Her tongue bewitch'd as oddly as her eyes;
Less wit than mimic, more a wit than wise.
Strange graces still, and stranger flights she had,
Was just not ugly, and was just not mad;

50

Yet ne'er so sure our passion to create,
As when she touch'd the brink of all we hate.
Narcissa's nature, tolerably mild,

To make a wash, would hardly stew a child;
Has ev'n been prov'd to grant a lover's pray'r, 55
And paid a tradesman once to make him stare;
Gave alms at Easter, in a Christian trim,
And made a widow happy, for a whim.

NOTES.

Ver. 52. As when she touch'd the brink of all we hate.] Her charms consisted in the singular turn of her vivacity; consequently the stronger she exerted this vivacity, the more forcible was her attraction. But when her vivacity arose to that height in which it was most attractive, it was upon the brink of excess: the point where the delicacy of sensuality disappears, and all the coarseness of it stands exposed. Warburton.

Ver. 53.] IV. In the whimsical. Pope.

Ver. 54. would hardly stew a child;) This hyperbolical ridicule is carried to a great height, but in an image too disgusting. Juvenal, in his sixth satire, speaking of a great female talker, uses a pleasant hyperbole :

" Una laboranti poterit succurrere lunæ."

Warton.

Ver. 57. in a Christian trim,] This is finely expressed; implying that her very charity was as much an exterior of Religion, as the ceremonies of the season. It was not even in a Christian humour, it was only in a Christian trim : not so much as habit, only fashion. Warburton.

Ver. 58. And made a widow happy,] There are some female characters sketched with exquisite delicacy and deep knowledge of nature, in a book where one would not expect to find them, Law's Christian Perfection.

Warton.

60

Why then declare good-nature is her scorn,
When 'tis by that alone she can be borne?
Why pique all mortals, yet affect a name?
A fool to pleasure, yet a slave to fame :
Now deep in Taylor and the Book of Martyrs,
Now drinking citron with his Grace and Chartres:
Now conscience chills her, and now passion burns :
And atheism and religion take their turns;
A very heathen in the carnal part,
Yet still a sad, good Christian at her heart.
See Sin in state, majestically drunk ;
Proud as a peeress, prouder as a punk ;

NOTES.

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70

Ver. 65. Now conscience chills her,] Madame de Montespan, during her criminal intercourse with Louis XIV. kept her Lents so strictly, that she used to have her bread weighed out to her. Warton.

Ver. 68. Yet still a sad,] I have been informed on good authority, that this character was designed for the then Duchess of Hamilton. Warton.

Ver. 69.] V. In the lewd and vicious. Pope.

Ver. 70. Proud as a peeress,] Designed for the Duchess of Marlborough, who so much admired Congreve; and after his death caused a figure in wax-work to be made of him, and placed frequently at her table. This connexion is particularly hinted at in ver. 76.

She sins with poets

Our author's declaration, therefore, that no particular character was aimed at, is not true. Warton.

For the want of delicacy, the coarseness and the vulgarity of these lines, no wit can atone. Even Ruffhead here seems alarmed at the want of politeness of his favourite bard, though he expresses himself in terms more offensive upon the subject, than the poet! Bowles.

It is very extraordinary that the former editors of Pope should have asserted that the character of Philomedé was intended for

the

Chaste to her husband, frank to all beside,
A teeming mistress, but a barren bride.

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What then? let blood and body bear the fault,
Her head's untouch'd, that noble seat of thought:
Such this day's doctrine-in another fit
She sins with poets through pure love of wit.
What has not fired her bosom or her brain ?
Cæsar and Tall-boy, Charles and Charlemagne.
As Helluo, late dictator of the feast,
The nose of hautgout, and the tip of taste,
Critiqued your wine, and analysed your meat,
Yet on plain pudding deign'd at home to eat :
So Philomedé, lecturing all mankind,
On the soft passion, and the taste refined,

80

The address, the delicacy-stoops at once,

85

And makes her hearty meal upon a dunce.

NOTES.

the Duchess of Marlborough, who is described a few pages afterwards under the striking character of Atossa, but they probably meant to refer to her daughter Henrietta, usually called the young duchess of Marlborough, to whom Congreve left the greater part of his fortune, and who erected a monument to him in Westminster Abbey, in the following extraordinary terms:

" Mr. William Congreve died Jan. the 19th, 1728, aged fiftysix, and was buried near this place; to whose most valuable memory, this monument is set up by Henrietta, Duchess of Marlborough, as a mark how dearly she remembers the happiness and honour she enjoyed in the sincere friendship of so worthy and honest a man, whose virtue, candour, and wit, gained him the love and esteem of the present age, and whose writings will be the admiration of the future.".

VARIATIONS.

Ver. 77. What has not fired, &c.] In the MS.

In whose mad brain the mix'd ideas roll

Of Tall-boy's breeches, and of Cæsar's soul. Warburton.

VOL. V. :

Flavia's a wit, has too much sense to pray; To toast our wants and wishes, is her way; Nor asks of God, but of her stars, to give The mighty blessing, "While we live, to live." 90 Then all for death, that opiate of the soul ! Lucretia's dagger, Rosamonda's bowl. Say, what can cause such impotence of mind? A spark too fickle, or a spouse too kind. Wise wretch! with pleasures too refined to please; With too much spirit to be e'er at ease : With too much quickness ever to be taught; With too much thinking to have common thought: You purchase pain with all that joy can give, And die of nothing but a rage to live. Turn then from wits; and look on Simo's mate, No ass so meek, no ass so obstinate: Or her, that owns her faults, but never mends, Because she's honest, and the best of friends : Or her, whose life the church and scandal share, For ever in a passion or a prayer: Or her, who laughs at hell, but (like her Grace) Cries, "Ah! how charming if there's no such place!"

Or who in sweet vicissitude appears,

Of mirth and opium, ratafie and tears,

NOTES.

100

106

110

Ver. 87. VI. Contrarieties in the witty and refined. Pope.

Ver. 107. Or her who laughs at hell,]

"Shall pleasures of a short duration chain

A Lady's soul in everlasting pain?

Will the Great Author us poor worms destroy

For now and then a sip of transient joy?

No; He's for ever in a smiling mood;

He's like themselves; or how could he be good?"

From Young, Sat. 5. The person Pope intended to ridicule was the Duchess of Montague. Warton.

a

The daily anodyne, and nightly draught,
To kill those foes to fair ones, time and thought. I
Woman and fool are two hard things to hit;
For true no-meaning puzzles more than wit.
But what are these to great Atossa's mind? 115
Scarce once herself, by turns all womankind!
Who, with herself, or others, from her birth
Finds all her life one warfare upon earth:
Shines in exposing knaves, and painting fools,
Yet is, whate'er she hates and ridicules.

NOTES.

120

Ver. 115. great Atossa's mind?] Atossa is a name mentioned in Herodotus, and said to be a follower of Sappho. She was daughter of Cyrus and sister of Cambyses, and married Darius. She is also named in the Persæ of Æschylus. She is said to be the first that wrote Epistles. See Bentley on Phalaris, p. 385. and Dodwell against Bentley. Warton.

Ver. 120. Yet is, whate'er she hates] These spirited lines, that

paint a singular character, are designed for the famous Duchess of Marlborough, whom Swift had also severely satirized in the Examiner. Her beauty, her abilities, her political intrigues, are sufficiently known. The violence of her temper frequently broke out into wonderful and ridiculous indecencies. In the last illness of the great Duke her husband, when Dr. Mead left his chamber, the Duchess, disliking his advice, followed him down stairs, swore at him bitterly, and was going to tear off his periwig. Her friend Dr. Hoadley, Bishop of Winchester, was present at this scene. These lines were shewn to her Grace as if they were intended for the portrait of the Duchess of Buckingham; but she soon stopped the person who was reading them to her, as the Duchess of Portland informed me, and called out aloud, " I cannot be so imposed upon: I see plainly enough for whom they are designed:" and abused Pope most plentifully on the subject, though she was afterwards reconciled to him, and courted him, and gave him a thousand pounds to suppress this portrait, which he accepted, it is said, by the persuasion of Mrs. M. Blount; and, after the Duchess's death, it was printed in a folio sheet, 1746, and afterwards here if inserted

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