The Dean's Complaint, Translated and Answered
DOCTOR. Deaf, giddy, helpless, left alone.ANSWER. Except the first, the fault's your own.DOCTOR. To all my friends a burden grown.ANSWER. Because to few you will be shewn.Give them good wine, and meat to stuff,You may have company enough.DOCTOR. No more I hear my church's bell,Than if it rang out for my knell.ANSWER. Then write and read, 'twill do as well.DOCTOR. At thunder now no more I start,Than at the rumbling of a cart.ANSWER. Think then of thunder when you f--t.DOCTOR. Nay, what's incredible, alack!No more I hear a woman's clack.ANSWER. A woman's clack, if I have skill,Sounds somewhat like a throwster's mill;But louder than a bell, or thunder:That does, I own, increase my wonder.
Words in this poem
- rumbling
- a. & n. from Rumble, v. i.
- incredible a.
- Not credible; surpassing belief; too extraordinary and improbable to admit of belief; unlikely; marvelous; fabulous. [L. incredibilis: cf. OF. incredible. See In- not, and Credible.]
- alack interj.
- An exclamation expressive of sorrow. [Prob. from ah! lack! OE. lak loss, failure, misfortune. See Lack.]
- clack v. i.
- To make a sudden, sharp noise, or a succesion of such noises, as by striking an object, or by collision of parts; to rattle; to click. [Prob. of imitative origin; cf. F.claquer to clap, crack, D. klakken, MHG. klac crack, Ir. clagaim I make a noise, ring. Cf. Clack, n., Clatter, Click.]
Definitions and etymologies from Webster's Unabridged Dictionary, 1913.
About this text
The Dean's Complaint, Translated and Answered is in the public domain. This text is taken from The Poems of Jonathan Swift, D.D., Volume 1, Project Gutenberg ebook #14353; the transcription's header, footer and licence were removed and nothing else was changed. You may copy, print and reuse it freely.
Cite as: Jonathan Swift, The Dean's Complaint, Translated and Answered, in On Poetry: A Rhapsody, and Other Poems (1727), text of Project Gutenberg ebook #14353, Laurel, https://laurelpoetry.com/poem/swift-poems-vol1/the-dean-s-complaint-translated-and-answered.html, id L24575.
Form and metre
The Dean's Complaint, Translated and Answered is 18 lines in a single stanza. It is in rhyming couplets, 67% of the lines: heroic couplets. The metre is iambic pentameter, measured from the stress the words themselves fix (confidence 85%).
See other poems in heroic couplets, other poems in iambic pentameter.
Measured by Laurel's pipeline, not copied from a handbook: how stress and metre are counted, how rhyme is lettered, how a drifted rhyme is found. Where the dictionary cannot confirm a rhyme the letter is withheld, not guessed.
Rhyme words, stanza by stanza
The word that ends each line, lettered by the rhyme it makes; a dash is a line whose rhyme the dictionary could not confirm.
- 1 AAA-BBCCCDD-EEFFGG aloneA · ownA · grownA · shewn · stuffB · enoughB · bellC · knellC · wellC · startD · cartD · t · alackE · clackE · skillF · millF · thunderG · wonderG
Scansion, line by line
Each line with its syllable count and the stresses the words themselves fix: / stressed, ˘ unstressed, · a syllable the word leaves free and the metre decides. Read against iambic pentameter. How this is done.
| Line | Syl. | Stress |
|---|---|---|
| DOCTOR. Deaf, giddy, helpless, left alone. | 10 | /˘·/˘/˘·˘/ |
| ANSWER. Except the first, the fault's your own. | 10 | /˘········ |
| DOCTOR. To all my friends a burden grown. | 10 | /˘·····/˘· |
| ANSWER. Because to few you will be shewn. | 10 | /˘········ |
| Give them good wine, and meat to stuff, | 8 | ········ |
| You may have company enough. | 8 | ···/˘˘˘/ |
| DOCTOR. No more I hear my church's bell, | 10 | /˘·····/˘· |
| Than if it rang out for my knell. | 8 | ········ |
| ANSWER. Then write and read, 'twill do as well. | 10 | /˘········ |
| DOCTOR. At thunder now no more I start, | 10 | /˘·/˘····· |
| Than at the rumbling of a cart. | 9 | ···/˘˘··· |
| ANSWER. Think then of thunder when you f--t. | 11 | /˘···/˘···· |
| DOCTOR. Nay, what's incredible, alack! | 10 | /˘··˘/˘˘˘/ |
| No more I hear a woman's clack. | 8 | ·····/˘· |
| ANSWER. A woman's clack, if I have skill, | 10 | /˘·/˘····· |
| Sounds somewhat like a throwster's mill; | 8 | ·//····· |
| But louder than a bell, or thunder: | 9 | ·/˘····/˘ |
| That does, I own, increase my wonder. | 9 | ····˘/·/˘ |
The reader shows the same poem with its rhymes coloured and a stress row above each line, the notes beside their stanzas, and any word's definition on a tap; the analysis page takes the whole book apart. How every part of this site was made.