IX.

Ah! doft thou not envy the brave Col❜nel Charters*, Condemn'd for thy crime at threefcore and ten? 50 To hang him all England would lend him their gar

ters;

Yet he lives, and is ready to ravish again. Then throttle thyfelf with an ell of ftrong tape, For thou haft not a groat to atone for a rape.

X.

The Dean he was vex'd, that his whores were fo wil

ling:

55

He long'd for a girl that would struggle and fquall; He ravish'd her fairly, and fav'd a good fhilling;

But here was to pay the dev'l and all.

His trouble and forrows now come in a heap,
And hang'd he must be for committing a rape.

XI.

If maidens are ravish'd, it is their own choice;

Why are they fo wilful to ftruggle with men ? If they would but lie quiet, and ftifle their voice,

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No devil nor dean could ravish 'em then ; Nor would there be need of a ftrong hempen cape 65 'Ty'd round the Dean's neck for committing a rape.

XII.

Our church and our ftate dear England maintains,
For which all true Proteftant hearts should be glad ;
She fends us our bishops, and judges, and deans;
And better would give us, if better she had.
But, Lord, how the rabble will starve and will gape,
When the good English Dean is hang'd up for a rape!

See above p. 214.

70

་

THE LADY'S DRESSING-ROOM:*:

Written in the year 1730.

FIVE hours (and who can do it lefs in ?)
By haughty Cælia spent in dreffing;
The goddess from her chamber iffues,
Array'd in lace, brocades, and tissues.
Strephon, who found the room was void,
And Betty otherwise employ'd,
Stole in, and took a strict survey

Of all the litter as it lay :

Whereof, to make the matter clear,.
An inventory follows here.

AND, firft, a dirty fmock appear'd,
Beneath the arm-pits well befmear'd,
Strephon, the rogue, display'd it wide,
And turn'd it round on ev'ry fide:
In fuch a cafe few words are beft,
And Strephon bids us guefs the reft;
But fwears, how damnably the men lie
In calling Cælia fweet and cleanly.

Now liften, while he next produces
The various combs for various uses;
Fill'd up with dist fo clofely fixt,
No brush could force a way betwixt ;

Gg3

5

10

20

No charge has been more frequently brought againft the Dean, or indeed more generally admitted, than that of coarte indelicacy, of which this poem is always produced as an inftance. Here then it is but juftice to remark, that whenever he offends against delicacy, he teaches it; he ftimulates the mind to fenfibility, to correct the faults of habitual negligence; as phyficians, to cure a lethargy, have recourfe to a blifter. And tho' it may reafonably be fuppofed, that few English ladies leave fuch a dreffing room as Calia's, yet many may have given futficient caufe for reminding them, that very foon after defire has been gratified, the utmost delicacy becomes neceffary to prevent difguft. See a defence of this poem in vol. iv. p. 318. Hawkef

A paste of compofition rare,

Sweat, dandriff, powder, lead, and hair.
A forehead-cloth, with oil upon't,

To smooth the wrinkles on her front:
Here allum-flower to ftop the fteams
Exhal'd from four unfav'ry streams:

There night-gloves made of Tripfey's hide,
Bequeath'd by Tripfey when she dy'd;

With puppy-water beauty's help,
Distill'd from Tripfey's darling whelp.
Here galley-pots and vials plac'd,

Some fill'd with washes, fome with paste;
Some with pomatums, paints, and flops,
And ointments good for fcabby chaps.
Hard by a filthy bason stands,
Foul'd with the scouring of her hands;
The bafon takes whatever comes,

The fcrapings from her teeth and gums,
A nafty compound of all hues,

40

For here the fpits and here fhe fpues.

BUT Oh! it turn'd poor Strephon's bowels, When he beheld and smelt the towels,

Begumm'd, bematter.d, and beflim'd,

45

With dirt and sweat, and ear-wax grim'd.
No object Strephon's eye escapes;
Here petticoats in frowzy heaps;
Nor be the handkerchiefs forgot,

All varnish'd o'er with fnuff and fnot,
The ftockings why fhould I expose,
Stain'd with the moisture of her toes;
Or greafy coifs, or pinners reeking,
Which Calia flept at least a week in?
A pair of tweezers next he found,
To pluck her brows in arches round;
Or hairs that fink the forehead low,
Or on her chin like bristles grow.

50

55

THE virtues we must not let pass

of Calia's magnifying glass ; .

When frighted Strephon caft his eye on't,

It fhew'd the visage of a giant:

60

A glafs that can to fight difclofe
The smallest worm in Cælia's nose,
And faithfully direct her nail

65

To fqueeze it out from head to tail;
For catch it nicely by the head,

It must come out, alive or dead.

WHY, Strephon, will you tell the rest ; And muft you needs defcribe the cheft?

70

That carelefs wench! no creature warn her
To move it out from yonder corner;
But leave it ftanding full in fight,
For you to exercise your spite?
In vain the workman fhew'd his wit,
With rings and hinges counterfeit,
To make it feem in this disguise
A cabinet to vulgar eyes,

Which Strephon ventur'd to look in,
Refolv'd to go thro' thick and thin.

He lifts the lid: there needs no more,

He fmelt it all the time before.

As, from within Pandora's box,
When Epimetheus op'd the locks,
A fudden univerfal crew
Of human evils upward flew;
He ftill was comforted to find
That hope at last remain'd behind:
So Strephon lifting up the lid,
To view what in the cheft was hid,
The vapours flew from out the vent;
But Strephon, cautious, never meant
The bottom of the pan to grope,
And foul his hands in fearch of hope.

O! ne'er may fuch a vile machine
Be once in Cælia's chamber feen!
O! may she better learn to keep
Thofe secrets of the hoary deep t!

As mutton cutlets, prime of meat‡,
Which, tho' with art you falt and beat,
As laws of cookery require,

And roaft them at the cleareft fire;
If from adown || the hopeful chops,
The fat upon a cinder drops,

To ftinking fmoke it turns the flame,
Pois'ning the flesh from whence it came,
And up exhales a greafy stench,
For which you curfe the careless wench:
So things which must not be expreft,
When plumpt into the reeking cheft
Send up an excremental fmell,

To taint the parts from whence they fell ;

The petticoats and gown perfume,
And waft a stink round ev'ry room.
THUS finishing his grand furvey,
The fwain difgufted flunk away;
Repeating in his am'rous fits,

66

Oh! Cælia, Cælia, Calia fh-."

BUT Vengeance, goddess never fleeping, Soon punish'd Strephon for his peeping:

His foul imagination links

Each dame he sees with all her stinks;
And, if unfav'ry odours fly,
Conceives a lady ftanding by.
All women his description fits,
And both ideas jump like wits;
By vitious fancy coupled fast,
And ftill appearing in contraft.
+ Milton.
Vid. D-n D's works, and N. P--y's.

Prima virorura.

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