The Poems of Jonathan Swift, D.D Volume Ii Part 43

Let us try some new expedient; Shift the scene for half an hour, Time and place are in thy power.

Thither, gentle Muse, conduct me; I shall ask, and you instruct me.

See, the Muse unbars the gate; Hark, the monkeys, how they prate!

All ye G.o.ds who rule the soul:[5]

Styx, through h.e.l.l whose waters roll!

Let me be allow'd to tell What I heard in yonder h.e.l.l.

Near the door an entrance gapes,[6]

Crowded round with antic shapes, Poverty, and Grief, and Care, Causeless Joy, and true Despair; Discord periwigg'd with snakes,'[7]

See the dreadful strides she takes!

By this odious crew beset,[8]

I began to rage and fret, And resolved to break their pates, Ere we enter'd at the gates; Had not Clio in the nick[9]

Whisper'd me, "Lay down your stick."

What! said I, is this a mad-house?

These, she answer'd, are but shadows, Phantoms bodiless and vain, Empty visions of the brain.

In the porch Briareus stands,[10]

Shows a bribe in all his hands; Briareus the secretary, But we mortals call him Carey.[11]

When the rogues their country fleece, They may hope for pence a-piece.

Clio, who had been so wise To put on a fool's disguise, To bespeak some approbation, And be thought a near relation, When she saw three hundred[12] brutes All involved in wild disputes, Roaring till their lungs were spent, PRIVILEGE OF PARLIAMENT, Now a new misfortune feels, Dreading to be laid by th' heels.

Never durst a Muse before Enter that infernal door; Clio, stifled with the smell, Into spleen and vapours fell, By the Stygian steams that flew From the dire infectious crew.

Not the stench of Lake Avernus Could have more offended her nose; Had she flown but o'er the top, She had felt her pinions drop.

And by exhalations dire, Though a G.o.ddess, must expire.

In a fright she crept away, Bravely I resolved to stay.

When I saw the keeper frown, Tipping him with half-a-crown, Now, said I, we are alone, Name your heroes one by one.

Who is that h.e.l.l-featured brawler?

Is it Satan? No; 'tis Waller.[13]

In what figure can a bard dress Jack the grandson of Sir Hardress?

Honest keeper, drive him further, In his looks are h.e.l.l and murther; See the scowling visage drop, Just as when he murder'd Throp.[14]

Keeper, show me where to fix On the puppy pair of d.i.c.ks: By their lantern jaws and leathern, You might swear they both are brethren: d.i.c.k Fitzbaker,[15] d.i.c.k the player,[15]

Old acquaintance, are you there?

Dear companions, hug and kiss, Toast Old Glorious in your p.i.s.s; Tie them, keeper, in a tether, Let them starve and stink together; Both are apt to be unruly, Lash them daily, lash them duly; Though 'tis hopeless to reclaim them, Scorpion's rods, perhaps, may tame them.

Keeper, yon old dotard smoke, Sweetly snoring in his cloak: Who is he? 'Tis humdrum Wynne,[16]

Half encompa.s.s'd by his kin: There observe the tribe of Bingham,[17]

For he never fails to bring 'em; And that base apostate Vesey With Bishop's sc.r.a.ps grown fat and greasy, While Wynne sleeps the whole debate, They submissive round him wait; (Yet would gladly see the hunks, In his grave, and search his trunks,) See, they gently twitch his coat, Just to yawn and give his vote, Always firm in his vocation, For the court against the nation.

Those are Allens Jack and Bob,[18]

First in every wicked job, Son and brother to a queer Brain-sick brute, they call a peer.

We must give them better quarter, For their ancestor trod mortar, And at Hoath, to boast his fame, On a chimney cut his name.

There sit Clements, Dilks, and Carter;[19]

Who for h.e.l.l would die a martyr.

Such a triplet could you tell Where to find on this side h.e.l.l?

Gallows Carter, Dilks, and Clements, Souse them in their own excrements.

Every mischief's in their hearts; If they fail, 'tis want of parts.

Bless us! Morgan,[20] art thou there, man?

Bless mine eyes! art thou the chairman?

Chairman to yon d.a.m.n'd committee!

Yet I look on thee with pity.

Dreadful sight! what, learned Morgan Metamorphosed to a Gorgon![21]

For thy horrid looks, I own, Half convert me to a stone.

Hast thou been so long at school, Now to turn a factious tool?

Alma Mater was thy mother, Every young divine thy brother.

Thou, a disobedient varlet, Treat thy mother like a harlot!

Thou ungrateful to thy teachers, Who are all grown reverend preachers!

Morgan, would it not surprise one!

To turn thy nourishment to poison!

When you walk among your books, They reproach you with their looks; Bind them fast, or from their shelves They'll come down to right themselves: Homer, Plutarch, Virgil, Flaccus, All in arms, prepare to back us: Soon repent, or put to slaughter Every Greek and Roman author.

Will you, in your faction's phrase, Send the clergy all to graze;[22]

And to make your project pa.s.s, Leave them not a blade of gra.s.s?

How I want thee, humorous Hogarth!

Thou, I hear, a pleasant rogue art.

Were but you and I acquainted, Every monster should be painted: You should try your graving tools On this odious group of fools; Draw the beasts as I describe them: Form their features while I gibe them; Draw them like; for I a.s.sure you, You will need no _car'catura;_ Draw them so that we may trace All the soul in every face.

Keeper, I must now retire, You have done what I desire: But I feel my spirits spent With the noise, the sight, the scent.

"Pray, be patient; you shall find Half the best are still behind!

You have hardly seen a score; I can show two hundred more."

Keeper, I have seen enough.

Taking then a pinch of snuff, I concluded, looking round them, "May their G.o.d, the devil, confound them!"[23]

[Footnote 1: St. Andrew's Church, close to the site of the Parliament House.]

[Footnote 2: On a sc.r.a.p of paper, containing the memorials respecting the Dean's family, there occur the following lines, apparently the rough draught of the pa.s.sage in the text: "Making good that proverb odd, Near the church and far from G.o.d, Against the church direct is placed, Like it both in head and waist."--_Scott_.]

[Footnote 3: From the answer of the demoniac that the devils which possessed him were Legion.--St. Mark, v, 9.--_W. E. B._]

[Footnote 4: Sir Thomas Prendergast, a prominent opponent of the clergy, and a servile supporter of the government. See the verses on "Noisy Tom,"

_ante_, p. 260.]

[Footnote 5: "Di quibus imperium est animarum umbraeque silentes Sit mihi fas audita loqui."--VIRG., _Aen_., vi, 264.]

[Footnote 6: "Vestibulum ante ipsum primisque in faucibus Orci Luctus et ultrices posuere cubilia Curae;"--273.]

[Footnote 7:"----Discordia demens Vipereum crinem vittis innexa cruentis."--281.]

[Footnote 8: "Corripit his subita trepidus, ----strictamque aciem venientibus offert."--290.]

[Footnote 9: "Et ni docta comes tenues sine corpore vitas."--VIRG., _Aen_., vi, 291.]

[Footnote 10: "Et centumgeminus Briareus."--287.]

[Footnote 11: The Right Honourable Walter Carey. He was secretary to the Duke of Dorset when lord-lieutenant of Ireland. The Duke of Dorset came to Ireland in 1731.]

[Footnote 12: "Two hundred" written by Swift in the margin.--_Forster_.]

[Footnote 13: John Waller, Esq., member for the borough of Dongaile. He was grandson to Sir Hardress Waller, one of the regicide judges, and who concurred with them in pa.s.sing sentence on Charles I. This Sir Hardressmarried the daughter and co-heir of John Dowdal of Limerick, in Ireland, by which alliance he became so connected with the country, that after the rebellion was over, the family made it their residence.--_Scott._]

[Footnote 14: Rev. Roger Throp, whose death was said to have been occasioned by the persecution which he suffered from Waller. His case was published by his brother, and never answered, containing such a scene of petty vexatious persecutions as is almost incredible; the cause being the refusal of Mr. Throp to compound, for a compensation totally inadequate, some of the rights of his living which affected Waller's estate. In 1739, a pet.i.tion was presented to the House of Commons by his brother, Robert Throp, gentleman, complaining of this persecution, and applying to parliament for redress, relative to the number of attachments granted by the King's Bench, in favour of his deceased brother, and which could not be executed against the said Waller, on account of the privilege of Parliament, etc. But this pet.i.tion was rejected by the House, _nem. con._ The Dean seems to have employed his pen against Waller. See a letter from Mrs. Whiteway to Swift, Nov. 15, 1735, edit. Scott, xviii, p.

414.--_W. E. B_.]

[Footnote 15: Richard Tighe, so called because descended from a baker who supplied Cromwell's army with bread. Bettesworth is termed the _player_, from his pompous enunciation.]

[Footnote 16: "Right Honourable Owen Wynne, county of Sligo.--Owen Wynne, Esq., borough of Sligo.--John Wynne, Esq., borough of Castlebar."]