The Rape of the Lock and Other Major Writings: Poems and Other Writings (Penguin Classics)

by Alexander Pope

And the pressed watch returned a silver sound.

  Belinda still her downy pillow pressed,

  20 Her guardian sylph prolonged the balmy rest:

  ’Twas he had summoned to her silent bed

  The morning-dream that hovered o’er her head.

  A youth more glittering than a birthnight beau

  (That ev’n in slumber caused her cheek to glow)

  Seemed to her ear his winning lips to lay,

  And thus in whispers said, or seemed to say:

  ‘Fairest of mortals, thou distinguished care

  Of thousand bright inhabitants of air!

  If e’er one vision touched thy infant thought,

  30 Of all the nurse and all the priest have taught;

  Of airy elves by moonlight-shadows seen,

  The silver token, and the circled green,

  Or virgins visited by angel pow’rs,

  With golden crowns and wreaths of heavenly flow’rs;

  Hear and believe! thy own importance know,

  Nor bound thy narrow views to things below.

  Some secret truths, from learnèd pride concealed,

  To maids alone and children are revealed.

  What though no credit doubting wits may give?

  40 The fair and innocent shall still believe.

  Know then, unnumbered spirits round thee fly,

  The light militia of the lower sky;

  These, though unseen, are ever on the wing,

  Hang o’er the box, and hover round the ring.

  Think what an equipage thou hast in air,

  And view with scorn two pages and a chair.

  As now your own, our beings were of old,

  And once enclosed in woman’s beauteous mould;

  Thence, by a soft transition, we repair

  50 From earthly vehicles to these of air.

  Think not, when woman’s transient breath is fled,

  That all her vanities at once are dead;

  Succeeding vanities she still regards,

  And, though she plays no more, o’erlooks the cards.

  Her joy in gilded chariots, when alive,

  And love of ombre, after death survive.

  For when the fair in all their pride expire,

  To their first elements their souls retire.

  The sprites of fiery termagants in flame

  60 Mount up, and take a salamander’s name.

  Soft yielding minds to water glide away,

  And sip, with nymphs, their elemental tea.

  The graver prude sinks downward to a gnome,

  In search of mischief still on earth to roam.

  The light coquettes in sylphs aloft repair,

  And sport and flutter in the fields of air.

  ‘Know further yet; whoever fair and chaste

  Rejects mankind, is by some sylph embraced:

  For spirits, freed from mortal laws, with ease

  70 Assume what sexes and what shapes they please.

  What guards the purity of melting maids

  In courtly balls, and midnight masquerades,

  Safe from the treach’rous friend, the daring spark,

  The glance by day, the whisper in the dark;

  When kind occasion prompts their warm desires,

  When music softens, and when dancing fires?

  ’Tis but their sylph, the wise celestials know,

  Though honour is the word with men below.

  ‘Some nymphs there are, too conscious of their face,

  80 For life predestined to the gnomes’ embrace.

  These swell their prospects and exalt their pride

  When offers are disdained, and love denied;

  Then gay ideas crowd the vacant brain,

  While peers, and dukes, and all their sweeping train,

  And garters, stars, and coronets appear,

  And in soft sounds, “Your Grace” salutes their ear.

  ’Tis these that early taint the female soul,

  Instruct the eyes of young coquettes to roll,

  Teach infant-cheeks a bidden blush to know,

  90 And little hearts to flutter at a beau.

  ‘Oft, when the world imagine women stray,

  The sylphs through mystic mazes guide their way;

  Through all the giddy circle they pursue,

  And old impertinence expel by new.

  What tender maid but must a victim fall

  To one man’s treat, but for another’s ball?

  When Florio speaks, what virgin could withstand,

  If gentle Damon did not squeeze her hand?

  With varying vanities, from every part,

  100 They shift the moving toyshop of their heart;

  Where wigs with wigs, with sword-knots sword-knots strive,

  Beaus banish beaus, and coaches coaches drive.

  This erring mortals levity may call;

  Oh blind to truth! the sylphs contrive it all.

  ‘Of these am I, who thy protection claim,

  A watchful sprite, and Ariel is my name.

  Late, as I ranged the crystal wilds of air,

  In the clear mirror of thy ruling star

  I saw, alas! some dread event impend,

  110 Ere to the main this morning sun descend,

  But Heav’n reveals not what, or how or where:

  Warned by the sylph, O pious maid, beware!

  This to disclose is all thy guardian can:

  Beware of all, but most beware of man!’

  He said; when Shock, who thought she slept too long,

  Leaped up, and waked his mistress with his tongue.

  ’Twas then, Belinda, if report say true,

  Thy eyes first opened on a billet-doux;

  ‘Wounds’, ‘charms’, and ‘ardours’ were no sooner read,

  120 But all the vision vanished from thy head.

  And now, unveiled, the toilet stands displayed,

  Each silver vase in mystic order laid.

  First, robed in white, the nymph intent adores,

  With head uncovered, the cosmetic powers.

  A heavenly image in the glass appears,

  To that she bends, to that her eyes she rears;

  Th’ inferior priestess, at her altar’s side,

  Trembling begins the sacred rites of pride.

  Unnumbered treasures ope at once, and here

  130 The various offerings of the world appear;

  From each she nicely culls with curious toil,

  And decks the goddess with the glittering spoil.

  This casket India’s glowing gems unlocks,

  And all Arabia breathes from yonder box.

  The tortoise here and elephant unite,

  Transformed to combs, the speckled and the white.

  Here files of pins extend their shining rows,

  Puffs, powders, patches, Bibles, billet-doux.

  Now awful beauty puts on all its arms;

  140 The fair each moment rises in her charms,

  Repairs her smiles, awakens ev’ry grace,

  And calls forth all the wonders of her face;

  Sees by degrees a purer blush arise,

  And keener lightnings quicken in her eyes.

  The busy sylphs surround their darling care;

  These set the head, and those divide the hair,

  Some fold the sleeve, whilst others plait the gown;

  And Betty’s praised for labours not her own.

  Canto II

  Not with more glories, in th’ ethereal plain,

  The sun first rises o’er the purpled main,

  Than, issuing forth, the rival of his beams

  Launched on the bosom of the silver Thames.

  Fair nymphs and well-dressed youths around her shone,

  But every eye was fixed on her alone.

  On her white breast a sparkling cross she wore,

  Which Jews might kiss, and infidels adore.

  Her lively looks a sprightly mind disclose,

  10 Q
uick as her eyes, and as unfixed as those:

  Favours to none, to all she smiles extends;

  Oft she rejects, but never once offends.

  Bright as the sun, her eyes the gazers strike,

  And, like the sun, they shine on all alike.

  Yet graceful ease, and sweetness void of pride,

  Might hide her faults, if belles had faults to hide;

  If to her share some female errors fall,

  Look on her face, and you’ll forget ’em all.

  This nymph, to the destruction of mankind,

  20 Nourished two locks, which graceful hung behind

  In equal curls, and well conspired to deck

  With shining ringlets the smooth iv’ry neck.

  Love in these labyrinths his slaves detains,

  And mighty hearts are held in slender chains.

  With hairy springes we the birds betray,

  Slight lines of hair surprise the finny prey,

  Fair tresses man’s imperial race ensnare,

  And beauty draws us with a single hair.

  Th’ adv’nturous Baron the bright locks admired;

  30 He saw, he wished, and to the prize aspired.

  Resolved to win, he meditates the way,

  By force to ravish, or by fraud betray;

  For when success a lover’s toil attends,

  Few ask if fraud or force attained his ends.

  For this, ere Phoebus rose, he had implored

  Propitious Heav’n, and ev’ry pow’r adored,

  But chiefly Love – to Love an altar built,

  Of twelve vast French romances, neatly gilt.

  There lay three garters, half a pair of gloves,

  40 And all the trophies of his former loves;

  With tender billet-doux he lights the pyre,

  And breathes three am’rous sighs to raise the fire.

  Then prostrate falls, and begs with ardent eyes

  Soon to obtain, and long possess the prize:

  The pow’rs gave ear, and granted half his prayer,

  The rest the winds dispersed in empty air.

  But now secure the painted vessel glides,

  The sunbeams trembling on the floating tides;

  While melting music steals upon the sky,

  50 And softened sounds along the waters die.

  Smooth flow the waves, the zephyrs gently play,

  Belinda smiled, and all the world was gay.

  All but the sylph – with careful thoughts oppressed,

  Th’ impending woe sat heavy on his breast.

  He summons straight his denizens of air;

  The lucid squadrons round the sails repair:

  Soft o’er the shrouds aerial whispers breathe,

  That seemed but zephyrs to the train beneath.

  Some to the sun their insect-wings unfold,

  60 Waft on the breeze, or sink in clouds of gold;

  Transparent forms too fine for mortal sight,

  Their fluid bodies half dissolved in light,

  Loose to the wind their airy garments flew,

  Thin glittering textures of the filmy dew,

  Dipped in the richest tincture of the skies,

  Where light disports in ever-mingling dyes,

  While ev’ry beam new transient colours flings,

  Colours that change whene’er they wave their wings.

  Amid the circle, on the gilded mast,

  70 Superior by the head, was Ariel placed;

  His purple pinions opening to the sun,

  He raised his azure wand, and thus begun:

  ‘Ye sylphs and sylphids, to your chief give ear!

  Fays, fairies, genii, elves, and demons, hear!

  Ye know the spheres, and various tasks assigned

  By laws eternal to th’ aerial kind.

  Some in the fields of purest aether play,

  And bask and whiten in the blaze of day;

  Some guide the course of wand’ring orbs on high,

  80 Or roll the planets through the boundless sky;

  Some, less refined, beneath the moon’s pale light

  Pursue the stars that shoot athwart the night,

  Or suck the mists in grosser air below,

  Or dip their pinions in the painted bow,

  Or brew fierce tempests on the wintry main,

  Or o’er the glebe distil the kindly rain.

  Others, on earth, o’er human race preside,

  Watch all their ways, and all their actions guide:

  Of these the chief the care of nations own,

  90 And guard with arms divine the British throne.

  ‘Our humbler province is to tend the fair,

  Not a less pleasing, though less glorious care;

  To save the powder from too rude a gale,

  Nor let th’ imprisoned essences exhale;

  To draw fresh colours from the vernal flow’rs;

  To steal from rainbows ere they drop in show’rs

  A brighter wash; to curl their waving hairs,

  Assist their blushes, and inspire their airs;

  Nay oft, in dreams, invention we bestow,

  100 To change a flounce, or add a furbelow.

  ‘This day black omens threat the brightest fair

  That e’er deserved a watchful spirit’s care,

  Some dire disaster, or by force or slight;

  But what, or where, the fates have wrapped in night.

  Whether the nymph shall break Diana’s law,

  Or some frail china jar receive a flaw;

  Or stain her honour, or her new brocade;

  Forget her prayers, or miss a masquerade;

  Or lose her heart, or necklace, at a ball;

  110 Or whether heaven has doomed that Shock must fall.

  Haste, then, ye spirits! to your charge repair:

  The flutt’ring fan be Zephyretta’s care;

  The drops to thee, Brillante, we consign;

  And, Momentilla, let the watch be thine;

  Do thou, Crispissa, tend her favourite lock;

  Ariel himself shall be the guard of Shock.

  ‘To fifty chosen sylphs, of special note,

  We trust th’ important charge, the petticoat;

  Oft have we known that sev’n-fold fence to fail,

  120 Though stiff with hoops, and armed with ribs of whale.

  Form a strong line about the silver bound,

  And guard the wide circumference around.

  ‘Whatever spirit, careless of his charge,

  His post neglects, or leaves the fair at large,

  Shall feel sharp vengeance soon o’ertake his sins,

  Be stopped in vials, or transfixed with pins;

  Or plunged in lakes of bitter washes lie,

  Or wedged whole ages in a bodkin’s eye;

  Gums and pomatums shall his flight restrain,

  130 While clogged he beats his silken wings in vain;

  Or alum styptics with contracting pow’r

  Shrink his thin essence like a rivelled flow’r:

  Or, as Ixion fixed, the wretch shall feel

  The giddy motion of the whirling mill,

  In fumes of burning chocolate shall glow,

  And tremble at the sea that froths below!’

  He spoke; the spirits from the sails descend;

  Some, orb in orb, around the nymph extend;

  Some thread the mazy ringlets of her hair;

  140 Some hang upon the pendants of her ear;

  With beating hearts the dire event they wait,

  Anxious, and trembling for the birth of fate.

  Canto III

  Close by those meads, for ever crowned with flow’rs,

  Where Thames with pride surveys his rising tow’rs,

  There stands a structure of majestic frame,

  Which from the neighbouring Hampton takes its name.

  Here Britain’s statesmen oft the fall foredoom

  Of foreign tyrants, and of nymphs at home;

&
nbsp; Here thou, great Anna! whom three realms obey,

  Dost sometimes counsel take – and sometimes tea.

  Hither the heroes and the nymphs resort,

  10 To taste awhile the pleasures of a court;

  In various talk th’ instructive hours they passed,

  Who gave the ball, or paid the visit last;

  One speaks the glory of the British queen,

  And one describes a charming Indian screen;

  A third interprets motions, looks, and eyes;

  At ev’ry word a reputation dies.

  Snuff, or the fan, supply each pause of chat,

  With singing, laughing, ogling, and all that.

  Meanwhile, declining from the noon of day,

  20 The sun obliquely shoots his burning ray;

  The hungry judges soon the sentence sign,

  And wretches hang that jurymen may dine;

  The merchant from th’ Exchange returns in peace,

  And the long labours of the toilet cease.

  Belinda now, whom thirst of fame invites,

  Burns to encounter two advent’rous knights,

  At ombre singly to decide their doom,

  And swells her breast with conquests yet to come.

  Straight the three bands prepare in arms to join,

  30 Each band the number of the sacred Nine.

  Soon as she spreads her hand, th’ aerial guard

  Descend, and sit on each important card:

  First Ariel perched upon a matadore,

  Then each according to the rank they bore;

  For sylphs, yet mindful of their ancient race,

  Are, as when women, wondrous fond of place.

  Behold, four kings in majesty revered,

  With hoary whiskers and a forky beard;

  And four fair queens, whose hands sustain a flow’r,

  40 Th’ expressive emblem of their softer pow’r;

  Four knaves, in garbs succinct, a trusty band,

  Caps on their heads, and halberts in their hand;

  And particoloured troops, a shining train,

  Draw forth to combat on the velvet plain.

  The skilful nymph reviews her force with care;

  ‘Let spades be trumps!’ she said, and trumps they were.

  Now move to war her sable matadores,

  In show like leaders of the swarthy Moors.

  Spadillio first, unconquerable lord!

  50 Led off two captive trumps, and swept the board.

  As many more Manillio forced to yield,