Part 4 (1/2)
The counsel for the fair began Accusing the false creature, man.
The brief with weighty crimes was charged, On which the pleader much enlarged: That Cupid now has lost his art, Or blunts the point of every dart; His altar now no longer smokes; His mother's aid no youth invokes-- This tempts free-thinkers to refine, And bring in doubt their powers divine, Now love is dwindled to intrigue, And marriage grown a money-league.
Which crimes aforesaid (with her leave) Were (as he humbly did conceive) Against our Sovereign Lady's peace, Against the statutes in that case, Against her dignity and crown: Then prayed an answer and sat down.
The nymphs with scorn beheld their foes: When the defendant's counsel rose, And, what no lawyer ever lacked, With impudence owned all the fact.
But, what the gentlest heart would vex, Laid all the fault on t'other s.e.x.
That modern love is no such thing As what those ancient poets sing; A fire celestial, chaste, refined, Conceived and kindled in the mind, Which having found an equal flame, Unites, and both become the same, In different b.r.e.a.s.t.s together burn, Together both to ashes turn.
But women now feel no such fire, And only know the gross desire; Their pa.s.sions move in lower spheres, Where'er caprice or folly steers.
A dog, a parrot, or an ape, Or some worse brute in human shape Engross the fancies of the fair, The few soft moments they can spare From visits to receive and pay, From scandal, politics, and play, From fans, and flounces, and brocades, From equipage and park-parades, From all the thousand female toys, From every trifle that employs The out or inside of their heads Between their toilets and their beds.
In a dull stream, which, moving slow, You hardly see the current flow, If a small breeze obstructs the course, It whirls about for want of force, And in its narrow circle gathers Nothing but chaff, and straws, and feathers: The current of a female mind Stops thus, and turns with every wind; Thus whirling round, together draws Fools, fops, and rakes, for chaff and straws.
Hence we conclude, no women's hearts Are won by virtue, wit, and parts; Nor are the men of sense to blame For b.r.e.a.s.t.s incapable of flame: The fault must on the nymphs be placed, Grown so corrupted in their taste.
The pleader having spoke his best, Had witness ready to attest, Who fairly could on oath depose, When questions on the fact arose, That every article was true; _Nor further those deponents knew_: Therefore he humbly would insist, The bill might be with costs dismissed.
The cause appeared of so much weight, That Venus from the judgment-seat Desired them not to talk so loud, Else she must interpose a cloud: For if the heavenly folk should know These pleadings in the Courts below, That mortals here disdain to love, She ne'er could show her face above.
For G.o.ds, their betters, are too wise To value that which men despise.
”And then,” said she, ”my son and I Must stroll in air 'twixt earth and sky: Or else, shut out from heaven and earth, Fly to the sea, my place of birth; There live with daggled mermaids pent, And keep on fish perpetual Lent.”
But since the case appeared so nice, She thought it best to take advice.
The Muses, by their king's permission, Though foes to love, attend the session, And on the right hand took their places In order; on the left, the Graces: To whom she might her doubts propose On all emergencies that rose.
The Muses oft were seen to frown; The Graces half ashamed look down; And 'twas observed, there were but few Of either s.e.x, among the crew, Whom she or her a.s.sessors knew.
The G.o.ddess soon began to see Things were not ripe for a decree, And said she must consult her books, The lovers' Fletas, Bractons, c.o.kes.
First to a dapper clerk she beckoned, To turn to Ovid, book the second; She then referred them to a place In Virgil (_vide_ Dido's case); As for Tibullus's reports, They never pa.s.sed for law in Courts: For Cowley's brief, and pleas of Waller, Still their authority is smaller.
There was on both sides much to say; She'd hear the cause another day; And so she did, and then a third, She heard it--there she kept her word; But with rejoinders and replies, Long bills, and answers, stuffed with lies Demur, imparlance, and essoign, The parties ne'er could issue join: For sixteen years the cause was spun, And then stood where it first begun.
Now, gentle Clio, sing or say, What Venus meant by this delay.
The G.o.ddess, much perplexed in mind, To see her empire thus declined, When first this grand debate arose Above her wisdom to compose, Conceived a project in her head, To work her ends; which, if it sped, Would show the merits of the cause Far better than consulting laws.
In a glad hour Lucina's aid Produced on earth a wondrous maid, On whom the queen of love was bent To try a new experiment.
She threw her law-books on the shelf, And thus debated with herself:--
”Since men allege they ne'er can find Those beauties in a female mind Which raise a flame that will endure For ever, uncorrupt and pure; If 'tis with reason they complain, This infant shall restore my reign.
I'll search where every virtue dwells, From Courts inclusive down to cells.
What preachers talk, or sages write, These I will gather and unite, And represent them to mankind Collected in that infant's mind.”
This said, she plucks in heaven's high bowers A sprig of Amaranthine flowers, In nectar thrice infuses bays, Three times refined in t.i.tan's rays: Then calls the Graces to her aid, And sprinkles thrice the now-born maid.
From whence the tender skin a.s.sumes A sweetness above all perfumes; From whence a cleanliness remains, Incapable of outward stains; From whence that decency of mind, So lovely in a female kind.
Where not one careless thought intrudes Less modest than the speech of prudes; Where never blush was called in aid, The spurious virtue in a maid, A virtue but at second-hand; They blush because they understand.
The Graces next would act their part, And show but little of their art; Their work was half already done, The child with native beauty shone, The outward form no help required: Each breathing on her thrice, inspired That gentle, soft, engaging air Which in old times adorned the fair, And said, ”Vanessa be the name By which thou shalt be known to fame; Vanessa, by the G.o.ds enrolled: Her name on earth--shall not be told.”
But still the work was not complete, When Venus thought on a deceit: Drawn by her doves, away she flies, And finds out Pallas in the skies: Dear Pallas, I have been this morn To see a lovely infant born: A boy in yonder isle below, So like my own without his bow, By beauty could your heart be won, You'd swear it is Apollo's son; But it shall ne'er be said, a child So hopeful has by me been spoiled; I have enough besides to spare, And give him wholly to your care.
Wisdom's above suspecting wiles; The queen of learning gravely smiles, Down from Olympus comes with joy, Mistakes Vanessa for a boy; Then sows within her tender mind Seeds long unknown to womankind; For manly bosoms chiefly fit, The seeds of knowledge, judgment, wit, Her soul was suddenly endued With justice, truth, and fort.i.tude; With honour, which no breath can stain, Which malice must attack in vain: With open heart and bounteous hand: But Pallas here was at a stand; She know in our degenerate days Bare virtue could not live on praise, That meat must be with money bought: She therefore, upon second thought, Infused yet as it were by stealth, Some small regard for state and wealth: Of which as she grew up there stayed A tincture in the prudent maid: She managed her estate with care, Yet liked three footmen to her chair, But lest he should neglect his studies Like a young heir, the thrifty G.o.ddess (For fear young master should be spoiled) 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 we Vanessa thus endowed; 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, ”'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 played, 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 confirmed by Fate's decree; That G.o.ds, of whatso'er degree, Resume not what themselves have given, Or any brother-G.o.d in Heaven; Which keeps the peace among the G.o.ds, Or they must always be at odds.