That present times have no pretence To virtue, in the noble sense By Greeks and Romans understood, To perish for our country's good.
She named the ancient heroes round, Explained for what they were renowned;Then spoke with censure, or applause, Of foreign customs, rites, and laws;Through nature and through art she ranged, And gracefully her subject changed:
In vain; her hearers had no share In all she spoke, except to stare.
Their judgment was upon the whole, - That lady is the dullest soul -Then tipped their forehead in a jeer, As who should say - she wants it here;She may be handsome, young, and rich, But none will burn her for a witch.
A party next of glittering dames, From round the purlieus of St.James, Came early, out of pure goodwill, To see the girl in deshabille.
Their clamour 'lighting from their chairs, Grew louder, all the way up stairs;At entrance loudest, where they found The room with volumes littered round, Vanessa held Montaigne, and read, Whilst Mrs.Susan combed her head:
They called for tea and chocolate, And fell into their usual chat, Discoursing with important face, On ribbons, fans, and gloves, and lace:
Showed patterns just from India brought, And gravely asked her what she thought, Whether the red or green were best, And what they cost? Vanessa guessed, As came into her fancy first, Named half the rates, and liked the worst.
To scandal next - What awkward thing Was that, last Sunday, in the ring?
I'm sorry Mopsa breaks so fast;
I said her face would never last, Corinna with that youthful air, Is thirty, and a bit to spare.
Her fondness for a certain earl Began, when I was but a girl.
Phyllis, who but a month ago Was married to the Tunbridge beau, I saw coquetting t'other night In public with that odious knight.
They rallied next Vanessa's dress;
That gown was made for old Queen Bess.
Dear madam, let me set your head;
Don't you intend to put on red?
A petticoat without a hoop!
Sure, you are not ashamed to stoop;
With handsome garters at your knees, No matter what a fellow sees.
Filled with disdain, with rage inflamed, Both of herself and sex ashamed, The nymph stood silent out of spite, Nor would vouchsafe to set them right.
Away the fair detractors went, And gave, by turns, their censures vent.
She's not so handsome in my eyes:
For wit, I wonder where it lies.
She's fair and clean, and that's the most;But why proclaim her for a toast?
A baby face, no life, no airs, But what she learnt at country fairs.
Scarce knows what difference is between Rich Flanders lace, and Colberteen.
I'll undertake my little Nancy, In flounces has a better fancy.
With all her wit, I would not ask Her judgment, how to buy a mask.
We begged her but to patch her face, She never hit one proper place;Which every girl at five years old Can do as soon as she is told.
I own, that out-of-fashion stuff Becomes the creature well enough.
The girl might pass, if we could get her To know the world a little better.
(TO KNOW THE WORLD! a modern phrase For visits, ombre, balls, and plays.)Thus, to the world's perpetual shame, The queen of beauty lost her aim, Too late with grief she understood Pallas had done more harm than good;For great examples are but vain, Where ignorance begets disdain.
Both sexes, armed with guilt and spite, Against Vanessa's power unite;To copy her few nymphs aspired;
Her virtues fewer swains admired;
So stars, beyond a certain height, Give mortals neither heat nor light.
Yet some of either sex, endowed With gifts superior to the crowd, With virtue, knowledge, taste, and wit, She condescended to admit;With pleasing arts she could reduce Men's talents to their proper use;And with address each genius hold To that wherein it most excelled;Thus making others' wisdom known, Could please them and improve her own.
A modest youth said something new, She placed it in the strongest view.
All humble worth she strove to raise;
Would not be praised, yet loved to praise.
The learned met with free approach, Although they came not in a coach.
Some clergy too she would allow, Nor quarreled at their awkward bow.
But this was for Cadenus' sake;
A gownman of a different make.
Whom Pallas, once Vanessa's tutor, Had fixed on for her coadjutor.
But Cupid, full of mischief, longs To vindicate his mother's wrongs.
On Pallas all attempts are vain;
One way he knows to give her pain;
Vows on Vanessa's heart to take Due vengeance, for her patron's sake.
Those early seeds by Venus sown, In spite of Pallas, now were grown;And Cupid hoped they would improve By time, and ripen into love.
The boy made use of all his craft, In vain discharging many a shaft, Pointed at colonels, lords, and beaux;Cadenus warded off the blows, For placing still some book betwixt, The darts were in the cover fixed, Or often blunted and recoiled, On Plutarch's morals struck, were spoiled.
The queen of wisdom could foresee, But not prevent the Fates decree;And human caution tries in vain To break that adamantine chain.
Vanessa, though by Pallas taught, By love invulnerable thought, Searching in books for wisdom's aid, Was, in the very search, betrayed.
Cupid, though all his darts were lost, Yet still resolved to spare no cost;He could not answer to his fame The triumphs of that stubborn dame, A nymph so hard to be subdued, Who neither was coquette nor prude.
I find, says he, she wants a doctor, Both to adore her, and instruct her:
I'll give her what she most admires, Among those venerable sires.
Cadenus is a subject fit, Grown old in politics and wit;Caressed by Ministers of State, Of half mankind the dread and hate.
Whate'er vexations love attend, She need no rivals apprehend Her sex, with universal voice, Must laugh at her capricious choice.
Cadenus many things had writ, Vanessa much esteemed his wit, And called for his poetic works!
Meantime the boy in secret lurks.
And while the book was in her hand, The urchin from his private stand Took aim, and shot with all his strength A dart of such prodigious length, It pierced the feeble volume through, And deep transfixed her bosom too.
