Cadenus and Vanessa 1713

The shepherds and the nymphs were seenPleading before the Cyprian queen.The counsel for the fair began,Accusing the false creature Man.The brief with weighty crimes was chargedOn 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 freethinkers 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 statute in that case,Against her dignity and crown:Then pray'd an answer, and sat down.The nymphs with scorn beheld their foes;When the defendant's counsel rose,And, what no lawyer ever lack'd,With impudence own'd all the fact;But, what the gentlest heart would vex,Laid all the fault on t'other sex.That modern love is no such thingAs 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 breasts together burn,Together both to ashes turn.But women now feel no such fire,And only know the gross desire.Their passions 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 employsThe 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 obstruct the course,It whirls about, for want of force,And in its narrow circle gathersNothing but chaff, and straws, and feathers.The current of a female mindStops thus, and turns with every wind:Thus whirling round together drawsFools, fops, and rakes, for chaff and straws.Hence we conclude, no women's heartsAre won by virtue, wit, and parts:Nor are the men of sense to blame,For breasts incapable of flame;The faults must on the nymphs be placedGrown 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 dismiss'd.The cause appear'd of so much weight,That Venus, from her judgment seat,Desired them not to talk so loud,Else she must interpose a cloud:For if the heavenly folks should knowThese pleadings in the courts below,That mortals here disdain to love,She ne'er could show her face above;For gods, their betters, are too wiseTo value that which men despise.And then, said she, my son and IMust stroll in air, 'twixt land 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 appear'd so nice,She thought it best to take advice.The Muses, by the king's permission,Though foes to love, attend the session,And on the right hand took their placesIn order; on the left, the Graces:To whom she might her doubts proposeOn all emergencies that rose.The Muses oft were seen to frown;The Graces half ashamed look'd down;And 'twas observed, there were but fewOf either sex among the crew,Whom she or her assessors knew.The goddess soon began to see,Things were not ripe for a decree;And said, she must consult her books,The lovers' Fletas, Bractons, Cokes.First to a dapper clerk she beckon'dTo turn to Ovid, book the second:She then referr'd them to a placeIn Virgil, vide Dido's case:As for Tibullus's reports,They never pass'd for law in courts:For Cowley's briefs, and pleas of Waller,Still their authority was 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 or replies,Long bills, and answers stuff'd 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 sayWhat Venus meant by this delay?The goddess much perplex'd in mindTo see her empire thus declined,When first this grand debate arose,Above her wisdom to compose,Conceived a project in her headTo work her ends; which, if it sped,Would show the merits of the causeFar better than consulting laws.In a glad hour Lucina's aidProduced on earth a wondrous maid,On whom the Queen of Love was bentTo try a new experiment.She threw her law-books on the shelf,And thus debated with herself.Since men allege, they ne'er can findThose beauties in a female mind,Which raise a flame that will endureFor 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 will I gather and unite,And represent them to mankindCollected in that infant's mind.This said, she plucks in Heaven's high bowersA sprig of amaranthine flowers.In nectar thrice infuses bays,Three times refined in Titan's rays;Then calls the Graces to her aid,And sprinkles thrice the newborn maid:From whence the tender skin assumesA sweetness above all perfumes:From whence a cleanliness remains,Incapable of outward stains:From whence that decency of mind,So lovely in the female kind,Where not one careless thought intrudes;Less modest than the speech of prudes;Where never blush was call'd in aid,That 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'd 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, inspiredThat gentle, soft, engaging air,Which in old times adorn'd the fair:And said, "Vanessa be the nameBy which thou shall be known to fame:Vanessa, by the gods enroll'd: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 mornTo 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 childSo hopeful, has by me been spoil'd: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 mindSeeds long unknown to womankind:For manly bosoms chiefly fit,The seeds of knowledge, judgment, wit.Her soul was suddenly enduedWith justice, truth, and fortitude;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 knew, 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 staidA tincture in the prudent maid:She managed her estate with care,Yet liked three footmen to her chair.But, lest he should neglect his studiesLike a young heir, the thrifty goddess(For fear young master should be spoil'd)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 see Vanessa thus endow'd:She doubted not but such a dameThrough every breast would dart a flame,That every rich and lordly swainWith pride would drag about her chain;That scholars would forsake their books,To study bright Vanessa's looks;As she advanced, that womankindWould by her model form their mind,And all their conduct would be triedBy her, as an unerring guide;Offending daughters oft would hearVanessa'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 MaidFound out the trick that Venus play'd,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 findA wholesome law, time out of mind,Had been confirm'd by Fate's decree,That gods, of whatsoe'er degree,Resume not what themselves have given,Or any brother god in Heaven:Which keeps the peace among the gods,Or they must always be at odds:And Pallas, if she broke the laws,Must yield her foe the stronger cause;A shame to one so much adoredFor wisdom at Jove's council-board.Besides, she fear'd the Queen of LoveWould meet with better friends above.And though she must with grief reflect,To see a mortal virgin deck'dWith graces hitherto unknownTo female breasts, except her own:Yet she would act as best becameA goddess of unspotted fame.She knew, by augury divine,Venus would fail in her design:She studied well the point, and foundHer foe's conclusions were not sound,From premises erroneous brought,And therefore the deduction's naught,And must have contrary effects,To what her treacherous foe expects.In proper season Pallas meetsThe Queen of Love, whom thus she greets,(For gods, we are by Homer told,Can in celestial language scold:)--Perfidious goddess! but in vainYou form'd this project in your brain;A project for your talents fit,With much deceit and little wit.Thou hast, as thou shall quickly see,Deceived thyself, instead of me;For how can heavenly wisdom proveAn instrument to earthly love?Know'st thou not yet, that men commenceThy votaries for want of sense?Nor shall Vanessa be the themeTo manage thy abortive scheme:She'll prove the greatest of thy foes;And yet I scorn to interpose,But, using neither skill nor force,Leave all things to their natural course.The goddess thus pronounced her doom:When, lo! Vanessa in her bloomAdvanced, like Atalanta's star,But rarely seen, and seen from far:In a new world with caution slept,Watch'd all the company she kept,Well knowing, from the books she read,What dangerous paths young virgins tread:Would seldom at the Park appear,Nor saw the play-house twice a year;Yet, not incurious, was inclinedTo know the converse of mankind.First issued from perfumers' shops,A crowd of fashionable fops:They ask'd her how she liked the play;Then told the tattle of the day;A duel fought last night at two,About a lady--you know who;Mention'd a new Italian, comeEither from Muscovy or Rome;Gave hints of who and who's together;Then fell to talking of the weather;Last night was so extremely fine,The ladies walk'd till after nine:Then, in soft voice and speech absurd,With nonsense every second word,With fustian from exploded plays,They celebrate her beauty's praise;Run o'er their cant of stupid lies,And tell the murders of her eyes.With silent scorn Vanessa sat,Scarce listening to their idle chat;Farther than sometimes by a frown,When they grew pert, to pull them down.At last she spitefully was bentTo try their wisdom's full extent;And said, she valued nothing lessThan titles, figure, shape, and dress;That merit should be chiefly placedIn judgment, knowledge, wit, and taste;And these, she offer'd to dispute,Alone distinguish'd man from brute:That present times have no pretenceTo virtue, in the noble senseBy Greeks and Romans understood,To perish for our country's good.She named the ancient heroes round,Explain'd for what they were renown'd;Then spoke with censure or applauseOf foreign customs, rites, and laws;Through nature and through art she rangedAnd gracefully her subject changed;In vain! her hearers had no shareIn all she spoke, except to stare.Their judgment was, upon the whole,--That lady is the dullest soul!--Then tapt their forehead in a jeer,As who should say--She wants it here!She may be handsome, young, and rich,But none will burn her for a witch!A party next of glittering dames,From round the purlieus of St. James,Came early, out of pure good will,To see the girl in dishabille.Their clamour, 'lighting from their chairsGrew louder all the way up stairs;At entrance loudest, where they foundThe room with volumes litter'd round.Vanessa held Montaigne, and read,While Mrs. Susan comb'd her head.They call'd for tea and chocolate,And fell into their usual chat,Discoursing with important face,On ribbons, fans, and gloves, and lace;Show'd patterns just from India brought,And gravely ask'd her what she thought,Whether the red or green were best,And what they cost? Vanessa guess'dAs came into her fancy first;Named half the rates, and liked the worst.To scandal next--What awkward thingWas that last Sunday in the ring?I'm sorry Mopsa breaks so fast:I said her face would never last.Corinna, with that youthful air,Is thirty, and a bit to spare:Her fondness for a certain earlBegan when I was but a girl!Phillis, who but a month agoWas married to the Tunbridge beau,I saw coquetting t'other nightIn public with that odious knight!They rallied next Vanessa's dress:That gown was made for old Queen Bess.Dear madam, let me see your head:Don't you intend to put on red?A petticoat without a hoop!Sure, you are not ashamed to stoop!With handsome garters at your knees,No matter what a fellow sees.Filled with disdain, with rage inflamedBoth of herself and sex ashamed,The nymph stood silent out of spite,Nor would vouchsafe to set them right.Away the fair detractors went,And gave by turns their censures vent.She's not so handsome in my eyes:For wit, I wonder where it lies!She's fair and clean, and that's the most:But why proclaim her for a toast?A baby face; no life, no airs,But what she learn'd at country fairs;Scarce knows what difference is betweenRich Flanders lace and Colberteen.I'll undertake, my little NancyIn flounces has a better fancy;With all her wit, I would not askHer judgment how to buy a mask.We begg'd her but to patch her face,She never hit one proper place;Which every girl at five years oldCan do as soon as she is told.I own, that out-of-fashion stuffBecomes the creature well enough.The girl might pass, if we could get herTo know the world a little better.(To know the world! a modern phraseFor visits, ombre, balls, and plays.)Thus, to the world's perpetual shame,The Queen of Beauty lost her aim;Too late with grief she understoodPallas had done more harm than good;For great examples are but vain,Where ignorance begets disdain.Both sexes, arm'd with guilt and spite,Against Vanessa's power unite:To copy her few nymphs aspired;Her virtues fewer swains admired.So stars, beyond a certain height,Give mortals neither heat nor light.Yet some of either sex, endow'dWith gifts superior to the crowd,With virtue, knowledge, taste, and witShe condescended to admit:With pleasing arts she could reduceMen's talents to their proper use;And with address each genius heldTo that wherein it most excell'd;Thus, making others' wisdom known,Could please them, and improve her own.A modest youth said something new;She placed it in the strongest view.All humble worth she strove to raise,Would not be praised, yet loved to praise.The learned met with free approach,Although they came not in a coach:Some clergy too she would allow,Nor quarrell'd at their awkward bow;But this was for Cadenus' sake,A gownman of a different make;Whom Pallas once, Vanessa's tutor,Had fix'd on for her coadjutor.But Cupid, full of mischief, longsTo vindicate his mother's wrongs.On Pallas all attempts are vain:One way he knows to give her pain;Vows on Vanessa's heart to takeDue vengeance, for her patron's sake;Those early seeds by Venus sown,In spite of Pallas now were grown;And Cupid hoped they would improveBy time, and ripen into love.The boy made use of all his craft,In vain discharging many a shaft,Pointed at colonels, lords, and beaux:Cadenus warded off the blows;For, placing still some book betwixt,The darts were in the cover fix'd,Or, often blunted and recoil'd,On Plutarch's Moral struck, were spoil'd.The Queen of Wisdom could foresee,But not prevent, the Fates' decree:And human caution tries in vainTo break that adamantine chain.Vanessa, though by Pallas taught,By Love invulnerable thought,Searching in books for wisdom's aid,Was, in the very search, betray'd.Cupid, though all his darts were lost,Yet still resolved to spare no cost:He could not answer to his fameThe triumphs of that stubborn dame,A nymph so hard to be subdued,Who neither was coquette nor prude.I find, said he, she wants a doctor,Both to adore her, and instruct her:I'll give her what she most admiresAmong those venerable sires.Cadenus is a subject fit,Grown old in politics and wit,Caress'd by ministers of state,Of half mankind the dread and hate.Whate'er vexations love attend,She needs no rivals apprehend.Her sex, with universal voice,Must laugh at her capricious choice.Cadenus many things had writ:Vanessa much esteem'd his wit,And call'd for his poetic works:Meantime the boy in secret lurks;And, while the book was in her hand,The urchin from his private standTook aim, and shot with all his strengthA dart of such prodigious length,It pierced the feeble volume through,And deep transfix'd her bosom too.Some lines, more moving than the rest,Stuck to the point that pierced her breast,And, borne directly to the heart,With pains unknown increased her smart.Vanessa, not in years a score,Dreams of a gown of forty-four;Imaginary charms can findIn eyes with reading almost blind:Cadenus now no more appearsDeclined in health, advanced in years.She fancies music in his tongue;Nor farther looks, but thinks him young.What mariner is not afraidTo venture in a ship decay'd?What planter will attempt to yokeA sapling with a falling oak?As years increase, she brighter shines;Cadenus with each day declines:And he must fall a prey to time,While she continues in her prime.Cadenus, common forms apart,In every scene had kept his heart;Had sigh'd and languish'd, vow'd and writ,For pastime, or to show his wit,But books, and time, and state affairs,Had spoil'd his fashionable airs:He now could praise, esteem, approve,But understood not what was love.His conduct might have made him styledA father, and the nymph his child.That innocent delight he tookTo see the virgin mind her book,Was but the master's secret joyIn school to hear the finest boy.Her knowledge with her fancy grew;She hourly press'd for something new;Ideas came into her mindSo fast, his lessons lagg'd behind;She reason'd, without plodding long,Nor ever gave her judgment wrong.But now a sudden change was wrought;She minds no longer what he taught.Cadenus was amazed to findSuch marks of a distracted mind:For, though she seem'd to listen moreTo all he spoke, than e'er before,He found her thoughts would absent range,Yet guess'd not whence could spring the change.And first he modestly conjecturesHis pupil might be tired with lectures;Which help'd to mortify his pride,Yet gave him not the heart to chide:But, in a mild dejected strain,At last he ventured to complain:Said, she should be no longer teazed,Might have her freedom when she pleased;Was now convinced he acted wrongTo hide her from the world so long,And in dull studies to engageOne of her tender sex and age;That every nymph with envy own'd,How she might shine in the grand monde:And every shepherd was undoneTo see her cloister'd like a nun.This was a visionary scheme:He waked, and found it but a dream;A project far above his skill:For nature must be nature still.If he were bolder than becameA scholar to a courtly dame,She might excuse a man of letters;Thus tutors often treat their better;And, since his talk offensive grew,He came to take his last adieu.Vanessa, fill'd with just disdain,Would still her dignity maintain,Instructed from her early yearsTo scorn the art of female tears.Had he employ'd his time so longTo teach her what was right and wrong;Yet could such notions entertainThat all his lectures were in vain?She own'd the wandering of her thoughts;But he must answer for her faults.She well remember'd to her cost,That all his lessons were not lost.Two maxims she could still produce,And sad experience taught their use;That virtue, pleased by being shown,Knows nothing which it dares not own;Can make us without fear discloseOur inmost secrets to our foes;That common forms were not design'dDirectors to a noble mind.Now, said the nymph, to let you seeMy actions with your rules agree;That I can vulgar forms despise,And have no secrets to disguise;I knew, by what you said and writ,How dangerous things were men of wit;You caution'd me against their charms,But never gave me equal arms;Your lessons found the weakest part,Aim'd at the head, but reach'd the heart.Cadenus felt within him riseShame, disappointment, guilt, surprise.He knew not how to reconcileSuch language with her usual style:And yet her words were so exprest,He could not hope she spoke in jest.His thoughts had wholly been confinedTo form and cultivate her mind.He hardly knew, till he was told,Whether the nymph were young or old;Had met her in a public place,Without distinguishing her face;Much less could his declining ageVanessa's earliest thoughts engage;And, if her youth indifference met,His person must contempt beget;Or grant her passion be sincere,How shall his innocence be clear?Appearances were all so strong,The world must think him in the wrong;Would say, he made a treacherous useOf wit, to flatter and seduce;The town would swear, he had betray'dBy magic spells the harmless maid:And every beau would have his joke,That scholars were like other folk;And, when Platonic flights were over,The tutor turn'd a mortal lover!So tender of the young and fair!It show'd a true paternal care--Five thousand guineas in her purse!The doctor might have fancied worse.--Hardly at length he silence broke,And falter'd every word he spoke;Interpreting her complaisance,Just as a man sans consequence.She rallied well, he always knew:Her manner now was something new;And what she spoke was in an airAs serious as a tragic player.But those who aim at ridiculeShould fix upon some certain rule,Which fairly hints they are in jest,Else he must enter his protest:For let a man be ne'er so wise,He may be caught with sober lies;A science which he never taught,And, to be free, was dearly bought;For, take it in its proper light,'Tis just what coxcombs call a bite.But, not to dwell on things minute,Vanessa finish'd the dispute;Brought weighty arguments to proveThat reason was her guide in love.She thought he had himself described,His doctrines when she first imbibed;What he had planted, now was grown;His virtues she might call her own;As he approves, as he dislikes,Love or contempt her fancy strikes.Self-love, in nature rooted fast,Attends us first, and leaves us last;Why she likes him, admire not at her;She loves herself, and that's the matter.How was her tutor wont to praiseThe geniuses of ancient days!(Those authors he so oft had named,For learning, wit, and wisdom, famed;)Was struck with love, esteem, and awe,For persons whom he never saw.Suppose Cadenus flourish'd then,He must adore such godlike men.If one short volume could compriseAll that was witty, learn'd, and wise,How would it be esteem'd and read,Although the writer long were dead!If such an author were alive,How all would for his friendship strive,And come in crowds to see his face!And this she takes to be her case.Cadenus answers every end,The book, the author, and the friend;The utmost her desires will reach,Is but to learn what he can teach:His converse is a system fitAlone to fill up all her wit;While every passion of her mindIn him is centred and confined.Love can with speech inspire a mute,And taught Vanessa to dispute.This topic, never touch'd before,Display'd her eloquence the more:Her knowledge, with such pains acquired,By this new passion grew inspired;Through this she made all objects pass,Which gave a tincture o'er the mass;As rivers, though they bend and twine,Still to the sea their course incline:Or, as philosophers, who findSome favourite system to their mind;In every point to make it fit,Will force all nature to submit.Cadenus, who could ne'er suspectHis lessons would have such effect,Or be so artfully applied,Insensibly came on her side.It was an unforeseen event;Things took a turn he never meant.Whoe'er excels in what we prize,Appears a hero in our eyes;Each girl, when pleased with what is taught,Will have the teacher in her thought.When miss delights in her spinet,A fiddler may a fortune get;A blockhead, with melodious voice,In boarding-schools may have his choice:And oft the dancing-master's artClimbs from the toe to touch the heart.In learning let a nymph delight,The pedant gets a mistress by't.Cadenus, to his grief and shame,Could scarce oppose Vanessa's flame;And, though her arguments were strong,At least could hardly wish them wrong.Howe'er it came, he could not tell,But sure she never talk'd so well.His pride began to interpose;Preferr'd before a crowd of beaux!So bright a nymph to come unsought!Such wonder by his merit wrought!'Tis merit must with her prevail!He never knew her judgment fail!She noted all she ever read!And had a most discerning head!'Tis an old maxim in the schools,That flattery's the food of fools;Yet now and then your men of witWill condescend to take a bit.So when Cadenus could not hide,He chose to justify his pride;Construing the passion she had shown,Much to her praise, more to his own.Nature in him had merit placed,In her a most judicious taste.Love, hitherto a transient guest,Ne'er held possession of his breast;So long attending at the gate,Disdain'd to enter in so late.Love why do we one passion call,When 'tis a compound of them all?Where hot and cold, where sharp and sweet,In all their equipages meet;Where pleasures mix'd with pains appear,Sorrow with joy, and hope with fear;Wherein his dignity and ageForbid Cadenus to engage.But friendship, in its greatest height,A constant, rational delight,On virtue's basis fix'd to last,When love allurements long are past,Which gently warms, but cannot burn,He gladly offers in return;His want of passion will redeemWith gratitude, respect, esteem:With what devotion we bestow,When goddesses appear below.While thus Cadenus entertainsVanessa in exalted strains,The nymph in sober words entreatsA truce with all sublime conceits;For why such raptures, flights, and fancies,To her who durst not read romances?In lofty style to make replies,Which he had taught her to despise?But when her tutor will affectDevotion, duty, and respect,He fairly abdicates the throne:The government is now her own;He has a forfeiture incurr'd;She vows to take him at his word,And hopes he will not think it strangeIf both should now their stations change,The nymph will have her turn to beThe tutor; and the pupil, he;Though she already can discernHer scholar is not apt to learn;Or wants capacity to reachThe science she designs to teach;Wherein his genius was belowThe skill of every common beau,Who, though he cannot spell, is wiseEnough to read a lady's eyes,And will each accidental glanceInterpret for a kind advance.But what success Vanessa met,Is to the world a secret yet.Whether the nymph, to please her swain,Talks in a high romantic strain;Or whether he at last descendsTo act with less seraphic ends;Or to compound the business, whetherThey temper love and books together;Must never to mankind be told,Nor shall the conscious Muse unfold.Meantime the mournful Queen of LoveLed but a weary life above.She ventures now to leave the skies,Grown by Vanessa's conduct wise:For though by one perverse eventPallas had cross'd her first intent;Though her design was not obtain'd:Yet had she much experience gain'd,And, by the project vainly tried,Could better now the cause decide.She gave due notice, that both parties,Coram Regina, prox' die Martis,Should at their peril, without fail,Come and appear, and save their bail.All met; and, silence thrice proclaimed,One lawyer to each side was named.The judge discover'd in her faceResentments for her late disgrace;And full of anger, shame, and grief,Directed them to mind their brief;Nor spend their time to show their reading:She'd have a summary proceeding.She gather'd under every headThe sum of what each lawyer said,Gave her own reasons last, and thenDecreed the cause against the men.But in a weighty case like this,To show she did not judge amiss,Which evil tongues might else report,She made a speech in open court;Wherein she grievously complains,"How she was cheated by the swains;On whose petition (humbly showing,That women were not worth the wooing,And that, unless the sex would mend,The race of lovers soon must end)--She was at Lord knows what expenseTo form a nymph of wit and sense,A model for her sex design'd,Who never could one lover find.She saw her favour was misplaced;The fellows had a wretched taste;She needs must tell them to their face,They were a stupid, senseless race;And, were she to begin again,She'd study to reform the men;Or add some grains of folly moreTo women, than they had before,To put them on an equal foot;And this, or nothing else, would do't.This might their mutual fancy strike;Since every being loves its like."But now, repenting what was done,She left all business to her son;She put the world in his possession,And let him use it at discretion."The crier was order'd to dismissThe court, who made his last "O yes!"The goddess would no longer wait;But, rising from her chair of state,Left all below at six and seven,Harness'd her doves, and flew to Heaven.