THE DUNCIAD.

BOOK THE THIRD.

ARGUMENT.

After the other persons are disposed in their proper places of rest, the goddess transports the king to her temple, and there lays him to slumber with his head on her lap; a position of marvellous virtue, which causes all the visions of wild enthusiasts, projectors, politicians, inamoratos, castle-builders, chemists, and poets. He is immediately carried on the wings of Fancy, and led by a mad poetical sibyl to the Elysian shade; where, on the banks of Lethe, the souls of the dull are dipped by Bavius, before their entrance into this world: there he is met by the ghost of Settle, and by him made acquainted with the wonders of the place, and with those which he himself is destined to perform. He takes him to a mount of vision, from whence he shows him the past triumphs of the empire of Dulness, then the present, and lastly the future; how small a part of the world was ever conquered by science; how soon those conquests were stopped, and those very nations again reduced to her dominion. Then, distinguishing the island of Great Britain, he shows by what aids, by what persons, and by what degrees, it shall be brought to her empire. Some of the persons he causes to pass in review before his eyes, describing each by his proper figure, character, and qualifications. On a sudden the scene shifts, and a vast number of miracles and prodigies appear, utterly surprising and unknown to the king himself, till they are explained to be the wonders of his own reign now commencing. On this subject, Settle breaks into a congratulation, yet not unmixed with concern, that his own times were but the types of these. He prophesies how first the nation shall be over-run with farces, operas, and shows; how the throne of Dulness shall be advanced over the theatres, and set up even at court; then how her sons shall preside in the seats of arts and sciences; giving a glimpse, or Pisgah-sight, of the future fulness of her glory, the accomplishment whereof is the subject of the fourth and last book.

BUT in her temple's last recess enclosed,
On Dulness' lap the anointed head reposed:

Him close she curtains round with vapours blue,
And soft besprinkles with Cimmerian dew;
Then raptures high the seat of sense o'erflow,
Which only heads refined from reason know.
Hence, from the straw, where Bedlam's prophet
nods,

He hears loud oracles, and talks with gods;
Hence the fool's paradise, the statesman's scheme,
The air-built castle, and the golden dream, 10
The maid's romantic wish, the chemist's flame,
And poet's vision of eternal fame.

And now, on fancy's easy wing convey'd,
The king descending views the Elysian shade.
A slip-shod sibyl led his steps along,
In lofty madness meditating song;

19

Her tresses staring from poetic dreams;
And never wash'd, but in Castalia's streams.
Taylor,* their better Charon, lends an oar,
(Once swan of Thames, though now he sings no
more ;)

Benlowes,+ propitious still to blockheads, bows;
And Shadwell nods the poppy on his brows.
Here, in a dusky vale, where Lethe rolls,
Old Bavius § sits, to dip poetic souls,
And blunt the sense, and fit it for a skull
Of solid proof, impenetrably dull.

Instant, when dipp'd, away they wing their flight,
Where Brown and Mears || unbar the gates of light,
Demand new bodies, and, in calf's array,
Rush to the world, impatient for the day.
Millions and millions on these banks he views,
Thick as the stars of night, or morning dews;

30

* John Taylor, a waterman, commonly called the Waterpoet.

"A country gentleman famous for his own bad poetry, and for patronising bad poets."

Shadwell took opium for many years, and died of too large a dose in the year 1692."

A poet of the Augustan age who attacked contemporary writers.

|| Booksellers and printers for anybody.

As thick as bees o'er vernal blossoms fly;
As thick as eggs at Ward* in pillory.

Wondering he gazed; when, lo! a sage appears,
By his broad shoulders known and length of ears,
Known by the band and suit which Settle wore
(His only suit) for twice three years before.
All as the vest appear'd the wearer's frame,
Old in new state,-another, yet the same.
Bland and familiar as in life, begun
Thus the great father to the greater son :-

40

'O, born to see what none can see awake!
Behold the wonders of the oblivious lake.
Thou, yet unborn, hast touch'd this sacred shore;
The hand of Bavius drench'd thee o'er and o'er.
But, blind to former as to future fate,
What mortal knows his pre-existent state?
Who knows how long thy transmigrating soul
Might from Boeotian to Boeotian roll?

How many Dutchmen she vouchsafed to thrid ?
How many stages through old monks she rid?
And all who since, in mild benighted days,
Mix'd the owl's ivy with the poet's bays?
As man's meanders to the vital spring

50

60

Roll all their tides, then back their circles bring;
Or whirligigs, twirl'd round by skilful swain,
Suck the thread in, then yield it out again;
All nonsense thus, of old or modern date,
Shall in thee centre, from thee circulate.
For this, our queen unfolds to vision true
Thy mental eye, for thou hast much to view :
Old scenes of glory, times long cast behind,
Shall, first recall'd, rush forward to thy mind :
Then stretch thy sight o'er all her rising reign,
And let the past and future fire thy brain.

'Ascend this hill, whose cloudy point com-
mands

Her boundless empire over seas and lands:

* John Ward, of Hackney, Esq. M.P. convicted of forgery, and placed in the pillory, March 17th, 1727.

See, round the poles where keener spangles shine, Where spices smoke beneath the burning line, 70 (Earth's wide extremes,) her sable flag display'd, And all the nations cover'd in her shade!

'Far eastward cast thine eye, from whence the

sun

And orient science their bright course begun : One godlike monarch* all that pride confounds; He, whose long wall the wandering Tartar bounds: Heavens! what a pile! whole ages perish there, And one bright blaze turns learning into air.

80

"Thence to the south extend thy gladden'd eyes: There rival flames with equal glory rise: From shelves to shelves see greedy Vulcan roll,+ And lick up all their physic of the soul.

'How little, mark! that portion of the ball, Where, faint at best, the beams of science fall: Soon as they dawn, from hyperborean skies Embodied dark, what clouds of Vandals rise! Lo! where Mæotis sleeps, and hardly flows The freezing Tanais through a waste of snows, The North by myriads pours her mighty sons, Great nurse of Goths, of Alans, and of Huns! 90 See Alaric's stern port, the martial frame Of Genseric, and Attila's dread name! See the bold Ostrogoths on Latium fall; See the fierce Visigoths, on Spain and Gaul! See, where the morning gilds the palmy shore, (The soil that arts and infant letters bore,+) His conquering tribes the Arabian prophet draws, And, saving ignorance, enthrones by laws. See Christians, Jews, one heavy sabbath keep, And all the western world believe and sleep. 100

"Chi Ho-am-ti, Emperor of China, the same who built the great wall between China and Tartary, destroyed all the books and learned men of that empire."

"The Caliph Omar I., having conquered Egypt, caused his general to burn the Ptolemean library, on the gates of which was this inscription, YYXHE IATPEION, 'the physic of the soul.""

+ Phoenicia.

'Lo! Rome herself, proud mistress now no

more

Of arts, but thundering against heathen lore;
Her gray-hair'd synods damning books unread,
And Bacon trembling for his brazen head.
Padua, with sighs, beholds her Livy burn,
And e'en the Antipodes Virgilius mourn.
See, the cirque falls, the unpillar'd temple nods;
Streets paved with heroes, Tiber choked with
gods;

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Till Peter's keys some christen'd Jove adorn, And Pan to Moses lends his pagan horn: See graceless Venus to a Virgin turn'd, Or Phidias broken, and Apelles burn'd. 'Behold yon isle, by palmers, pilgrims trod, Men bearded, bald, cowl'd, uncowl'd, shod, unshod,

Peel'd, patch'd, and piebald, linsey-woolsey brothers,

Grave mummers! sleeveless some, and shirtless

others.

*

That once was Britain!-Happy, had she seen
No fiercer sons, had Easter never been.
In peace, great goddess, ever be adored:
How keen the war, if Dulness draw the sword!
Thus visit not thy own! on this bless'd age, 121
Oh spread thy influence, but restrain thy rage.
'And see, my son! the hour is on its way,
That lifts our goddess to imperial sway:
This favourite isle, long sever'd from her reign,
Dove-like, she gathers to her wings again.

Now look through fate: behold the scene she

draws;

What aids, what armies to assert her cause!
See all her progeny, illustrious sight!

Behold, and count them, as they rise to light. 130

As Berecynthia, while her offspring vie

In homage to the mother of the sky,

*Alluding to the disputes in England about the right time of celebrating Easter.