Part 5



SHE said: the pitying Audience melt in Tears,

But _Fate_ and _Jove_ had stopp'd the _Baron_'s Ears.

In vain _Thalestris_ with Reproach assails,

For who can move when fair _Belinda_ fails?

Not half to fixt the _Trojan_* cou'd remain,

While _Anna_ begg'd and _Dido_ rag'd in vain.

Then grave _Clarissa_ graceful wav'd her Fan;

Silence ensu'd, and thus the Nymph began.

  Say, why are Beauties prais'd and honour'd most,

The wise Man's Passion, and the vain Man's Toast?	5.10

Why deck'd with all that Land and Sea afford,

Why Angels call'd, and Angel-like ador'd?

Why round our Coaches crowd the white-glov'd Beaus,

Why bows the Side-box from its inmost Rows?

How vain are all these Glories, all our Pains,

Unless good Sense preserve what Beauty gains:

That Men may say, when we the Front-box grace,

Behold the first in Virtue, as in Face!

Oh! if to dance all Night, and dress all Day,

Charm'd the Small-pox, or chas'd old Age away;		5.20

Who would not scorn what Huswife's Cares produce,

Or who would learn one earthly Thing of Use?

To patch, nay ogle, might become a Saint,

Nor could it sure be such a Sin to paint.

But since, alas! frail Beauty must decay,

Curl'd or uncurl'd, since Locks will turn to grey,

Since paint'd, or not paint'd, all shall fade,

And she who scorns a Man, must die a Maid;

What then remains, but well our Pow'r to use,

And keep good Humour still whate'er we lose?		5.30

And trust me, Dear! good Humour can prevail,

When Airs, and Flights, and Screams, and Scolding fail.

Beauties in vain their pretty Eyes may roll;

Charms strike the Sight, but Merit wins the Soul.

  So spake the Dame, but no Applause ensu'd;

_Belinda_ frown'd, _Thalestris_ call'd her Prude.

To Arms, to Arms! the fierce Virago cries,

And swift as Lightning to the Combate flies.

All side in Parties, and begin th' Attack;

Fans clap, Silks russle, and tough Whalebones crack;	5.40

Heroes and Heroins Shouts confus'dly rise,

And base, and treble Voices strike the Skies.

No common Weapons in their Hands are found,

Like Gods they fight, nor dread a mortal Wound.



  So when bold _Homer_ makes the Gods engage,

And heav'nly Breasts with human Passions rage;

'Gainst _Pallas, Mars; Latona, Hermes_ arms;

And all _Olympus_ rings with loud Alarms.

_Jove_'s Thunder roars, Heav'n trembles all around;

Blue _Neptune_ storms, the bellowing Deeps resound;	5.50

_Earth_ shakes her nodding Tow'rs, the Ground gives way;

And the pale Ghosts start at the Flash of Day!



  Triumphant _Umbriel_ on a Sconce's Height

Clapt his glad Wings, and sate to view the Fight,

Propt on their Bodkin Spears, the Sprights survey

The growing Combat, or assist the Fray.

  While thro' the Press enrag'd _Thalestries_ flies,

And scatters Deaths around from both her Eyes,

A _Beau_ and _Witling_ perish'd in the Throng,

One dy'd in _Metaphor_, and one in _Song_.		5.60

_O cruel Nymph! a living Death I bear_,

Cry'd _Dapperwit_, and sunk beside his Chair.

A mournful Glance Sir _Fopling_ upwards cast,

_Those Eyes are made so killing_---was his last:

Thus on _Meander_'s flow'ry Margin lies

Th' expiring Swan, and as he sings he dies.



  When bold Sir _Plume_ had drawn _Clarissa_ down,

_Chloe_ stept in, and kill'd him with a Frown;

She smil'd to see the doughty Hero slain,

But at her Smile, the Beau reviv'd again.		5.70



  Now _Jove_ suspends his golden Scales in Air,

Weighs the Mens Wits against the Lady's Hair;

The doubtful Beam long nods from side to side;

At length the Wits mount up, the Hairs subside.



  See fierce _Belinda_ on the _Baron_ flies,

With more than usual Lightning in her Eyes;

Nor fear'd the Chief th' unequal Fight to try,

Who sought no more than on his Foe to die.

But this bold Lord, with manly Strength indu'd,

She with one Finger and a Thumb subdu'd,		5.80

Just where the Breath of Life his Nostrils drew,

A Charge of _Snuff_ the wily Virgin threw;

The _Gnomes_ direct, to ev'ry Atome just,

The pungent Grains of titillating Dust.

Sudden, with starting Tears each Eye o'erflows,

And the high Dome re-ecchoes to his Nose.



  Now meet thy Fate, incens'd _Belinda_ cry'd,

And drew a deadly _Bodkin_ from her Side.

(The same, his ancient Personage to deck,

Her great great Grandsire wore about his Neck		5.90

In three _Seal-Rings_; which after, melted down,

Form'd a vast _Buckle_ for his Widow's Gown:

Her infant Grandame's _Whistle_ next it grew,

The _Bells_ she gingled, and the _Whistle_ blew;

Then in a _Bodkin_ grac'd her Mother's Hairs,

Which long she wore, and now _Belinda_ wears.)



  Boast not my Fall (he cry'd) insulting Foe!

Thou by some other shalt be laid as low.

Nor think, to die dejects my lofty Mind;

All that I dread, is leaving you behind!		5.100

Rather than so, ah let me still survive,

And burn in _Cupid_'s Flames,---but burn alive.



  _Restore the Lock_! she cries; and all around

_Restore the Lock_! the vaulted Roofs rebound.

Not fierce _Othello_ in so loud a Strain

Roar'd for the Handkerchief that caus'd his Pain.

But see how oft Ambitious Aims are cross'd,

And Chiefs contend 'till all the Prize is lost!

The Lock, obtain'd with Guilt, and kept with Pain,

In ev'ry place is sought, but sought in vain:		5.110

With such a Prize no Mortal must be blest,

So Heav'n decrees! with Heav'n who can contest?



  Some thought it mounted to the Lunar Sphere,

Since all things lost on Earth, are treasur'd there.

There Heroe's Wits are kept in pondrous Vases,

And Beau's in _Snuff-boxes_ and _Tweezer-Cases_.

There broken Vows, and Death-bed Alms are found,

And Lovers Hearts with Ends of Riband bound;

The Courtiers Promises, and Sick Man's Pray'rs,

The Smiles of Harlots, and the Tears of Heirs,		5.120

Cages for Gnats, and Chains to Yoak a Flea;

Dry'd Butterflies, and Tomes of Casuistry.



  But trust the Muse---she saw it upward rise,

Tho' mark'd by none but quick Poetic Eyes:

(So _Rome_'s great Founder* to the Heav'ns withdrew,

To _Proculus_ alone confess'd in view.)

A sudden Star, it shot thro' liquid Air,

And drew behind a radiant _Trail of Hair_.

Not _Berenice_'s Locks* first rose so bright,

The heav'ns bespangling with dishevel'd light.		5.130

The _Sylphs_ behold it kindling as it flies,

And pleas'd pursue its Progress thro' the Skies.



  This the _Beau-monde_ shall from the _Mall_* survey,

And hail with Musick its propitious Ray.

This, the blest Lover shall for _Venus_ take,

And send up Vows from _Rosamonda_'s Lake*.

This _Partridge_* soon shall view in cloudless Skies,

When next he looks thro' _Galilaeo_'s Eyes;

And hence th' Egregious Wizard shall foredoom

The Fate of _Louis_, and the Fall of _Rome_.	5.140



  Then cease, bright Nymph! to mourn the ravish'd Hair

Which adds new Glory to the shining Sphere!

Not all the Tresses that fair Head can boast

Shall draw such Envy as the Lock you lost.

For, after all the Murders of your Eye,

When, after Millions slain, your self shall die;

When those fair Suns shall sett, as sett they must,

And all those Tresses shall be laid in Dust;

_This Lock_, the Muse shall consecrate to Fame,

And mid'st the Stars inscribe _Belinda_'s Name!		5.150



5. Aeneas  125. Romulus, according to the report of Livy 129. A lock of 

Berenice's hair was transformed into a constellation.  133. Pall Mall  

134. a pond in St. James's Park, London  137. a popular astrologer

.