Nolueram,
Belinda, tuos violare capillos;
Sedjuvat, hoc precibus me tribuisse tuis. (Martial,
Epigrams 12.84) What dire offence from am'rous causes springs, What mighty contests rise from trivial things, I sing—This verse to Caryl,
Muse! is due: This, ev'n Belinda may vouchsafe to view: Slight is the subject, but not so the praise, If she inspire, and he approve my lays. Say what strange motive,
Goddess! could compel A well-bred lord t' assault a gentle belle? O say what stranger cause, yet unexplor'd, Could make a gentle belle reject a lord? In tasks so bold, can little men engage, And in soft bosoms dwells such mighty rage? Sol thro' white curtains shot a tim'rous ray, And op'd those eyes that must eclipse the day; Now lap-dogs give themselves the rousing shake, And sleepless lovers, just at twelve, awake: Thrice rung the bell, the slipper knock'd the ground, And the press'd watch return'd a silver sound. Belinda still her downy pillow press'd, Her guardian sylph prolong'd the balmy rest: 'Twas he had summon'd to her silent bed The morning dream that hover'd o'er her head; A youth more glitt'ring than a birthnight beau, (That ev'n in slumber caus'd her cheek to glow) Seem'd to her ear his winning lips to lay, And thus in whispers said, or seem'd to say. "Fairest of mortals, thou distinguish'd care Of thousand bright inhabitants of air! If e'er one vision touch'd thy infant thought, Of all the nurse and all the priest have taught, Of airy elves by moonlight shadows seen, The silver token, and the circled green, Or virgins visited by angel pow'rs, With golden crowns and wreaths of heav'nly flow'rs, Hear and believe! thy own importance know, Nor bound thy narrow views to things below. Some secret truths from learned pride conceal'd, To maids alone and children are reveal'd: What tho' no credit doubting wits may give? The fair and innocent shall still believe. Know then, unnumber'd spirits round thee fly, The light militia of the lower sky; These, though unseen, are ever on theg, Hang o'er the box, and hover round the Ring. Think what an equipage thou hast in air, And view with scorn two pages and a chair. As now your own, our beings were of old, And once inclos'd in woman's beauteous mould; Thence, by a soft transition, we repair From earthly vehicles to these of air. Think not, when woman's transient breath is fled, That all her vanities at once are dead; Succeeding vanities she still regards, And tho' she plays no more, o'erlooks the cards. Her joy in gilded chariots, when alive, And love of ombre, after death survive. For when the fair in all their pride expire, To their first elements their souls retire: The sprites of fiery termagants in flame Mount up, and take a Salamander's name. Soft yielding minds to water glide away, And sip with Nymphs, their elemental tea. The graver prude sinks downward to a Gnome, In search of mischief still on earth to roam. The light coquettes in Sylphs aloft repair, And sport and flutter in the fields of air. Know further yet; whoever fair and chaste Rejects mankind, is by some sylph embrac'd: For spirits, freed from mortal laws, with ease Assume what sexes and what shapes they please. What guards the purity of melting maids, In courtly balls, and midnight masquerades, Safe from the treach'rous friend, the daring spark, The glance by day, the whisper in the dark, When kind occasion prompts their warm desires, When music softens, and when dancing fires? 'Tis but their sylph, the wise celestials know, Though honour is the word with men below. Some nymphs there are, too conscious of their face, For life predestin'd to the gnomes' embrace. These swell their prospects and exalt their pride, When offers are disdain'd, and love denied: Then gay ideas crowd the vacant brain, While peers, and dukes, and all their sweeping train, And garters, stars, and coronets appear, And in soft sounds 'Your Grace' salutes their ear. 'Tis these that early taint the female soul, Instruct the eyes of young coquettes to roll, Teach infant cheeks a bidden blush to know, And little hearts to flutter at a beau. Oft, when the world imagine women stray, The Sylphs through mystic mazes guide their way, Thro' all the giddy circle they pursue, And old impertinence expel by new. What tender maid but must a victim fall To one man's treat, but for another's ball? When Florio speaks, what virgin could withstand, If gentle Damon did not squeeze her hand? With varying vanities, from ev'ry part, They shift the moving toyshop of their heart; Where wigs with wigs, with sword-knots sword-knots strive, Beaux banish beaux, and coaches coaches drive. This erring mortals levity may call, Oh blind to truth! the Sylphs contrive it all. Of these am I, who thy protection claim, A watchful sprite, and Ariel is my name. Late, as I rang'd the crystal wilds of air, In the clear mirror of thy ruling star I saw, alas! some dread event impend, Ere to the main this morning sun descend, But Heav'n reveals not what, or how, or where: Warn'd by the Sylph, oh pious maid, beware! This to disclose is all thy guardian can. Beware of all, but most beware of man!" He said; when Shock, who thought she slept too long, Leap'd up, and wak'd his mistress with his tongue. 'Twas then,
Belinda, if report say true, Thy eyes first open'd on a billet-doux; Wounds, charms, and ardors were no sooner read, But all the vision vanish'd from thy head. And now, unveil'd, the toilet stands display'd, Each silver vase in mystic order laid. First, rob'd in white, the nymph intent adores With head uncover'd, the cosmetic pow'rs. A heav'nly image in the glass appears, To that she bends, to that her eyes she rears; Th' inferior priestess, at her altar's side, Trembling, begins the sacred rites of pride. Unnumber'd treasures ope at once, and here The various off'rings of the world appear; From each she nicely culls with curious toil, And decks the goddess with the glitt'ring spoil. This casket India's glowing gems unlocks, And all Arabia breathes from yonder box. The tortoise here and elephant unite, Transform'd to combs, the speckled and the white. Here files of pins extend their shining rows, Puffs, powders, patches, bibles, billet-doux. Now awful beauty puts on all its arms; The fair each moment rises in her charms, Repairs her smiles, awakens ev'ry grace, And calls forth all the wonders of her face; Sees by degrees a purer blush arise, And keener lightnings quicken in her eyes. The busy Sylphs surround their darling care; These set the head, and those divide the hair, Some fold the sleeve, whilst others plait the gown; And Betty's prais'd for labours not her own.
Form: couplets 1.
First published anonymously in Lintot's Miscellany in May 1712, but revised, expanded, and published separately under Pope's name on March 2, 1714.
To this edition Pope added the following dedicatory letter:
To Mrs.
Arabella
Madam,
It will be in vain to deny that I have some regard for this piece, since I dedicate it to You.
Yet you may bear me witness, it was intended only to divert a few young Ladies, who have good sense and good humour enough to laugh not only at their sex's little unguarded follies, but at their own.
But as it was communicated with the air of a secret, it soon found its way into the world.
An imperfect copy having been offered to a Bookseller, you had the good nature for my sake to consent to the publication of one more correct:
This I was forced to, before I had executed half my design, for the Machinery was entirely wanting to complete it.
The Machinery,
Madam, is a term invented by the Critics, to signify that part which the Deities,
Angels, or Dæ\;mons are made to act in a poem:
For the ancient poets are in one respect like many modern ladies: let an action be never so trivial in itself, they always make it appear of the utmost importance. These Machines I determined to raise on a very new and odd foundation, the Rosicrucian doctrine of Spirits.
I know how disagreeable it is to make use of hard words before a lady\; but 'tis so much the concern of a poet to have his works understood and particularly by your sex, that you must give me leave to explain two or three difficult terms.
The Rosicrucians are a people I must bring you acquainted with. The best account I know of them is in a French book called Le Comte de Gabalis, which both in its title and size is so like a novel, that many of the fair sex have read it for one by mistake.
According to these gentlemen, the four elements are inhabited by spirits, which they call Sylphs,
Gnomes,
Nymphs, and Salamanders.
The Gnomes or Dæ\;mons of Earth delight in mischief\; but the Sylphs, whose habitation is in the air, are the best-conditioned creatures imaginable.
For they say, any mortals may enjoy the most intimate familiarities with these gentle spirits, upon a condition very easy to all true adepts, an inviolate preservation of Chastity.
As to the following Cantos, all the passages of them are as fabulous as the Vision at the beginning or the Transformation at the end\; (except the loss of your Hair, which I always mention with reverence).
The human persons are as fictitious as the airy ones, and the character of Belinda, as it is now managed, resembles you in nothing but in Beauty.
If this poem had as many graces as there are in your person, or in your mind, yet I could never hope it should pass through the world half so uncensured as you have done.
But let its fortune be what it will, mine is happy enough, to have given me this occasion of assuring you that I am, with the truest esteem,
Madam,
Your most obedient,
Humble Servant,
A.
The Rape of the Lock was written at the request of John Caryl, a Catholic man of letters and Pope's lifelong friend and correspondent.
In the year 1711,
Robert,
Lord Petre (the Baron of the poem), a relative of Caryl's, caused a serious quarrel by the theft of a lock of Miss Arabella Fermor's hair (Pope's Belinda).
Caryl requested a jesting poem to laugh the families out of their anger, and Pope obliged with the 1712 two-canto version of The Rape of the Lock, which had only 334 lines.
The version of 1714 exploited far more fully the idea of a "heroi-comical" poem. This involved the addition of the "celestial machinery," of Rosicrucian spirits--the sylphs.
Other epic or "heroic" analogues added in 1714 included Belinda's toilet (the arming for battle), the card game of ombre (epic games), and the Cave of Spleen (descent to the underworld).
The present version contains one other addition made in 1717,
Clarissa's speech in Canto V, which Pope said (with some irony) opened "more clearly the moral of the poem." The importance of The Rape of the Lock and its proper comprehension by its audience was underlined by a prose publication called the Key to the Lock. In this work,
Pope, writing under the pseudonym of Esdras Barnevelt, carries on a comic attack on the poem, pointing out some of the religious overtones, such as the sylphs as guardian angels,
Belinda's toilet as a parody of the Mass.
Nolueram,
Belinda ....
I didn't wish to violate your locks,
Belinda, but I'm happy to have granted this to your prayers (Martial,
Epigrams,
II, 84).17.
Thrice rung ... the ground.
Belinda's summons to her maid employs the triple repetition common in epic poetry. 18. press'd watch: a watch which sounded the immediately preceding hour or quarter hour when it was pressed.
These watches enabled one to tell time when it was too dark to see. 21 ff.
The gods often communicate with the epic hero through dreams (e.g.,
Aeneid,
II, 147 ff.). 23. birth-night beau: dressed in the splendid apparel used for a royal birthday celebration. 27-28.
Epic heroes are always under the protection or guardianship of higher powers. 32. silver token: coin left by the fairies in the shoes of grass covered with "fairy-ring," circles of dark, coarse grass, supposed to mark the place where the fairies have been dancing. 44. box: theatre box.
Ring: the circular driveway in Hyde Park frequented by ladies of fashion. 46. chair: sedan chair. 50. vehicles: bodies (Pope intends a pun linking vehicles with equipage and chair). 55. chariots: an eighteenth-century four-wheeled carriage but used in this context because of its epic appropriateness to the heroic action. 56.ombre: see below,
II, 27 ff. 57-66.
For when....
Air.
This passage refers to the theory of personality which relates the basic kinds of temperament to the predominance of one or another of the four elements (air, fire, water, earth).
Although the theory at times has been more generally held, it formed part of the Rosicrucian speculations from which Pope borrows his machinery. 61-62. away ... tea: a perfect rhyme in Pope's day (pronounced {_e}i). 70.
Assume ... please: cf. the angels in Paradise Lost.79. nymphs: here used in the sense of maidens.
Cf. dedicatory letter and line 62 where it refers to one of the four orders of Rosicrucian spirits. 105. who thy protection claim: i.e., claim the right to protect thee. 106.
Ariel: "a word from the Vulgate ... rendered altar"
ED).
The name is used in the Old Testament as a man's name and also occurs in Isaiah 29: 1-9, where it means "lion of God" and is applied to Jerusalem.
Milton used the name for a rebel angel and Shakespeare for his benign aery spirit in The Tempest.
In magical literature, the name is used for a spirit that controls the elements or planets. 108.
In the clear mirror: "[Pope] The language of the Platonists, the writers of the intelligible world of spirits, etc." 112. pious: dutiful, godly.115.
Shock.
The shock or shough was a special kind of lap-dog, hairy, curled, and rough all over. (Pope puns on the usual meaning of the word.) 119.
Wounds ... ardors: i.e., the exaggerated expression of the billet-doux. 121 ff.
In the Key to the Lock (see introduction above),
Pope calls attention to the parallel between these sacred rites of pride and the Mass.
Belinda is the priestess\; the maid, the inferior priestess or acolyte.
Pope also has in mind the hero arming for battle. 148.
Betty: a generic name for a lady's maid.
