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Ev'n then, before the fatal engine clos'd,
poignant Froduction of frequirgil, give m tu dors?" jauko The
NOTES. Ver. 152. But airy substance] See Milton, lib. vi. of Satan cut asunder by the Angel Michael.
This line is an admirable parody on that passage of Milton, which, perhaps oddly enough, describes Satan wounded : .66 The griding sword, with discontinuous wound,
Pass’d thro' him; but th' etherial substance clos’d,
Not long divisible.” The parodies are some of the most exquisite parts of this poem. That which follows from the “ Dum juga montis aper,” of Virgil, contains some of the most artful strokes of satire, and the most poignant ridicule imaginable.
The introduction of frequent parodies on serious and folemn passages of Homer and Virgil, give much life and spirit to heroi-comic poetry. “Tu dors, Prelat? tu dors ?” in Boileau, is the “ Evdeos Alee vie" of Homer, and is full of humour. The wife of the barber talks in the language of Dido in her expoftulations to her Æneas, at the beginning of the second Canto of the Lutrin. Pope's parodies of Sarpedon in Homer, and of the description of Achilles's sceptre, together with the fcales of Jupiter, from Homer, Virgil, and Milton, are judiciously introduced in their several places ; are perhaps superior to those Boileau or Garth have used, and are worked up with peculiar pleasantry. The mind of the reader is engaged by novelty, when it so unexpectedly finds a thought or object it had been accustomed to survey in another form, suddenly arrayed in a ridiculous garb. A mixture also of comic and ridiculous images, with such as are serious and important, adds no small beauty to this species of poetry, when real and imaginary distresses are coupled together
• Not youthful kings in battle seiz'd alive,
Not scornful virgins who their charms survive,” &c. Which is mụch superior to a similar paffage in the Dispensary. Canto v.
The meeting points the facred hair diffever
Then flash'd the living light’ning from her eyes,
Let wreaths of triumph now my temples twine,
165 Or the small pillow grace a Lady's bed,
While NOTES. Ver. 165. Atalantis] A famous book written about that time by a woman : full of Court and Party scandal ; and in a loose cffeminacy of style and sentiment, which well-suited the debauched taste of the better vulgar.
W. Mrs. Manley, the author of it, was the daughter of Sir Roger Manley, Governor of Guernsey, and the author of the first volume of the famous Turkish Spy, published, from his papers, by Dr. Midgley. She was known and admired by all the wits of the times. She wrote three plays; Lucius, the last, 1717, was dedicated to Sir Richard Steele, with whom she had quarrelled some time before. He wrote the prologue to it, and Prior the epilogue. She was also celebrated by Lord Lansdown. She died in the house of Alderman Barber, Swift's friend ; and was said to have been the mistress of the Alderman,
ta Mrs. Manley, the of Guernsey, and the from his paperoits of the
While visits shall be paid on solemn days,
CATULL. de com. Berenices. P.
THE RAPE OF THE LOCK.
Dut anxious cares the pensive nymph oppress’d,
And secret passions labourd in her breast. Not youthful kings in battle seiz'd alive, Not scornful virgins who their charms survive, Not ardent lovers robb’d of all their bliss, . 5 Not ancient ladies when refus’d a kiss, Not tyrants fierce that unrepenting die, Not Cynthia when her manteau's pinn'd awry, E’er felt sạch rage, resentment, and despair, As thou, fad Virgin! for thy ravish'd Hair. 10
For, that fad moment, when the Sylphs withdrew, And Ariel weeping from Belinda flew, Umbriel, a dusky, melancholy sprite, As ever fully'd the fair face of light,
Down · VARIATIONS, Ver. 11. For, that sad moment, &c.] All the lines from hence *. to the 94th verse, that describe the house of Spleen, are not in the first Edition ; instead of them followed only these,
While her rack’a Soul repose and peace requires,
The fierce Thaleftris fans the rising fires."
Down to the central earth, his proper scene, 15 Repair'd to search the gloomy Cave of Spleen.
Swift on his footy pinions flits the Gnome," And in a vapour reach'd the dismal dome. . .. No chearful breeze this fullen region knows,. . The dreaded East is all the wind that blows. - 20 Here in a grotto, shelter'd close from air, And screen’d in shades from day's detested glare, She fighs for ever on her pensive bed, Pain at her side, and Megrim at her head.
Two handmaids wait the throne: alike in place, But difforing far in figure and in face.. Here stood Ill-nature like an ancient maid, :,. Her wrinkled form in black and white array'd! .. With store of pray’rs, for mornings, nights, and noons, Her hand is fill’d; her bosom with lampoons. 30
.. There ..NOTES. Ver. 16. Cave of Spleen.] “ Thro' me ye pass to Spleen's terrific dome,
Thro' me, to Discontent's eternal home!
All ye who enter, every hope forego !” It is thus Mr. Hayley, in allusion to Dante's striking inscription over hell-gate, begins his description of the dwelling of Spleen. She and her attendants are afterwards painted with force and spirit in the next 200 verses, and more. His mild and engaging Serena, her prim and four aunt Penelope, and the good old Squire, are admirable portraits. Whether Pope's Belinda in losing her lock, or Hayley's Serena, in being prevented going to a masquerade, felt the greater mortification and misfortune, is an arduous point that must be determined by the Ladies. : . t195.