POEMS FROM LADY MARY WORTLEY MONTAGU (1689-1762) The Reasons that Induced Dr S to write a Poem called The Lady's Dressing Room The Doctor in a clean starched band, His golden snuffbox in his hand, With care his diamond ring displays And artful shews its various rays, While grave he stalks down----Street His dearest----to meet. Long had he waited for this hour, Nor gained admittance to the bower; Had joked and punned, and swore and writ, Tried all his gallantry and wit; 10 Had told her oft what part he bore In Oxford's schemes in days of yore, But bawdy, politics nor satire Could move this dull hard-hearted creature. Jenny her maid could taste a rhyme And, grieved to see him lose his time, Had kindly whispered in his ear, "For twice two pound you enter here: My Lady vows that without that sum It is in vain you write or come." 20 The destined offering now he brought And in a paradise of thought With a low bow approached the dame, Who smiling heard him preach his flame. His gold she takes (such proofs as these Convince most unbelieving shes) And in her trunk rose up to lock it (Too wise to trust it in her pocket) And then, returned with blushing grace, Expects the Doctor's warm embrace. 30 But now this is the proper place Where morals stare me in the face, And, for the sake of fine expression, I'm forced to make a small digression. Alas for wretched humankind, With learning mad, with wisdom blind! The ox thinks he's for saddle fit (As long ago friend Horace writ); And men their talents still mistaking, The stutterer fancies his is speaking. 40 With admiration oft we see Hard features heightened by toupee; The beau affects the politician; Wit is the citizen's ambition; Poor Pope philosophy displays on With so much rhyme and little reason, And, though he argues ne'er so long That all is right, his head is wrong. None strive to know their proper merit, But strain for wisdom, beauty, spirit 50 And lose the praise that is their due While they've the impossible in view: So have I seen the injudicious heir To add one window the whole house impair. Nature to every thing alive Points out the path to shine or thrive, But man, vain man, who grasps the whole Shews in all heads a touch of fool. Instinct the hound does better teach Who never undertook to preach; 60 The frighted hare from dogs does run But not attempts to bear a gun. --Here many noble thoughts occur, But I prolixity abhor And will pursue th' instructive tale To shew the wise in some things fail. The reverend lover with surprise Peeps in her bubbies and her eyes, And kisses both, and tries--and tries. The evening in this hellish play, 70 Beside his guineas, thrown away, Provoked the priest to that degree, He swore, "The fault is not [in] me. Your damned close-stool so near my nose, Your dirty smock, and stinking toes Would make a Hercules as tame As any beau that you can name." The nymph, grown furious, roared, "By God! The blame lies all in sixty-odd," And, scornfully pointing to the door, 80 Cried, "Fumbler, see my face no more." "With all my heart I'll go away, But nothing, I'll nothing pay. Give back the money."--"How," cried she, "Would you palm such a cheat on me! I locked it in the trunk stands there And break it open if you dare. For poor 4 pound to roar and bellow, Why sure you want some new prunella? What, if your verses have not sold, 90 Must therefore I return your gold? Perhaps you have no better luck in The knack of rhyming than of------. I won't give back one single crown, To wash your band or turn your gown. I'll be revenged, you saucy queen," Replies the disappointed Dean; "I'll so describe your dressing room The very Irish shall not come." She answered short, "I'm glad you'll write; 100 You'll furnish paper when I shite." Notes: 38. Epistles, Book I:14, line 43. 45. Pope, Essay on Man. 79. Swift was sixty-four when he wrote "The Lady's Dressing Room." 89. The cloth of parson's gowns; also, suggestive of a woman's name. ------------------------------------------------------- From THE TOWN ECOLOGUES Tuesday: St James's Coffee-house: Silliander and Patch Thou who so many favors hast received, Wondrous to tell and hard to be believed, Oh H[owar]d, to my lays attention lend: Hear how two lovers boastingly contend, Like thee successful, such their bloomy youth, Renowned alike for gallantry and truth. St James's bell had tolled some wretches in, As tattered riding hoods alone could sin, The happier sinners now their charms recruit And to their manteaus their complexions suit. 10 The opera queens had finished half their faces And city dames already taken places, Fops of all kinds to see the lion run; The beauties wait till the first act's begun, And beaux step home to put fresh linen on. No well-dressed youth in coffee house remained, But pensive Patch, who on the window leaned, And Silliander, that alert and gay, First picked his teeth and then began to say. Silliander Why all these sighs, ah why so pensive grown? 20 Some cause there is that thus you sit alone. Does hopeless passion all this sorrow move? Or dost thou Envy where the ladies love? Patch If whom they love my envy must pursue, 'Tis sure at least I never envy you. Silliander No, I'm unhappy, you are in the right; 'Tis you they favor, and 'tis me they slight. Yet I could tell--but that I hate to boast-- A club of ladies, where 'tis me they toast. Patch Toasting does seldom any favor prove, 30 Like us they never toast the thing they love. A certain duke one night my health begun-- With cheerful pledges round the room it run-- Till the young Silvia, pressed to drink it too, Started and vowed she knew not what to do: What, drink a fellow's health! she died with shame, Yet blushed when ever she pronounced my name. Silliander Ill fate pursue me; may I never find The dice propitious or the ladies kind; If fair Miss Flippy's fan I did not tear, 40 And one from me she condescends to wear. Patch Women are always ready to receive; 'Tis then a favor when the sex will give. A lady (but she is too great to name, Beauteous in person, spotless in her fame) With gentle strugglings let me force this ring, Another day may give another thing. Silliander I could say something--see this billet doux-- And as for presents--look upon my shoe-- These buckles were not forced and half a theft, 50 But a young countess fondly made the gift. Patch My countess is more nice, more artful too, Affects to fly, that I may fierce pursue. This snuffbox, while I begged, she still denied, And when I strove to snatch it, seemed to hide, She laughed, and fled, and as I sought to seize With affectation crammed it down her stays: Yet hoped she did not place it there unseen; I pressed her breasts and pulled it from between. Silliander Last night as I stood ogling of her grace, 60 Drinking delicious poison from her face, The soft enchantress did that face decline Nor ever raised her eyes to meet with mine; With sudden art some secret did pretend, Leaned cross two chairs to whisper to a friend, While the stiff whalebone with the motion rose And thousand beauties to my sight expose. Patch Early this morn (but I was asked to come) I drunk bohea in Celia's dressing room: Warm from her bed, to me alone within, 70 Her nightgown fastened with a single pin, Her nightclothes tumbled with resistless grace And her bright hair played careless round her face. Reaching the kettle made her gown unpin; She wore no waistcoat and her shift was thin. Silliander See Titiana driving to the park. Haste, let us follow; 'tis not yet too dark; In her all beauties of the spring are seen: Her cheeks are rosy, and her mantua green. Patch See, Tintoretta to the opera goes. 80 Haste, or the crowd will not permit our bows; In her the glory of the heavens we view: Her eyes are star-like, and her mantua blue. Silliander What color does in Celias's stockings shine? Reveal that secret and the prize is thine. Patch What are her garters? tell me if you can: I'll freely own thee for the happy man. Thus Patch continued his heroic strain, While Silliander but contends in vain. After a conquest so important gained 90 Unrivalled Patch in every ruelle reigned. (written 1716; pub. 1747) Notes: Title: Silliander: John Campbell (c.1693-1770); Duke of Argyll, 1761; Patch: Algernon Seymour (1684-1750), Duke of Somerset, 1748. 3. Identified as Charles Howard, son of third Earl of Carlisle. 7. The time is after 5 in the afternoon. 12. Curtain time was 6 P.M. 13. Alluding to a famous scene in Mancini's opera, Hydaspes, where the hero kills a lion. 15. change to evening clothes. 48. love letter. 76; 80. Names derived from the Venetian painters Titian and Tintoretto: suggestive, depending on viewpoint, of great beauty or painted faces. 91. The private reception room/bedroom of a fashionable woman. Saturday: The Smallpox: Flavia There was a time (oh! that I could forget!) When opera-tickets pour'd before my feet; And at the Ring, where brightest beauties shine, The earliest cherries of the spring were mine. 5 Witness, O Lilly, and thou, Motteux,* tell, How much japan these eyes have made ye sell. With what contempt ye saw me oft despise The humble offer of the raffled prize; For at each raffle still each prize I bore, 10 With scorn rejected, or with triumph wore! Now beauty's fled, and presents are no more! For me the patriot has the House forsook, And left debates to catch a passing look: For me the soldier has soft verses writ: 15 For me the beau has aim'd to be a wit. For me the wit to nonsense was betray'd; The gamester has for me his dun delay'd, And overseen the card he would have play'd. The bold and haughty, by success made vain, 20 Aw'd by my eyes have trembled to complain: The bashful 'squire, touch'd by a wish unknown, Has dar'd to speak with spirit not his own: Fir'd by one wish, all did alike adore; Now beauty's fled, and lovers are no more! 25 As round the room I turn my weeping eyes, New unaffected scenes of sorrow rise. Far from my sight that killing picture bear, The face disfigure, and the canvas tear: That picture which with pride I us'd to show, 30 The lost resemblance that upbraids me now. And thou, my toilette! where I oft have sat, While hours unheeded pass'd in deep debate How curls should fall, or where a patch to place; If blue on scarlet best became my face: 35 Now on some happier nymph your aid bestow; On fairer heads, ye useless jewels, glow! No borrow'd lustre can my charms restore; Beauty is fled, and dress is now no more! Ye meaner beauties, I permit ye shine; 40 Go, triumph in the hearts that once were mine: But, 'midst your triumphs with confusion know, 'Tis to my ruin all your charms ye owe. Would pitying Heav'n restore my wonted mien, Ye still might move unthought of and unseen: 45 But oh, how vain, how wretched is the boast Of beauty faded, and of empire lost! What now is left but, weeping, to deplore My beauty fled, and empire now no more! Ye cruel chemists, what withheld your aid? 50 Could no pomatum save a trembling maid? How false and trifling is that art ye boast! No art can give me back my beauty lost. In tears, surrounded by my friends, I lay Mask'd o'er, and trembled at the sight of day; 55 Mirmillio came my fortune to deplore (A golden-headed cane well carv'd he bore), Cordials, he cried, my spirits must restore! Beauty is fled, and spirit is no more! Galen, the grave officious Squirt was there.* 60 With fruitless grief and unavailing care; Machaon too, the great Machaon, known By his red cloak and his superior frown; And why, he cried, this grief and this despair? You shall again be well, again be fair; 65 Believe my oath (with that an oath he swore); False was his oath; my beauty was no more! Cease, hapless maid, no more thy tale pursue, Forsake mankind, and bid the world adieu! Monarchs and beauties rule with equal sway: 70 All strive to serve, and glory to obey: Alike unpitied when depos'd they grow, Men mock the idol of their former vow. Adieu! ye parks--in some obscure recess, Where gentle streams will weep at my distress, 75 Where no false friend will in my grief take part, And mourn my ruin with a joyful heart; There let me live in some deserted place, There hide in shades this lost inglorious face. Plays, operas, circles, I no more must view! 80 My toilette, patches,* all the world adieu!" 5. Men who combined literary pursuits with selling Asian knick-knacks. 5. Fine enamelware. 59. Attendant physicians. 80. Artificial beauty marks.