The Poems of Jonathan Swift, D.D., Volume 2 | Page 4

the thrifty goddess?(For fear young master should be spoil'd)?Would use him like a younger child;?And, after long computing, found?'Twould come to just five thousand pound.?The Queen of Love was pleased, and proud,?To see Vanessa thus endow'd:?She doubted not but such a dame?Through every breast would dart a flame,?That every rich and lordly swain?With pride would drag about her chain;?That scholars would forsake their books,?To study bright Vanessa's looks;?As she advanced, that womankind?Would by her model form their mind,?And all their conduct would be tried?By her, as an unerring guide;?Offending daughters oft would hear?Vanessa's praise rung in their ear:?Miss Betty, when she does a fault,?Lets fall her knife, or spills the salt,?Will thus be by her mother chid,?"a€?Tis what Vanessa never did!"?Thus by the nymphs and swains adored,?My power shall be again restored,?And happy lovers bless my reign--?So Venus hoped, but hoped in vain.?For when in time the Martial Maid?Found out the trick that Venus play'd,?She shakes her helm, she knits her brows,?And, fired with indignation, vows,?To-morrow, ere the setting sun,?She'd all undo that she had done.?But in the poets we may find?A wholesome law, time out of mind,?Had been confirm'd by Fate's decree,?That gods, of whatsoe'er degree,?Resume not what themselves have given,?Or any brother god in Heaven:?Which keeps the peace among the gods,?Or they must always be at odds:?And Pallas, if she broke the laws,?Must yield her foe the stronger cause;?A shame to one so much adored?For wisdom at Jove's council-board.?Besides, she fear'd the Queen of Love?Would meet with better friends above.?And though she must with grief reflect,?To see a mortal virgin deck'd?With graces hitherto unknown?To female breasts, except her own:?Yet she would act as best became?A goddess of unspotted fame.?She knew, by augury divine,?Venus would fail in her design:?She studied well the point, and found?Her foe's conclusions were not sound,?From premises erroneous brought,?And therefore the deduction's naught,?And must have contrary effects,?To what her treacherous foe expects.?In proper season Pallas meets?The Queen of Love, whom thus she greets,?(For gods, we are by Homer told,?Can in celestial language scold:)--?Perfidious goddess! but in vain?You form'd this project in your brain;?A project for your talents fit,?With much deceit and little wit.?Thou hast, as thou shall quickly see,?Deceived thyself, instead of me;?For how can heavenly wisdom prove?An instrument to earthly love??Know'st thou not yet, that men commence?Thy votaries for want of sense??Nor shall Vanessa be the theme?To manage thy abortive scheme:?She'll prove the greatest of thy foes;?And yet I scorn to interpose,?But, using neither skill nor force,?Leave all things to their natural course.?The goddess thus pronounced her doom:?When, lo! Vanessa in her bloom?Advanced, like Atalanta's star,?But rarely seen, and seen from far:?In a new world with caution slept,?Watch'd all the company she kept,?Well knowing, from the books she read,?What dangerous paths young virgins tread:?Would seldom at the Park appear,?Nor saw the play-house twice a year;?Yet, not incurious, was inclined?To know the converse of mankind.?First issued from perfumers' shops,?A crowd of fashionable fops:?They ask'd her how she liked the play;?Then told the tattle of the day;?A duel fought last night at two,?About a lady--you know who;?Mention'd a new Italian, come?Either from Muscovy or Rome;?Gave hints of who and who's together;?Then fell to talking of the weather;?Last night was so extremely fine,?The ladies walk'd till after nine:?Then, in soft voice and speech absurd,?With nonsense every second word,?With fustian from exploded plays,?They celebrate her beauty's praise;?Run o'er their cant of stupid lies,?And tell the murders of her eyes.?With silent scorn Vanessa sat,?Scarce listening to their idle chat;?Farther than sometimes by a frown,?When they grew pert, to pull them down.?At last she spitefully was bent?To try their wisdom's full extent;?And said, she valued nothing less?Than titles, figure, shape, and dress;?That merit should be chiefly placed?In judgment, knowledge, wit, and taste;?And these, she offer'd to dispute,?Alone distinguish'd man from brute:?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,?Explain'd for what they were renown'd;?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 tapt 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 good will,?To see the girl in dishabille.?Their clamour, 'lighting from their chairs?Grew louder all the way up stairs;?At entrance loudest, where they found?The room with volumes litter'd round.?Vanessa held Montaigne, and read,?While Mrs. Susan comb'd her head.?They call'd for tea and chocolate,?And fell into their usual chat,?Discoursing with important face,?On ribbons, fans, and gloves, and lace;?Show'd patterns just