mere spring of wires they play, And speak in language not their own.

Too oft, alas! a scolding wife Usurps a jolly fellow's throne, And many drink the cup of life Mix'd and embittered by a Joan.

In short, whatever men pursue Of pleasure, folly, war, or love, This mimic-race brings all to view, Alike they dress, they talk, they move.

Go on, great Stretch, with artful hand, Mortals to please and to deride, And when death breaks thy vital band Thou shalt put on a puppet's pride.

Thou shalt in puny wood be shown, Thy image shall preserve thy fame, Ages to come thy worth shall own, Point at thy limbs, and tell thy name.

Tell Tom he draws a farce in vain, Before he looks in nature's glass; Puns cannot form a witty scene, Nor pedantry for humour pass.

To make men act as senseless wood, And chatter in a mystic strain, Is a mere force on flesh and blood, And shows some error in the brain.

He that would thus refine on thee, And turn thy stage into a school, The jest of Punch will ever be, And stand confessed the greater fool.

CADENUS AND VANESSA.

Written Anno 1713.

The shepherds and the nymphs were seen Pleading before the Cyprian Queen. The counsel for the fair began Accusing the false creature, man.

The brief with weighty crimes was charged, On which the pleader much enlarged: That Cupid now has lost his art, Or blunts the point of every dart; His altar now no longer smokes; His mother's aid no youth invokes-- This tempts free-thinkers to refine, And bring in doubt their powers divine, Now love is dwindled to intrigue, And marriage grown a money-league. Which crimes aforesaid (with her leave) Were (as he humbly did conceive) Against our Sovereign Lady's peace, Against the statutes in that case, Against her dignity and crown: Then prayed an answer and sat down.

The nymphs with scorn beheld their foes: When the defendant's counsel rose, And, what no lawyer ever lacked, With impudence owned all the fact. But, what the gentlest heart would vex, Laid all the fault on t'other sex. That modern love is no such thing As what those ancient poets sing; A fire celestial, chaste, refined, Conceived and kindled in the mind, Which having found an equal flame, Unites, and both become the same, In different breasts together burn, Together both to ashes turn. But women now feel no such fire, And only know the gross desire; Their passions move in lower spheres, Where'er caprice or folly steers. A dog, a parrot, or an ape, Or some worse brute in human shape Engross the fancies of the fair, The few soft moments they can spare From visits to receive and pay, From scandal, politics, and play, From fans, and flounces, and brocades, From equipage and park-parades, From all the thousand female toys, From every trifle that employs The out or inside of their heads Between their toilets and their beds.

In a dull stream, which, moving slow, You hardly see the current flow, If a small breeze obstructs the course, It whirls about for want of force, And in its narrow circle gathers Nothing but chaff, and straws, and feathers: The current of a female mind Stops thus, and turns with every wind; Thus whirling round, together draws Fools, fops, and rakes, for chaff and straws. Hence we conclude, no women's hearts Are won by virtue, wit, and parts; Nor are the men of sense to blame For breasts incapable of flame: The fault must on the nymphs be placed, Grown so corrupted in their taste.

The pleader having spoke his best, Had witness ready to attest, Who fairly could on oath depose, When questions on the fact arose, That every article was true; Nor further those deponents knew: Therefore he humbly would insist, The bill might be with costs dismissed.

The cause appeared of so much weight, That Venus from the judgment-seat Desired them not to talk so loud, Else she must interpose a cloud: For if the heavenly folk should know These pleadings in the Courts below, That mortals here disdain to love, She ne'er could show her face above. For gods, their betters, are too wise To value that which men despise. "And then," said she, "my son and I Must stroll in air 'twixt earth and sky: Or else, shut out from heaven and earth, Fly to the sea, my place of birth; There live with daggled mermaids pent, And keep on fish perpetual Lent."

But since the case appeared so nice, She thought it best to take advice. The Muses, by their king's permission, Though foes to love, attend the session, And on the right hand took their places In order; on the left, the Graces: To whom she might her doubts propose On all emergencies that rose. The Muses oft were seen to frown; The Graces half ashamed look down; And 'twas observed, there were but few Of either sex, among the crew, Whom she or her assessors knew. The goddess soon began to see Things were not ripe for a decree, And said she must consult her books, The lovers' Fletas, Bractons, Cokes. First to a dapper clerk she beckoned, To turn to Ovid, book the second; She then referred them to a place In Virgil (vide Dido's case); As for Tibullus's reports, They never passed for law in Courts: For Cowley's brief, and pleas of Waller, Still their authority is smaller.

There was on both sides much to say; She'd hear the cause another day; And so she did, and then a third, She heard it--there she kept her word; But with rejoinders and replies, Long bills, and answers, stuffed with lies Demur, imparlance, and essoign, The parties ne'er could issue join: For sixteen years the cause was spun, And then stood where it first begun.

Now, gentle Clio, sing or say, What Venus meant by this delay. The goddess, much perplexed in mind, To see her empire thus declined, When first this grand debate arose Above her wisdom to compose, Conceived a project in her head, To work her ends; which, if it sped, Would show the merits of the cause Far better than consulting laws.

In a glad hour Lucina's aid Produced on earth a wondrous maid, On whom the queen of love was bent To try a new experiment. She threw her law-books on the shelf, And thus debated with herself:--

"Since men allege they ne'er can find Those beauties in a female mind Which raise a flame that will endure For ever, uncorrupt and pure; If 'tis with reason they complain, This infant shall restore my reign. I'll search where every virtue dwells, From Courts inclusive down to cells. What preachers talk, or sages write, These I will gather and unite, And represent them to mankind Collected in that infant's mind."

This said, she plucks in heaven's high bowers A sprig of Amaranthine flowers, In nectar thrice infuses bays, Three times refined in Titan's rays: Then calls the Graces to her aid, And sprinkles thrice the now-born maid. From whence the tender skin assumes A sweetness above all perfumes; From whence a cleanliness remains, Incapable of outward stains; From whence that decency of mind, So lovely in a female kind. Where not one careless thought intrudes Less modest than the speech of prudes; Where never blush was called in aid, The spurious virtue in a maid, A virtue but at second-hand; They blush because they understand.

The Graces next would act their part, And show but little of their art; Their work was half already done, The child with native beauty shone, The outward form no help required: Each breathing on her thrice, inspired That gentle, soft, engaging air Which in old times adorned the fair, And said, "Vanessa be the name By which thou shalt be known to fame; Vanessa, by the gods enrolled: Her name on earth--shall not be told."