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 Ludlbria lunae; or, The wars of the women 
 
 3 1924 013 467 356 
 
A Cornell University 
 y Library 
 
 The original of tliis book is in 
 tine Cornell University Library. 
 
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 the United States on the use of the text. 
 
 http://www.archive.org/details/cu31 92401 3467356 
 
LUDIBRIA LUNtE 
 
 OR, 
 
 THE WARS 
 
 OF THE 
 
 WOMEN AND THE GODS. 
 
 ^it %lhQaxitul ^mh&i{m. 
 
 BY 
 WILLIAM JOHN COURTHOPE. 
 
 LONDON: 
 SMITH, ELDER AND CO., is,.'WATERLOO PLACE 
 
 1869. 
 
 {The right of Tmnslaiion is reserved.'] 
 
TO 
 
 JOHN ADDINGTON SYMONDS, 
 
 IN TOKEN OF FRIENDSHIP, 
 AND 
 
 IN MEMORY OF MODENA, 
 
 I DEDICATE THESE PAGES. 
 
CONTENTS. 
 
 PAGE 
 
 Preface vii 
 
 Book I i 
 
 Book II 37 
 
 Book III 69 
 
 Book IV 105 
 
"Sensation, which means lively life, is the word of the epoch, and 
 we say that the word, like the thing, so far from being vulgar, or wrong, 
 or wicked, or distressing, is an excellent good characteristic of the wind 
 and bottom of the period, and a pledge that we shall come to something 
 or "other renjarkable before we lift these hounds of the hours and the 
 days from their present full cry." — Daily Telegraph, June, 2, 1868. 
 
 " Then we upon our world's last verge shall go, 
 And view the ocean leaning on the sky ; 
 From thence our rolling neighbours we shall know. 
 And on the lunar world securely pry." 
 
 Dryden'S Anmis Mirabilis. 
 
 " 'AXXd (TV, ii 0iXdnje, /tr> iraQigq avrb wpoe l/ii tJ at 9>iaavpovs 
 dvopvTTOvTa Kai Trfrojufii'ov Kai rivag ^vvoiag vTrspfveig iwoovvra, Kal 
 TivaQ iX'niSag dvtipiKTOvg iXml^ovTa, ^iXog iov, oil irepiitlov, ltd Travrog 
 Tov /3iou bviipifi, iiSii fiiv 'laaig, drap bvupif ye, avvovra, Siavaaravra 
 Si d^iu) nparruv ri tUv dvayxaiiav, Kai ae irapcTrl/^i/'ei Ig to Xoiirbv 
 TOV /3i'ow, TCi Koivd TavTa ippovovvTa' iirii ye vvv tTrpoTTtg xai iTrevoug, 
 oiiStv TU)v 'liriroKtVTavpiav Kal Xi/iaipiSv Kai ropyovwj/ Sia^epEi, Kai oaa 
 ahXa bvtipoty Kai irovtiTai, Kai ypa^tZg, IXevOepoi ovreg dvaTrXaTrovaiVf 
 ovTC yivofiiva iriairoTt, ovTt ycviaOai Svva/ieva' Kai oiioig 6 noXig Xiaig 
 inaTtvovinv avTolg, Kai KrjXovvrai, opuivTeg fi SiKovdvTtg rd TOtavTa, Std 
 TO ?£ia Kai dXXoKOTa elvai," — LuciAN : IJermotimus, 
 
PREFACE. 
 
 A WRITER, who adopts a prescribed form . of 
 poetry in a time when prescription of all sorts 
 is regarded almost with prejudice, has no right 
 to look for a very warm welcome from the 
 public. No great powers of perception are 
 required to understand that a pure revival of a 
 classical style would be inadequate for the satis- 
 faction of the present literary appetite. Power 
 of any sort, however rough, at least commands 
 respect, and the reader's intellectual vanity is 
 delicately flattered with the sense of having 
 deciphered what is obscure ; but to recognize 
 the plain usage of ruder times is to ignore the 
 urbanity of culture, and not to be unmistake- 
 ably original shows a blindness to the mission of 
 the modern Poet. Now, in a state of vigorous 
 
PREFACE. 
 
 literary lawlessness, a writer such as I have 
 spoken of must also be necessarily exposed to 
 peculiar dangers. from criticism. Even if he is 
 fortunate enough to be praised, it often happens 
 that he is credited by a friendly enthusiasm with 
 intentions which he never entertained. If, on 
 the other hand, he falls into the tender hands 
 of a professor of aesthetics, he is not unlikely to 
 be condemned upon abstract principles of poetry, 
 which are generally the more positively asserted 
 the more they diverge from poetical practice. 
 A judge of a conservative disposition will very 
 probably select some favourite poem as the 
 measure of right and wrong in the particular 
 style. In a time of undoubted cultivation it is 
 impossible not to feel some regret that, owing 
 to the rather revolutionary principles of our 
 poetry, and the consequent difficulty of defining 
 its liberties by the laws of Form, the critic 
 should be frequently completely in the dark as 
 to the motives of the author. 
 
 I hope, therefore, I may, without being 
 accused of overstepping my functions, show as 
 briefly as possible, by reference to precedent, 
 what I consider to be the laws and limits of 
 Burlesque. The first poem, that occurs to the 
 
PREFACE. ix 
 
 mind as an example of the burlesque style, is 
 the Rape of the Lock, and it would be impertinent 
 for me to bestow a word of praise on so great a 
 poem, even in a time which piques itself on 
 having surpassed the best works of Queen Anne's 
 era. I will only say, for my own purposes, 
 that the method by which Pope has produced 
 such a result is Paradox ; by which I mean the 
 quality that excites the fancy through the re- 
 presentation of events and persons either not 
 existent in, or exhibited in a manner contrary to, 
 the general order of nature. It is needless for me 
 to point out how all the most trivial occurrences 
 of life are elevated into fictitious dignity in 
 Pope's heroic style ; how the fancy is pleased by 
 the discovery of a new world and invisible 
 ministers in human affairs. A large demand is 
 madfe upon the reader's faith; but, the hypothesis 
 granted, there is nothing in the poem which the 
 severest logic could pronounce improbable. 
 
 The English reader is apt to imagine that 
 the Rape of the Lock exemplifies all the laws of 
 Burlesque. But there is another quality, not, 
 indeed, found in this poem, but entering largely 
 into the composition of other styles — Irony, 
 which, being much more complex in its nature 
 
X PREFACE. 
 
 than Paradox, is much harder to define. It may, 
 however, be described as the manner by which 
 a poet produces a sense of the ridiculous 
 without himself appearing to laugh ; and which, 
 therefore, is adapted to touch the more subtle 
 feelings, by rapid transitions from the absurd 
 to the graceful, the tender, or the pathetic. 
 Laughter is but a mask of feeling, and he who 
 can remove it will discover the features of 
 Melancholy. 
 
 Paradox and Irony may be united in the 
 same style. The union appears in its most 
 perfect form in the plays of Aristophanes. The 
 stage offers the happiest opportunities for Para- 
 dox, because the fancy readily accepts what is 
 immediately presented to the senses : and when, 
 therefore, we remember that the stage for which 
 he wrote was that of Athens, we cannot be sur- 
 prised that the brilliant genius of Aristophanes 
 should have produced burlesques, which have 
 never been equalled, and seldom approached. 
 Paradox and Irony in his hands are made to act 
 and react upon each other with perfect regularity. 
 We welcome, as if they were the friends of our 
 everyday life, the lovely floating choruses of 
 his Clouds and his delicately chattering Birds. 
 
PREFACE. , XI 
 
 We feel more strongly the tender grace and 
 sweet irony of the song of the Hoopoe to the 
 Nightingale after the buffoonery of Peisthetaerus 
 and Euelpides. And who has not perceived in 
 his heart a strange mixture of laughing and 
 crying on reading the address of the Birds to 
 the Children of Men ?— 
 
 " ayt Stj ijivmv avSpeg afiavpojiioi, ^iiWiav ysvsf irpoaonoioi, 
 dXtyoSpavEeg, irKoLGfiaTa irrjiXoVf UKioetSeCi fv\' dfisvijvd, 
 airTrjvee sfrj/iBpioi, raXaci fiporol, 6vspi£ eiKiXovtipoi, 
 irpoaxiTC Tov vovv rdig aOavdroig ruiiv, ToTg dikv kovai, 
 TOLC, aiOepioig, rdlaiv dyrjpifQ, toXq aipSira firiSoiikvoiaiv, 
 IV ciKovaavTie Tavra Trap' riiiSiv dpBotg irep'i tQv nertdpiiiv, 
 ^vaiv oiitivSv, yiviaiv re Bidv, irora/uiSv / 'EpE/3ouf t-e Xdovf «, 
 eldoree dpQuie, trap' i/iov 'npoSiK<{i xKaiiv liirriTi to Xoimv." 
 
 Irony has never reached so high a pitch. 
 There is but one who can compare with the 
 author of the Birds, and he is the author of 
 the Midsummer Night's Dream. The words 
 of Puck, — 
 
 " Lord, what fools these mortals be !" 
 
 which give the key-note of that play, might 
 almost make us believe in the transmigration of 
 souls — at any rate of the souls of poets. 
 
 But though Paradox and Irony have never 
 been, and probably never will be, united so 
 perfectly as in the genius of Aristophanes, 
 
xn PREFACE. 
 
 there have been some who, in their own way, 
 have made quite as remarkable use of Irony. 
 The poetry of the Italians has peculiar advan- 
 tages for the employment of this manner, on 
 account of the sweetness of their language. 
 Burlesque seems naturally to have taken firm 
 hold on the Italian genius, from the times of 
 their early sonnet-writers down to the period 
 of La Secchia Rapita. I need only mention, 
 however, the narrative styles of Ariosto and 
 Tassoni, the masters respectively of the 
 romantic and the serio-comic epic. 
 
 In the style of Ariosto the element of 
 Paradox is quite subordinate. It is, indeed, 
 true that the Orlando Furioso abounds in 
 persons and things which are not met with in 
 the world. Wizards, harpies, hippogriffs, goblins, 
 and fabulous fish, appear and play their part 
 with as much dash and spirit as the knights 
 themselves. But these are the children of 
 Turpin, not of Ariosto ; and the latter, instead 
 of surrendering himself, like Aristophanes, to 
 the enjoyment of his own Paradox, conceals a 
 vein of banter under the grave polish of that 
 musical stanza, in which he reproduces the 
 marvels of the Archbishop's chronicle. Care- 
 
PREFACE. xiii 
 
 less and prodigal, he does not attempt to make 
 the creatures of his Paradox into mouthpieces 
 for his allegory after the more artistic fashion 
 of Aristophanes. His work is like a skein of 
 many-coloured threads, each continuous yet 
 constantly lost sight of, — flashing in and out, 
 under and above, without entanglement, yet 
 without a plan. Thus — to take one instance of 
 loose construction — the hippogriff which carries 
 Astolfo over the whole face of the earth, is 
 put into a stall when he reaches the Earthly 
 Paradise, though the knight has still to perform 
 his journey to the Moon, and might very well 
 have been carried there on the back of so 
 astonishing an animal. We are conveyed to 
 the Moon with the Paladin and St. John in a 
 chariot of fire ; a supernatural vehicle, which of 
 course affords the poet fresh opportunities of 
 Irony, but which, being in Itself superfluous, 
 proportionately diminishes our belief in his 
 Paradox. Yet, strange as it may seem, this 
 studied negligence only intensifies the sense of 
 Irony which we experience throughout Ariosto's 
 wonderful poem. So grave is the style, so in- 
 variable the demureness, with which he changes 
 his key from marvellous to real, heroic to base, 
 
XIV PREFACE. 
 
 coarse to fine, light to serious, absurd to pathetic, 
 that even his disregard of unity seems only to 
 increase the charm of his manner. The reader 
 feels throughout that the poet is laughing at 
 him, and acknowledges that, if Ariosto has less 
 art and constructive power than Aristophanes, 
 he has, if possible, even more play. 
 
 The same features are repeated in Tassoni, 
 the inventor of the serio-comic epic, but they 
 appear in him less clear and prominent, partly 
 because of the more purely classical form of 
 his poem, partly because his genius is of an 
 alto'gether lighter calibre than that of the great 
 poet of Ferrara. He has Pope's love of incon- 
 gruity. The trivial subject of his poem, the 
 Rape of the Bucket, which produced the great 
 war between Modena and Bologna, gives fine 
 scope for Paradox, the sense of which is 
 heightened by the solemn deliberations of the 
 gods. But he has also, what Pope has not, the 
 genuine vein of Italian Irony. He frequently 
 pauses in the midst of his comic narrative to 
 mix the currents of feeling, by bringing in a 
 serious stanza or a beautiful passage. On the 
 other hand, his constructive talent is very 
 inferior* to that of Pope, and La Secchia 
 
PREEACE. XV 
 
 Rapita is little else than a brilliant succession 
 of burlesque episodes. 
 
 Such are the models which I have had 
 before my eyes. I am quite sensible that 
 I have fallen very far short of the high mark 
 which I proposed to myself : it is one thing 
 to see the end, another to command the means. 
 Still I have endeavoured to catch from the past 
 some faint echoes of its noble music, and to 
 combine them into a modern melody. My aim 
 has been to reproduce, to the best of my ability, 
 in the epic style, the allegorical spirit which 
 pervades the dramas of Aristophanes, and it 
 appeared to me that the best way of obtaining 
 such a result was by uniting the classical method 
 of Pope to the manner of the Italians. There 
 is nothing inharmonious in such a coalition ; 
 nor have I at all departed from national 
 precedent in looking to Italy for my models. 
 Italian literature is the elder sister of the English, 
 and the names of Chaucer, Spenser, and Byron, 
 show how the instinct of our poets in all times 
 has turned thither as the source of their inspira- 
 tion. The taste of our time has no doubt been 
 diverted into other channels. With the excep- 
 tion of Dante, the Italian classics are little read. 
 
xvi PREFACE. 
 
 yet I believe that, when clearness of intention 
 and simplicity of style are once more properly 
 valued, there will be no need for an English 
 writer to dwell with more detail on the prece- 
 dents of Italy than on those of his own country. 
 
BOOK I. 
 
ARGUMENT. 
 
 The World having now arrived at social perfection, Women alone 
 are excluded from the Rights of Nature. Cornelia, a learned virgin, 
 convokes a Woman's-Rights Convention, in which, after an exposition 
 of the wrongs of the Sex, she proposes to lead a Colony to the Moon, 
 and the immediate institution of a College to discover the art of Moon- 
 flying and other lunar accomplishments. The proposal being joyfully 
 accepted by the Assembly, the young and beautiful Celia objects to 
 the exclusion of men, but is answered by Sibylla, the Prophetess of 
 Progress, who denounces Love, and asserts the probability of new 
 vital conditions in the Moon. The Assembly is ended with a solemn 
 sacrifice to Progress. In the meantime Cornelia's winged Thought 
 flies into the Moon, which at this period is in the possession of the 
 Gods, who are represented as migrating thither after their expulsion 
 from Olympus. The Moon is then described as an airless and silent 
 solitude, the final abode (on the authority of Ariosto) of the foolish 
 Thouglits of Man, which move day and night before the Gods over 
 the Stage called the Paradise of Laughter. Cornelia's Thought, 
 having arrived on the Stage, delivers her message to the Gods, and 
 tliey, being cast into great terror, are addressed by Jove, and afterwards 
 by Love, who undertakes an enterprise against the Women. The Book 
 is concluded with the arming of Love and the laughter of the Gods. 
 
BOOK I. 
 
 Of wondrous worlds and Woman's wars, 
 I sing — how she, by Progress driven, 
 Raised high revolt, and when the bars 
 Of nature and old use were riven, 
 She mounted to the Moon and Stars, 
 And dared the silent Lords of Heaven. 
 Do thou, who didst behold these things, 
 Apollo, sound them on my strings. 
 
 II. 
 
 For when, by change of sun and shade, 
 Man's destinies, at length completed, 
 Had to perfection brought Free Trade ; 
 When none by weight or measure cheated ; 
 When each distinction, rank, and grade. 
 Was gone, and not a sewer was fetid ; 
 When Capital was friends with Labour, 
 And like himself each loved his neighbour ; 
 
LUDIBRIA LUN^. [book i. 
 
 III. 
 
 When Catholics (and mice forsooth ! ) 
 
 Were starved with fasting from church tapers ; 
 
 When Fancy, Liberty, and Youth, 
 
 Were schooled by Comte ; when farthing Papers 
 
 Had fathomed every virtuous Truth 
 
 (Excepting how to kill the vapours) ;> 
 
 When War and Murder were mere stories, 
 
 And younger sons were all grown Tories ; 
 
 IV. 
 
 When Bubble-blowing had gone by, 
 
 Though Greenbacks ousted gold and copper ; 
 
 When men in air like birds could fly. 
 
 And poets, lived like the old Grasshopper ; * 
 
 When laws of mental gravity 
 
 Proscribed all laughing as improper — 
 
 Woman, alone of biped wights. 
 
 Though perfect, still had nought but Rights. 
 
 In either House, by sages backed. 
 She'd pleaded from the Law of Nature ; 
 In vain ; the Parliaments were packed ; 
 And though a Liberal legislature 
 
 * Compare the account given by Plato, in the Phadrtis, of the 
 Golden Age of musitians and poets. 
 
HOOK I.] LUDIBRIA LUN^. 
 
 Had talked three Sessions of an Act 
 To add a cubit to man's stature, 
 They still denied the natural sequel, 
 That maids at least are free and equal. 
 
 VI. 
 
 AH maids were wroth ; but most of these 
 Cornelia, Poetess and Blue ; 
 Whom far from mortal marriages 
 The Muses to their mount withdrew. 
 Like Pindar, at her birth their bees 
 From her young lips had sucked sweet dew, 
 Which, ne'er replenished from that hour. 
 Had left her smile extremely sour. 
 
 VII. 
 
 Light as a butterfly, she'd dipt 
 Through all the sciences erratic : 
 'Tis true the Asses' Bridge she'd skipt. 
 Yet was by nature mathematic 
 As Archimedes : she'd have whipt 
 Porson himself for faults in Attic : 
 And — so she did her sex eclipse — 
 Could argue in a fine ellipse. 
 
 VIII. 
 
 In poetry, by turns she graced 
 The shepherd's pipe, the 13're, the buskin ; 
 And as for art, her trust she based 
 On the contemporary Ruskin ; 
 
LUDIBRIA LUN^. [book 
 
 She liked all schools, but found her taste 
 Most taken with the early Tuscan ; 
 And had she known two notes apart, 
 She would have dis-composed Mozart. 
 
 IX. 
 
 True child of sweetness and of light, 
 She was all Art from top to toes : 
 Art made her beauteous tresses bright, 
 Art arched the crescent brows that rose 
 O'er spectacles, which, left and right, 
 Saddled a (modern) Roman nose. 
 Some said by Rachel's arts her years 
 Had been renewed, and some — her ears. 
 
 Howe'er this be, there is no doubt 
 The wise Cornelia, brought to bay 
 By man's long tyranny, sent out 
 Swift petticoats one April day. 
 Bidding them town and country scout, 
 And scatter presents by the way, 
 Showing all people her intention 
 To hold a Woman's-Rights Convention. 
 
 XL 
 
 With that — as when some town-lodged wight, 
 (Whose thrifty maid by chance remembers 
 To wake him for the season's sight,) 
 In the November of Novembers, 
 
BOOK I,] LUDIBRIA LUN^. 
 
 Starts up, and sees the Cave of Night 
 Blaze, fire-like, from its starry embers. 
 And countless meteors earthwards rolled 
 In curves of purple, green, and gold ; 
 
 XII. 
 
 Or as some cat, discreet and wise, 
 But lean with crickets and long dearth. 
 Waits watchful, with half-open eyes. 
 At curfew, by the smouldering hearth ; 
 And soon the furry tribes of mice 
 From countless holes creep forth on earth, 
 Ten thousand : Hope her breast inspires. 
 Crackles her fur, her fancy fires — 
 
 XIII. 
 
 So when, responsive to her call, 
 Matron and maid, with swift returns. 
 Come pouring from the counties all. 
 With joy Cornelia's bosom burns. 
 How empty now (she thinks) each ball ! 
 How vainly sigh the queenless urns ! 
 The empty cups she seems to see, 
 Bereaved of gossip and of tea. 
 
 XIV. 
 
 Besides, her fancy she regales 
 With thought that never twilight tatting 
 Shall please again the eyes of males. 
 Nor candles gleam on fair white satin ; 
 
LUDIBRIA LUN^. [book i. 
 
 For maids so many, ev'n in tales 
 
 Of lying poets, Greek or Latin, 
 
 Had ne'er been found with maids to agree 
 
 Since your good times, Penthesile. 
 
 XV. 
 
 Ah ! did the maiden Muse not frown, 
 I'd bring my fancy's flower to fruit, 
 And paint you every various gown, 
 (Sweet language, eloquent though mute !) 
 Long trained, or circling like a crown 
 The ankle dipt in fairy boot ; 
 The fairy boot the foot should show. 
 The bend above, the arch below. 
 
 XVI. 
 
 Then should you have before your eyes 
 White Arctic fox (thrice happy vermin, 
 That died to gain such paradise 1) 
 Clasping their necks, or snowy ermine, 
 Smooth seal-skin in cross-fold, a prize 
 Snatched from the backs of diving mermen ; 
 Fine shawls with India's soft-edged bloom, 
 And scarves bright-striped in Roman loom. 
 
 XVII. 
 
 Nor less the tiny bonnet fair 
 
 Should perch — as when a moth caresses 
 
 A primrose — midway in the hair, 
 
 Where scarce 'tis spied, and never presses : 
 
BOOK I.] LUDIBRIA LUN^. 9 
 
 Above, Martello-wise, in air. 
 Should rise a tower of alien tresses ; 
 And many a head should woo the zone 
 With long love-ringlet — not its own.* 
 
 xvrii. 
 
 This Herrick might have done, not I ; 
 Yet do I know the fresh spring weather 
 Laughed with more sunlight to espy 
 So many pretty maids together ; 
 The birds sang in a bluer sky, 
 The thistledown and floating feather 
 ■ Came round their waists, and played coquettes 
 With pencil-beaux and vinaigrettes. 
 
 XIX. 
 
 To see them meet, retire, advance, 
 
 A sea of gowns in ebb and flow. 
 
 It might have been a virgin dance. 
 
 Or — since the most were white as snow — 
 
 As in an orchard, if by chance 
 
 The fresh spring winds the branches blow, 
 
 And blossoms, delicate and pale. 
 
 Bow every petal to the gale ; 
 
 * The idea of the chignon seems taken from Virgil's description of 
 grafting, — 
 
 " Ingens 
 Exiit ad coelum ramis felicibus arbos, 
 Miraturque novas frondes et non sua poma.'' 
 
 ViRG. ; Geoi-g. 2, 80. 
 
10 LUDIBRIA LUN^. [book i. 
 
 XX. 
 
 Or, as the Moors with hammers dark 
 Twice beat the bell in Venice Square, 
 Then the white pigeons of St. Mark, 
 All snow and sunshine, pair by pair, 
 Curve to the window in an arc. 
 To take their old appointed fare 
 Of finest meal — a sight more pretty- 
 Graces no European city ; 
 
 XXI. 
 
 Such was the host : but as some daw, 
 Grey-pated, blown by many gales, — 
 Whom Starlings rank in reverent awe 
 With Nestor for long-winded tales, — 
 Hops on the steeple with a caw. 
 And o'er his chattering friends prevails ; 
 So now, on platform high preferred, 
 Cornelia's queenly voice is heard. 
 
 XXII. 
 
 " Daughters of Eve ! best known by this, 
 Her daughters, as most prone to dare. 
 Still to attempt our province is. 
 And then persuade mankind to share : 
 If woman, in the hope of bliss, 
 Was first to fall, it is but fair. 
 Now we behold a certain prize. 
 Our sex should be the first to rise. 
 
BOOK I.] LUDIBRIA LUN.'E. II 
 
 XXIII. 
 
 " And us high courage more befits, 
 Ground as we are by tyrants hard. 
 For all that's won by woman's wits 
 As their monopolies men guard : 
 In Parliament no virgin sits. 
 From pulpit, wig, and gown debarr'd ! * 
 Forsooth ! 'tis portion of our curse, 
 To wed, have babies, cook, and nurse. 
 
 XXIV. 
 
 " When thus oppressed in days of old. 
 We read 'twas always woman's habit 
 To found far colonies, and hold 
 Waste islands with the gull and rabbit : -f- 
 
 * It is rather amusing to compare the opinion of Tiresias (who 
 had once himself been a woman) with tlie aspirations of modem ladies. 
 Menippus asks him whether the life of men or women is preferable. 
 Tiresias replies : — 
 
 " IlapaTroXti, ai Mkvnriri, 6 yvvawdoQ, dirpayjiovkiSTipoQ yap' Kal 
 SeajToZovat twv dvSpSiv ai yvvaXKis, xal ovtc iroXentlv dvdyia] airdis, 
 ovTt Trap' ewaXJti' kardvai, ovt kv iKKKria'u} SiaftpiaBai, ovr'iv SiKaariipiotg 
 i^iTdt,ea9ai " — 
 
 (" The Woman's, Menippus, much ; for it is a comparative hohday. 
 And the men are henpecked by the women ; nor are the latter obliged 
 to go into the army, or to become Volunteers, to talk in the House, or 
 to be called on juries.") — LuciAN : Dia/ogt Inferorum, 28. 
 
 t See Orlando Furioso, C. xxvii., for an account of the Settlement of 
 the Amazons, its origin, and customs. 
 
12 LUDIBRIA LUN^ [book i. 
 
 Maids nowadays are no less bold ; 
 But, ah ! there is no land to inhabit 1 
 Each mid-sea rock maintains its man ; 
 Yet for brave hearts I've still a plan. 
 
 XXV. 
 
 " There is a Continent of Light, 
 Ample, but tenantless, — for now 
 The Man, the Bush, the Lanthorn bright. 
 For hill and valley, all allow, — 
 A region that no mortal wight 
 Has reached, save that adventurous Cow, 
 Who, when the Dish purloined the Spoon, 
 Leapt over it — I mean the Moon. 
 
 XXVI. 
 
 " Hither with me mount those who dare : 
 Yet first upon our perils think : 
 How, when we've passed the outer air. 
 To gulfs of Nothing we may sink ; 
 Or we may find, once safely there, 
 We cannot breathe, nor eat, nor drink ; 
 For there's no water, as I'm told, 
 Nor air on that side we behold. 
 
 xxvir. 
 
 " But Hope supports my breast : I hear 
 From sages, whom to doubt were treason, 
 That in the other hemisphere 
 There's air ; at least, there is no reason 
 
BOOK I.] LUDIBRIA LUN^. 1 3 
 
 To show there's not ; and so 'tis clear.* 
 To these fair shores, in my good season, 
 I mean from slavery safe to fly ; 
 If not, at least free woman die. 
 
 * " The illustrious Hansen has held that it is quite possible that the 
 Lunarians, on the side away from us, may have both water and an 
 atmosphere." — The Heavens : A. Guillemin, p. 159. 
 
 Here is a sample of Transatlantic eloquence which will show that 
 woman is making satisfactory progress in the Christian virtues of Faith 
 and Hope : — 
 
 " Hope, smiling seraph ! beacon-light of every benighted mind ; 
 the rose that tinges every darkening cloud ; the mountain rock for 
 every incautious foothold ; the shelter from every portentous storm ! 
 Its cheering beams penetrate the miseries of life, and flood the soul with 
 the rapture of gladdening anticipations. 
 
 " To Man. If you lack faith in woman, review her history ; study it 
 heartily, seriously ; take no bird's-eye glance, no slight plunge into 
 the abyss of the past. Scan the motives upon which her conduct has 
 ever been based. How can you fail to believe in her ? And from the 
 past deduce the future. Woman, like yourself, has in her a mystery 
 of undeveloped power, living sources of thought. Her mission, it will 
 dawn upon you in the fulness of light. You will believe her worthy to 
 be your equal, and you will love to believe. 
 
 " Do what is right ! For the day-dawn is breaking. 
 Hailing a future of Freedom and Light ; 
 Angels above you are silent notes taking 
 Of every action ! Do what is right. 
 
 " Do what is right ! The shackles are falling, 
 Chains of the bondmen no longer are bright. 
 Lightened by hope, soon they'll cease to be galling ; 
 Truth goeth onward ! Do what is right. 
 
 " Do what is right ! Let the consequence follow ; 
 Battle for Freedom in spirit and might ; 
 And with stout hearts look ye forth to the morrow ; 
 God will protect you in doing what's right." 
 — Speech of Mrs. Coe, of Ohio, 
 in the Second National Wovian' s-Rights Convention. 
 
H " LUDIBRIA LUN^. Lbook i. 
 
 XXVIII. 
 " But first one riddle we must read, 
 Ere from this sphere we take our flight. 
 'Tis long since men of modern breed 
 Traversed with wings the airy height, 
 And, passing swallows at full speed, 
 Outsoared the daring Eagle's sight ; 
 Yet still one secret from our race 
 Is hidden — how to float in space. 
 
 XXIX. 
 
 " So, since our flesh by nature clings 
 To earth, and from dark sciences 
 We must invent moon-flying wings, 
 A Gothic Hall I've hired on lease, 
 Where every maid who hopes high things 
 Must graduate in high degrees ; 
 'Twixt Oxford reared, a modern growth, 
 And Granta, soon to eclipse them both. 
 
 XXX. 
 
 " Hither, to teach us arts, shall come 
 Professors from Lagado rare. 
 Who soar through Spiritland with Home, 
 Or Zadkiel's Almanacks prepare ; 
 Laws of perpetual motion some 
 Shall show us, some the circle square. 
 Close space in two straight lines, and strive 
 To prove that two and two make five. 
 
BOOK I.] LUDIBRIA LUN.«. 1 5 
 
 XXXI. 
 " Here, too, from Physics we must learn 
 To make our bodies light as dreams ; 
 Here frame a Code of Morals stern, 
 Such as the lunar world beseems. 
 Truth's naked self we shall discern 
 In systems, and such soaring schemes 
 As by the merry Greeks were sung. 
 And are performed by Brigham Young. 
 
 XXXII. 
 
 " Then when, in abstract problems versed, 
 We've learned our senses to perplex. 
 We'll mount at once and dare the worst ; 
 For if good Fortune save our necks. 
 Two worthy ends we gain — the first. 
 Destruction to the hated sex,* 
 
 * I cannot illustrate Cornelia's feeling better than by -the pretty 
 poetry of Miss Abby IC. Price, read in the first National Woman's- 
 Rights Convention, — 
 
 " Wait, boastful man ! Tho' worthy are 
 Thy deeds when thou art true, 
 Things worthier still and hoUer far 
 
 Our Sisters yet will do. 
 For this the worth of woman shows. 
 
 On every peopled shore, — 
 That still as man in wisdom grows 
 He honours her much more. 
 
 " Oh, not for wealth, or fame, or power. 
 Hath man's meek angel striven. 
 But, silent as the growing flower, 
 To make of earth a heaven ! [" Soon 
 
1 6 LUDIBRIA LUN^. [book 
 
 Their wives being gone ; for ours a fame 
 Beyond great Orontea's name." * 
 
 XXXIII. 
 
 She said. With shouts her friends reply, 
 And swear against mankind alliance : 
 Some lift stilettoes to the sky, 
 Some with their bodkins hurl defiance, 
 And one (who squinted) vowed to die 
 Chaste as Lucrece for abstract science. 
 Such salves are found for spinsters' smarts 
 Moonshine and Bachelors of Arts ! 
 
 XXXIV. 
 
 The echoes still roused wood and hill 
 When Celia followed, — Celia, queen 
 Of blondes, Venetian-haired, but still 
 With eyes like sloes, who, scarce eighteen. 
 And oft in Lancers, or quadrille. 
 Or livelier galop, lightest seen. 
 In sudden whim had sought retreat 
 And wisdom at Cornelia's feet. 
 
 *' Soon in her garden of the Sun, 
 
 Heaven's brightest rose shall bloom, 
 For woman's best is unbegun. 
 Her advent yet to come." 
 
 Orontea was Queen of the Cretan Amazons, described by Ariosto. 
 
BOOK I.] LUDIBRIA LUN.E. 1 7 
 
 XXXV. 
 
 " Though wise the plan," she said, " and soon 
 To be performed, in part you stray ; 
 For if no men into the Moon 
 We take, we too must die as they. 
 A mortal husband for no boon 
 Would Celia honour or obey ; 
 Yet, sure, the woman's but a fool 
 Who would not wish for things to rule. 
 
 XXXVI. 
 
 " Slave though I be, yet, as coquette, 
 'Tis sweet to make our tyrants chafe ; 
 Victories behind the fan to get ; 
 To be so rude and yet so safe ; 
 To trample on a baronet ; 
 To treat a marquis as a waif ; 
 And, O ye Gods, excuse my faults ! 
 I own that I adore a waltz ! 
 
 XXXVII. 
 
 " Besides, who knows what spectral host 
 The Moon may breed, to life and purse 
 Sworn foes, — Cock-Horse, Hobgoblin, Ghost, 
 Chimsera, Atomy, or worse 
 Than ever brain of childhood crossed, 
 Or lived in legend of a nurse .'' 
 Say, can we hope to keep the peace 
 Without patrols and male police .' " 
 
1 8 LUDIBRIA LUN^. [book i. 
 
 XXXVIII. 
 
 Thus she. Sibylla answered straight, 
 
 (Inspired priestess, who receives 
 
 From Progress all designs of Fate, 
 
 And oracles in mystery weaves.* 
 
 Nor loves she to vaticinate, 
 
 Like Cumse's seer, from scattered leaves, f 
 
 But in her cave mankind invites 
 
 To patch up Truth from " Broken Lights ") : 
 
 XXXIX. 
 
 " Too well, though dark, your words confess 
 Your heathen God, unhappy maid ; 
 How many a fair idolatress 
 In the old world has he betrayed, 
 
 * Here is a specimen of a modem oracle, which, for caution and 
 ambiguity, may stand comparison with anything that ever came out of 
 Delphi :— 
 
 " Such, we may hope, may be the progress of human thought, and 
 the process of the growth of the religion of the Future, if it be allowed 
 to expand naturally and beautifully. If, on the other. hand, the oppo- 
 sition against it be so bitter, and the forces of Traditionalism ranged so 
 determinately in opposition as to bar every step of advance, then, indeed, 
 none may say what course things may take. Reformation arrested 
 becomes Revolution. On him who would stop the wheels of the Chariot 
 of Progress must lie the blame of the inevitable overthrow that will 
 ensue. " — Broken Lights, by Frances Power Cobbe. It must be 
 acknowledged that this feminine way of "hedging" a prophecy is 
 uncommonly neat, 
 t " Verum eadem, verso tenuis quum cardine ventus 
 Impulit, et teneras turbavit janua frondes, 
 Nunquam deinde cavo volitantia prendere saxo. 
 Nee revocare situs, aut jungere carmina curat : 
 Inconsulti abeunt, sedemque odere Sibyllse."— ViRG. : /En. 3, 448. 
 
"OOK I.] LUDIBRIA LUN^ I9 
 
 Love, once adjudged divine ! nor less 
 His idle spectre has been laid 
 With Bourbons, crinolines, and crochet, 
 Ever since the days of Ahh6 Fauchet. • 
 
 XL, 
 " The little fool is never found 
 Where Women have abjured the needle ; 
 In all our clubs he is discrowned ; 
 And now the veriest Parish Beadle 
 May clap him in the Stocks or Pound, 
 Like Hudibras, howe'er he wheedle ; 
 So banished hence, a pretty tune 
 He's like to whistle in the Moon. 
 
 XLI. 
 " On earth I own no science shows 
 How singly to prolong existence ; 
 The Moon fresh methods may disclose. 
 As for those beasts that at this distance 
 You fear, — all colonists have foes. 
 Have we not Truth, Tracts, Steam, Rods, Pistons ? 
 Doubt you with these our mighty era 
 May civilize the worst chimaera .'' 
 
 * The masculine exponent of ' ' Woman's Rights " in the French 
 Revokition, 
 
20 LUDIBRIA LUN^. [book i. 
 
 XLII. 
 
 " Me, me my God, swift Progress, showed 
 The Moon's far future in my cell : 
 There saw I telegraph and road, 
 Old Tycho spanned by female Fell ; 
 Beside the Sea of Clouds abode 
 Our judges ; by the Pit of Hell* 
 I saw (O joyful Revolution !) 
 A Working Woman's Institution. 
 
 XLIII. 
 
 " Then fear not from Mankind to elope. 
 Fair Ceha, nor to Love hold fast. 
 But seek this College of Good Hope, 
 Hired by our wise Iconoclast. 
 And now let all who with clear scope 
 The Future seize, who hate the Past, 
 To Progress bend the reverent knee. 
 And make high sacrifice with me ! " 
 
 XLIV. 
 She said : and, with her hair iindone. 
 Of twelve band-boxes made a pyre ; 
 Bright balls of worsted, half a ton. 
 Succeed ; love-letters pile it higher : 
 
 * This is only a mountain, dear reader, in the N. hemisphere of the 
 Moon. 
 
BOOK I.] LUDIBRIA LUN^. 21 
 
 And next, of nine fair pug-dogs one 
 She chose by lot to feed the fire : * 
 Thy thread, poor Beau, the eternal Shears 
 Then cut, nor pitied Celia's tears. 
 
 XLV. 
 
 The torch is lit ; up shoot the flames ; 
 Sibylla for the maddening crews 
 A solemn Commination frames : 
 " Cursed be she who deigns to use 
 The needle, who no Franchise claims ; 
 Who has no faith in Broad Church ' views,' "l- 
 Or of our holy priests makes japes ; 
 Who think all women once were apes. 
 
 * A customary rite in all ages at high sacrifices. Achilles made 
 the same offering to the shade of Patroclus : 
 
 "'Evvea Tifi ye avaicn rpaTe^^tg Kvvce ijcav, 
 Kat fUv tUv IvipaWt irvpy Bio SeipoTOftiiaas." 
 
 " Of nine large dogs, domestic at his board, 
 Fall two, selected to attend their lord."— Pope. 
 
 t The Rev. Fred. W. Higginson, U. S., evidently has but a small 
 acquaintance with England. He says, " Every woman in Massachusetts 
 has her ' views ' upon every subject. It is true that English women 
 have superb frames, grand muscles, fine energies, that they speak two 
 or three languages, but then they usually don't have any ' views : ' 
 and, thank God, I live in a State where women have them. "— j?^/«V 
 of Seventh Women's- Sights Convention, p. 33. 
 
22 LUDIBRIA LVNJE. [book l 
 
 XLVI. 
 
 " Cursed be she by all the Nine, 
 Who swears an oath by Venus' doves ; 
 Who sends or gets a Valentine ; 
 Who wins at Ascot bet of gloves ; 
 Who pays no vows at Progress' shrine. 
 Or votive thimble hangs in Love's : 
 Cursed be she who looks on men." 
 And all but Celia said " Amen ! " 
 
 XLVII. 
 
 But she, though feigning to submit. 
 Recalls, poor maid, her luckless Beau : 
 How on hind legs he used to sit 
 With pendent paws of speechless woe ; 
 His courtly parts> his native wit. 
 His tail, — and now a shade below ! 
 The locket heaving on her breast. 
 And trembling lip, her grief confessed. 
 
 XLvni. 
 
 Meantime Cornelia's winged Thought 
 Soared from the cavern of her brain. 
 And the vast void of vacuum sought : 
 Through two score miles of wind and rain 
 It passed ; then to the limits brought 
 The nymphs of Light relieved its pain. 
 Bore it through easy space, and soon 
 Set down the traveller in the Moon. 
 
BOOK I.] LUDIBRIA LUN^. 23 
 
 XLIX. 
 Now in the Moon the outcast Gods 
 Abode ; for since mankind's ingratitude 
 Had ploughed. Olympus into clods, 
 And Ordnance surveys found Heaven's latitude, 
 Jove, seeing all his awful nods 
 Unheeded, and himself a platitude, 
 Resolved to leave this world and us, 
 Leading a heavenly Exodus. 
 
 L. 
 So after endless voyages, 
 Hovering in space, like flocks of Gannet, 
 And sick for their primeval ease, 
 At last they pitched upon this planet ; 
 And charmed with what are called its " seas," * 
 (Just as we say the " Isle of Thanet ") 
 Made a mock heaven — as Madam Hector 
 A Troy — beside the Sea of Nectar. 
 
 LI. 
 
 But stranger and more awful far 
 Is that new heaven ; for there no hum 
 Of life is heard ; no trade nor war 
 Disturb the silence ; all is dumb. 
 
 * "Of old the name of 'Seas' was given to the large dark spots 
 which mottle the Moon's northern hemisphere and part of the southern 
 one towards the west and east. The name is still retained, though its 
 literal meaning must not be attached to it. The lunar seas are now 
 regarded as plains." — The Heavens, p. 141. 
 
24 LUDIBRIA LUN^. [book i. 
 
 Over the vast and voiceless star 
 No momentary motions come. 
 No wind, nor fire, nor snow, nor rain. 
 Shall ever beat its face again. 
 
 LII. 
 
 Or if at times some loosened rock 
 
 Dash down the niountain, bound on bound, 
 
 Crag meeting crag in thunder shock 
 
 Of conflict, yet there comes no sound. 
 
 Such battle seems the more to mock 
 
 The melancholy peace around ; 
 
 As he who living passed in dread 
 
 The voiceless gapings of the Dead.* 
 
 LIII. 
 
 Oft the deep silences arouse 
 
 Thoughts of some ancient human reign ; 
 
 And if 'twas ever populous 
 
 With mortal pleasure, love, and pain ; 
 
 So in some old and empty house 
 
 We feel the fever of our braiB, 
 
 That warmth, and breath, and speech revives, 
 
 And footfalls of a thousand lives. 
 
 * "At Danafim proceres AgamemnoniEeque phalanges, 
 Ut videre virum, fulgentiaque arma per umbras, 
 Ingenti trepidare metu : pars vertere terga, 
 Ceu quondam petiere rates ; pars toUere vocem 
 Exiguam : inceptus clamor frustratur hiantes." 
 
 ViRG. : ^n. 6, 490. 
 
BO'^K I.] LUDIBRIA LUN^. 25 
 
 LIV. 
 
 Strange Humour all the place attires ; 
 Sweet Paradox the fancy wakes ; 
 There with the Sun the starry choirs 
 Shine unabashed, like morning rakes ; 
 There the volcanoes have no fires ; 
 There is no water in the lakes ; 
 The axis through the airless deep 
 Whirls on, but moves not, in its sleep. 
 
 LV. 
 
 Hence it may be that here post-haste. 
 By some magnetical attraction. 
 Flies up (for Nature knows no waste) 
 Man's every foolish thought and action. 
 This astronomic truth you traced, 
 And proved the same to satisfaction. 
 Who first the Moon's far frontiers crossed, O 
 Poet of Poets, Ariosto.* 
 
 * See the exquisitely ironical Canto xxxiv. of tlie Orlando Furioso. 
 St. John mounts with Astulph into the Moon, the store-house of all 
 human vanities. In Ariosto's poem everything is represented as dead. 
 1 give one stanza as a sample of his description : — 
 " Le lacrime e i sospiri degli amanti, 
 
 L'inutil tempo che si perde a giuoco, 
 
 E I'ozio lungo d'uomini ignoranti, 
 
 Vani disegni che non han mai loco ; 
 
 I vani disideri sono tanti 
 
 Che la piu parte ingombran di quel loco : 
 
 Ci6 che in somma quaggiu perdesti mai, 
 
 Lassu salendo ritrovar potai." 
 
 The advance of astronomy since the days of Ariosto alone encou- 
 rages me to transform the conception of the most inimitable of poets. 
 
26 LUDIBRIA LUN^. [book i. 
 
 LVI. 
 
 For Thought, that is of Silence born, 
 Return to its own country craves, 
 And from man's brain set free, forlorn, 
 Flies wandering over hills and waves ; 
 Yet neither in the quiet corn 
 Finds refuge, no, nor in the graves. 
 The air with life seems all atune ; 
 At last it seeks the airless Moon. 
 
 LVII. 
 
 , Behind each Thought the winged Words 
 Mount in the livery of their Master : 
 Much swifter they than swiftest birds, 
 But Thought than lightning-flash is faster ; 
 So when they pass the air that girds 
 Our planet, these endure disaster, 
 And Space being lighter far than Sound, 
 They sink to the infinite profound. 
 
 LViir. 
 
 But the swift Thoughts, like Mercury shod. 
 Now mounted to their goal, assume 
 Their thinker's form, and to each God 
 Make play, like spectres of the tomb : 
 Pleased with a spectacle so odd, 
 The Gods, who first were plunged in gloom. 
 Made them a stage, and ever after 
 Called it the Paradise of Laughter. 
 
BOOK 1.] LUDIBRIA LUN^.. 2/ 
 
 LIX. 
 
 And here they sit, and age by age 
 Still finds them in the same pursuit. 
 The ceaseless silent pilgrimage 
 Of actors, and the audience mute, 
 A man might deem it was the stage 
 Of Athens, wanting voice and flute, 
 The drama his, save for the words. 
 Who made the Cloud-Town of the Birds. 
 
 LX. 
 
 Ah ! could we to that Play-house pass. 
 And learn what all this mystery means. 
 How should we then our world re-class ! 
 There naked thought no language screens, 
 Each is as true as to his glass. 
 And plays his life behind the scenes. 
 The Gods with silent joy surprise 
 Bright laughter in each other's eyes. 
 
 LXI. 
 
 From North, and South, and East, and West, 
 
 They see uprising into light 
 
 The buried silence of each breast. 
 
 Dark Thoughts of Vanity and Night ; 
 
 Ambitions, Envies unexpressed, 
 
 Dim Fears that language hid from sight. 
 
 And all the heart most deeply feels. 
 
 And hence most virtuously conceals. 
 
28 LUDIBRIA LUN^. [BOOK i. 
 
 LXII. 
 
 Here meet all ages, bond and free^ 
 Greeks, Turks, Gauls, Germans, Jews, Circassians, 
 All that is thought on land or sea, 
 King's secrets, and the ploughman's passions, 
 Unsurpliced priest, or devotee 
 Pondering in church on Paris fashions, 
 Or poet in a Hymn to Duty- 
 Startled by sudden " Et tu. Brute ! " 
 
 LXIII. 
 
 Ye Gods, whom Thought alone can reach, - 
 Consider ye our world is spinning 
 With roar and rise of Babel speech, 
 Just as it was in the beginning ; 
 Yet each with heart unknown to each. 
 Goes ever struggling, losing, winning. 
 And of his neighbour talks so loud 
 That self is silenced in the crowd ? 
 
 LXIV. 
 
 Now as like gentles of Vandyke 
 
 The Gods reposed, it chanced (for lately. 
 
 From New York West to Eastern Sikh, 
 
 Thoughts had come sadly and sedately, 
 
 All as respectably alike 
 
 As syllogisms of Mill or Whately) 
 
 Phoebus, the actors to inspire. 
 
 Rang out this ballad on his lyre : 
 
BOOK I.] LUDIBRIA LUN^. 29 
 
 LXV. 
 
 " Laughter, last legacy of Earth 
 Left to the Gods, light child of Folly, 
 For loved by Wit she gave thee birth, 
 Sister to Love and Melancholy ; 
 Thou art the maiden friend of Mirth, 
 Nor yet to tears a stranger wholly ; 
 Sweeter than nectar that they quaff 
 To hearts celestial is to laugh. 
 
 LXVI. 
 
 " Though on a world grown inly cold, 
 For evermore we ride through Space, 
 Though roofless lie in Psestum old 
 The ruined temples of our race : 
 Which, dreaming still an Age of Gold, 
 With Age of Dollars men replace ; 
 If geese be swans, and wheat seem chaff, 
 More reason for the Gods to laugh. 
 
 LXVII. 
 
 " The Earth of old was made with rings. 
 That fell like fire-flakes from the Sun ; 
 Hence sprang the Apes, to Apes the Kings 
 Succeeded, now their sand is run ; 
 The needy bard the People sings. 
 The Many press upon the One ; 
 Yet after all, 'tis half and half, 
 The Many talk, the One may laugh. 
 
30 LUDIBRIA LUN^. [book i. 
 
 LXVIII. 
 
 " For men must pass ; the Many miss 
 True Wisdom ; mortal is each state ; 
 Only the Soul immortal is, 
 Disdain and Envy, Love and Hate, 
 And thou, O Laughter, even in this 
 More strong than Kings, since free from Fate ; 
 Let Clotho hold the threads and staff; 
 Come weal, come woe, the Gods shall laugh." 
 
 LXIX. 
 
 He ceased : nor had a mortal ear 
 Known he had sung : no echoes roll. 
 As through our airs terrestrial here ; 
 But Silence sounds from soul to soul. 
 And now Cornelia's Thought grew clear 
 Before them : o'er their hearts then stole 
 Fresh Laughter, for in form and feature 
 They ne'er had seen so strange a creature. 
 
 LXX. 
 Her wig with travel was awry. 
 From top to toe she looked one blue ; 
 Yet told her tale with gestures high. 
 And faced unawed the heavenly crew. 
 These first looked on with laughing eye, 
 Soon in their hearts strange horror grew ; 
 Cold the celestial ichor ran ; 
 Silent they sat, till Jove began : 
 
KOOK I.] LUDIBRIA LUN^. 3 1 
 
 LXXI. 
 
 " Are we those deities who rolled 
 Destruction on the impious giants ? 
 And sit we timorous now and cold, 
 Shrinking at Woman's weak defiance ? 
 Alas ! we are not the gods of old ; 
 Our bolts will barely match man's science : 
 Bolts did I say ? In this cold world 
 There's not a fireball to be hurled. 
 
 LXXII. 
 
 " But while we lack even arms like these, 
 Behold on earth what things are done ; 
 They've bored the mountains, bridged the seas, 
 Their wires beneath the ocean run ; 
 To utmost air they mount with ease ; 
 'Tis said they've even weighed the sun ; * 
 Typhoeus' old unwieldy plot 
 Had thriven, had he been leagued with Watt. 
 
 LXXIII. 
 
 " Some think these women's hearts to gain. 
 Fools ! will they yield to our embrace. 
 Like Danae or Alcmena fain ? 
 Stars then we gave them for their grace ; 
 
 * " The weight of the Sun may thus be expressed in tons : — 
 2, 154, 106,580,000,000,000,000,000,000. 
 It ranks, as we see, among those numbers which present nothing to the 
 mind, and leave the imagination itself powerless." — TAe Heavens, p. 25. 
 
LUDIBRIA LUN^. [book i. 
 
 The Stars themselves they now attain ; 
 Besides I own — Cornelia's face ! 
 O friends ! what boots it to be brave, 
 If neither Love nor War can save ? 
 
 LXXIV. 
 
 " Home of the Gods ! was ever Lar 
 So travel-tost by Time as yours ? 
 What world so perilous or far, 
 But Man some entrance there procures ? 
 Oh where's the planet or fixed star 
 Safe from Commissioners of Sewers ? 
 But those who counsel war or flight. 
 Now speak. Arede, ye Gods, aright." 
 
 LXXV. 
 
 Then answered Love — for Love the most 
 At bold Cornelia's message smarts. 
 For all the Gods had heard him boast. 
 Lord, so he said, of women's hearts — 
 " Have you, my sire, indeed so lost 
 All memory of those mortal parts .' 
 Well ! If Jove's love to moonshine fades 
 Let our Diana speak for maids.* 
 
 * Diana, it is scarcely necessary to inform my readers, had a secret 
 love affair with Endymion. 
 
BOOK I.] LUDIBRIA LUN^. 
 
 LXXVI. 
 
 "Too long, since we left home in Greece, 
 You've let the world grow fat in order ; 
 Love only dares disturb Man's peace. 
 And still contests the airy Border. 
 Little care I for his police ; 
 I laugh to scorn each grim Recorder : 
 Still I go free the whole earth through, 
 Still all Lucretius said is true. 
 
 LXXVII. 
 
 "But knowing all, the mortal world, 
 I've fathomed most the female sex. 
 And woman's banner, when unfurled, 
 Bears still this motto, — ' I perplex.' 
 Laugh on, though all her threats be hurled, 
 Nor let this Thought your courage vex. 
 The cause be mine ; the boastful foe 
 Shall find that Love has still a bow.'' 
 
 LXXVIII. 
 
 So spoke the Babe, and seemed to swell 
 
 With pride ; already he's afield ; 
 
 His stature rises to an ell ; 
 
 Proudly he calls for shaft and shield : 
 
 Nor did he read the future well. 
 
 Nor Atropos his fate revealed ; 
 
 For well alone of all their kind 
 
 Are Love and Justice painted blind. 
 
 3 
 
 33 
 
34 LUDIBRIA -LVNM. [book i. 
 
 LXXIX. 
 Then round him pressed each Heavenly Dame ; 
 Some pat his shoulder, pinch his cheek, 
 Some from his lips sweet kisses claim. 
 And curtsey with mock reverence meek. 
 Only Diana, for pure shame, 
 Was silent, shot with arrowy pique ; 
 For, keeping still her virgin tone 
 Austere, she'd hoped her loves unknown. 
 
 LXXX. 
 
 Now of his little winged grooms 
 One his light bow and quiver gets, 
 Another smooths his shining plumes, 
 A third his shafts on moonstone whets ; 
 This gives his golden curls new blooms, 
 And brings him charms and amulets. 
 Armlets, and rings in nightly raid 
 Oft stol'n from fair unrobing maid. 
 
 LXXXI. 
 
 They arm his brow, and set thereon 
 A star, like glowworm's lamp when eves 
 Grow warmer ; on his bosom shone 
 The Garter, hope of amorous thieves ; 
 , And, more to enchant each female don, 
 He wore blue stockings for his greaves ; 
 Hoping they'd take himself to be 
 A Doctor of Divinity. 
 
BOOK I.] LUDIBRIA LUN.«. 35 
 
 Lxxxir. 
 
 Besides, to increase the pleasing dream, 
 A cap and gown Minerva brought, 
 Last memories of her Academe ; 
 Then Mercury's sandals he besought. 
 Such arms unvanquishable seem, 
 Matched with Cornelia's maiden Thought ; 
 And sweetly laughed the Gods above, 
 Saying, " How high a lord is Love ! " 
 
BOOK II. 
 
ARGUMENT. 
 
 Love, having descended to Cornelia's College, falls asleep in the 
 garden, where, being found by Celia, and awaked, he shoots his arrows 
 at the Women, and is whipped by Sibylla and Cornelia. Returning to 
 the Moon, he is mocked by Hercules, but shows the Gods Cornelia's 
 glove, the vast size of which inspires them with terror. Upon this 
 Saturn upbraids Jove for his desire of change, and shows the result 
 of Whiggism ; and Jove in turn casting the blame upon Minerva and 
 her Philosophers, they are both rebuked by Venus, who bids them 
 leave all consideration of what is changeable in Man, and to reflect 
 instead on the eternal and immutable conditions of human passion. 
 She declares her intention of taking the field, and then flies to the 
 Cave of Momus, gaoler of Men's Dreams and Vanities, from whom she 
 begs assistance. Being furnished by Momus with an idle Dream, .she 
 sends him to the Earth, and he, visiting the soul of Amadis in his sleep, 
 persuades him that a new era of chivalry has begun, and inspires him, 
 in emulation of Britomart, to enter Cornelia's Collie in woman's 
 attire. Amadis, setting forth upon his adventure, finds the Women 
 sitting round a fountain in their quadrangle, and is matriculated into 
 the College. 
 
BOOK II, 
 
 I. 
 
 Da\ Phcebus, with the Crab, once more 
 Had waked the earth to hear the ditty 
 That the first nightingales out-pour, 
 And frogs in amorous committee, 
 When Love, the Httle Bachelor, 
 To war with maidens old or pretty. 
 Left the Moon's circle, and came down 
 To mortals, clad in cap and gown. 
 
 II. 
 
 Our earth he reached, with many a sneeze 
 Descending ; round his every limb 
 The air grew purple, and the seas ; 
 Bright larks in troop escorted him. 
 And swandown, buoyant on the breeze. 
 So fared he, and when day was dim. 
 Tired with his travel since the dawn, 
 Dropt on Cornelia's College lawn. 
 
40 LUDIBRIA LUNi^i. [book u. 
 
 III. 
 
 Here o'er the grass the immortal Boy 
 Went dancing through the dews and flowers : 
 It makes his bosom move with joy- 
 To feel the young. light-hearted Hours, 
 That by green bush and bankside toy 
 On Earth's deep bosom fresh with showers. 
 The leaves new-born, and everything 
 Wistful awhile in Hope and Spring. 
 
 IV. 
 
 Soon, while the darkening leaves are stirred 
 By sleepy linnets in the willows, 
 And scarce a human sound is heard. 
 His head upon his arm he pillows. 
 And soothed by one melodious bird. 
 Forgetting all his peccadilloes. 
 And all his arts and counsels deep. 
 And bow and arrows, — falls asleep. 
 
 V. 
 
 Now, while he slept, unto that part 
 CorneHa came ; for the sweet time 
 Had moved strange pleasure in her heart : 
 Came Pastorella, skilled in rhyme ; 
 Sibylla, Grotia, one in art. 
 And one in prophecy sublime ; 
 And Lydia frank, and more as well. 
 All known to fame, " but long to tell." 
 
BOOK II. j LUDIBRIA LUNyE. 4 1 
 
 VI. 
 
 Cornelia, who the day had spent 
 Modelling Republics, Greek or Roman, 
 Now, in sweet relaxation, bent 
 Her wise discourse upon a gnomon. 
 All up and down the grass-plot went. 
 Regardless of the little bowman. 
 Who, 'neath a rosebush, just aside. 
 Lay unespying, unespied. 
 
 VII. 
 
 But Celia, all alone and free. 
 Behind this company had strayed in 
 A labyrinth of sweet reverie - 
 Because her soul was heavy laden 
 With knowledge. On a sudden she 
 Came on the sleeping God. The maiden 
 Sprang back, and felt her bosom's kernel 
 Pierced through with soft desires maternal. 
 
 VIII. 
 
 One arm out of his sleeve was cast. 
 
 And his loose quiver's scarlet thread 
 
 Across his snowy bosom passed ; 
 
 His cap lay by his curly head. 
 
 Celia stooped down and caught him fast. 
 
 Then with a thousand kisses, sped 
 
 Among her sisterhood to bring 
 
 Sight of this new and strange plaything. 
 
LUDIBRIA LUN^. [book ii. 
 
 IX. 
 
 Love, thus aroused, winked, stared, then laughed, 
 And, still in Celia's bosom, dre^ 
 His silken string, while shaft on shaft 
 He shot like sunbeams ; but the crew, 
 Who now too late perceived his craft. 
 Fled past as Dryads o'er the dew ; 
 Mixed pleasure, pain, and fear they feel. 
 And wounds they scarcely care to heal. 
 
 X. 
 
 While Celia stanched her bosom's flow. 
 Yet held the archer on his perch, 
 Cornelia snatched the Babe, and now 
 The bold Sibylla flies to search 
 For weapon from the penal bough. 
 'Tis found : Cornelia takes the birch : 
 The tyrant, like a netted fly. 
 Kicks idly, then begins to cry. 
 
 XI. 
 
 But all in vain ; the rod bestains 
 His back with red, and, " Let your play be 
 Confined," she cries, " to idle brains, 
 And hearts of men ! Go, foolish Baby, 
 And tell your mother of your pains ; 
 Bear, too, Cornelia's glove : it may be 
 She, if she seek these haunts, even she, 
 Shall fare the same : '' then sets him free. 
 
BOOK II.] LUDIBRIA LUN/E. 43 
 
 XII. 
 Back, like a wounded duck, he flew, 
 With crippled wings and broken bow ; 
 The Stars wept down redoubled dew, 
 And pitying bats bewailed his woe ; 
 But Wisdom's bird, with loud " Tu-whoo ! " 
 Spied from the barn his ancient foe. 
 And left his mice, and through the night 
 Pressed hooting on the Archer's flight. 
 
 XIII. 
 
 Scarce had he crossed the immediate miles 
 Of Space, when oh ! what tongue can say- 
 How Heaven broke out in radiant smiles .' 
 Was this, they thought, the Champion gay 
 Who, in his beauty and his wiles, 
 Went out to war at break of day .' 
 But while the more part speechless sit, 
 Alcides thus approves his wit : 
 
 XIV. 
 
 " Hail Conqueror ! Yet, methinks, the fight - 
 Has cost our Cupid dear in plumes : 
 What brooch-pin, what stiletto bright 
 Robbed you in -battle of your blooms .'' 
 Describe what arrowy needle flight 
 You felt, what bottles of perfumes. 
 Did Nemean Kitten, hard to die. 
 Wound you, or Cerberus fetched from Skye .'' " * 
 
 ' Alcides takes occasion to reflect with more point on the weakness 
 
44 LUDIBRIA LVNM. [book ii. 
 
 XV. 
 
 But as some Pygmy, whose escape 
 Is noised abroad, in Falstaff's vein 
 Paints to the crowd the enormous shape. 
 Legs, bill, and pinions of the Crane ; 
 So Cupid tells them of his rape, 
 His idle arrows, and his pain ; 
 " Giants," he cries, " have vanquished Love," — 
 Then shows for proof Cornelia's glove. 
 
 XVI. 
 
 Around the glove the Immortals come, 
 And view the vast expanse of thread. 
 How huge a gulf betwixt the thumb 
 And the forefinger there is spread. 
 The five tall steeples strike them dumb, 
 The five dark caverns : all is dread ; 
 Silent and sad upon such foes 
 They pondered ; then old Saturn rose. 
 
 xvir. 
 
 " O slow to reason and foresee ! 
 Think you, son Jove, these things are strange .' 
 Men deal by you as you by me ; 
 Know this is all the work of Change. 
 
 of Love by alluding to what Strength had accomplished in the Labours 
 of the Nemean Lion and the removal of Cerberus from Hell. 
 
BOOK II.] LUDIBRIA LUNj«. 45 
 
 Fool ! who perceived not what must be 
 When once you'd let the Giants range, 
 And doomed those old protected crops 
 That peaceful Saturn tilled with Ops ! * 
 
 XVIII. 
 
 " Once with fair elbow-room on earth 
 I ruled a loyal race, though rude ; 
 Produce sufficient, and no dearth : 
 No city paupers cried for fopd. 
 And if my children at the birth 
 I swallowed, the intent was good ; 
 Nature's inevitable law 
 Before wise Malthus I foresaw. 
 
 XIX. 
 
 " But you, forsooth, had clearer lights ; 
 You said your Principles were higher, 
 And feigning zeal for abstract Rights, 
 Drove from his throne your poor old sire. 
 
 * Combining the Greek and Roman myths, the story of Saturn 
 may be told thus : — He was an old God-King who presided over a 
 golden feudal age of Aristocracy and Protection in the company of Ops, 
 his wife. He, however (as the followers of M. Comte advise in our own 
 day), practised infanticide, and his son Jove was only saved from this 
 fate by the substitution of a stone. Jove, making his father's mal- 
 practices a plea for revolt, turned him out of his kingdom, and inaugu- 
 rated the modem constitutional era. He held his throne with persistent 
 but precarious tenure, owing to the risings of the Giants, till his final 
 expulsion from Olympus. 
 
46 LUDIBRIA LUN^. [book n. 
 
 Soon (so the changer Change requites) 
 Prometheus rose, and stealing fire. 
 For all your wise Caucasian plan, 
 Outwitted you, instructing Man. 
 
 XX. 
 
 " Then on the earth mankind increased : 
 Yet, boasting none could cut their comb. 
 Race swallowed Race ; the conquered East 
 Was food for Greece, and Greece for Rome ; 
 In Rome arose a new High-priest, 
 And crowned a Goth in Caesar's home ; 
 The Goth's turn came ; his Slaves rebelled, 
 And, copying you, their Kings expelled. 
 
 XXI. 
 
 " The first were English Charles and James ; 
 Next from the scene poor Louis passed ; 
 To-day have gone two Bourbon names, 
 Bomba, and Isabel the last ; 
 Now kingless Man all nature claims, 
 Yet vainly hopes his anchor cast. 
 His Monarchs ousted, now the ban 
 He feels ; the Woman ousts the Man. 
 
 XXII. 
 
 " The Women, still for change athirst. 
 Fly from their crowded globe, and soon 
 The Maids, whom you pursued at first 
 On earth, will drive you from the Moon. 
 
BOOK II.] LUDIBRIA LUN^. 47 
 
 Thus in full circle are you cursed. 
 Now must you live, a lazy loon, 
 On parish rates, or beg, or dig. 
 Lo ! this it is to be a Whig ! " 
 
 XXIII. 
 
 " Nay," Jove replied, with moody brows, 
 " Fate, and not blindness, was my bane ; 
 
 For, leagued with me against your House, 
 
 The Giants but secured my reign. 
 
 And why did I the Estates espouse ? 
 
 To hang all Heaven from my gold chain ; * 
 
 Freedom was never my intent ; 
 ' Le ciel c'est moi ! ' was all I meant. 
 
 Iliad, viii. i8 : — 
 
 " El 5' aye 'iretpr]aao9i, 6ioi, 'Iva eiScTe Travreg, 
 aapfiv xpyoeitjv 15 ovpav69cv Kpc/iaaavrec, 
 •jrdvTtQ S* k^aTTTiaOe G^oi iraaai rt Qkaivai' 
 'AAX' ovK dv ipvaaiT i? oiipavoOtv irsSiovBt 
 Z-qv' vTraTov /lijiTTwp' , ovd" ei fiaka iroXXd Ka/toirc 
 'A\K' oTt 5i) Kal lyiD irpoippwv iBBKoi/ii ipvaaai, 
 Aiirg Kiv yaiy Ipvaai/i airy re GaXdaay' 
 aiipriv /liv Ktv iiriiTa irtpi piov OiiXvinroto 
 Ai)<rai/i7)v, tA Se Kavra jiiriiopa iravra ykvoiTO' 
 Toanov iyili irepi r'ei/ii Seoiv inpi t'&ii dvBpiiirijiv." 
 
 " League all your forces then, ye powers above, 
 Join all, and try the Omnipotence of Jove : 
 Let dovim our golden everlasting chain. 
 Whose strong embrace holds heaven, and earth, and main ; 
 Strive all, of mortal and immortal birth. 
 To drag by this the Thunderer down to earth. [" \'e 
 
48 LUDIBRIA LUN^. [book ii. 
 
 XXIV. 
 
 " Then Tax, Indemnity, and Trade, 
 Rank, Office, all things leaned on me ; 
 Pluto was Justice of the Shade 
 By purchase, Neptune of the Sea ; 
 The Giants my each nod obeyed ; 
 They never dreamed they were not free. 
 Then who, oh, who, my dream cut short .' 
 My child, the darling of my Court ! 
 
 XXV. 
 
 " Minerva, whose old harmless walk 
 Was with her spiders in the air, 
 Chose all my policy to balk. 
 And spoke your fallen Titans fair,* 
 Teaching each earth-born ass to talk, 
 And every fool to play Voltaire. 
 Father, my fate should be my plea ; 
 I cheated you, my daughter me." 
 
 " Ye strive in vain ! if I but stretch this hand, 
 I heave the Gods, the ocean, and the land ; 
 I fix the chain to great Olympus' height, 
 And the vast world hangs trembling in my sight ! 
 For such I reign unbounded and above. 
 And such are men and Gods compared to Jove."— Pope. 
 
 * Minerva, in some myths, is represented as playing the same part 
 to Jove as the Philosophers to the French Kings, and helping Prome- 
 theus to steal the fire from Heaven. 
 
BOOK II.] LUDIBRIA LUN^. 49 
 
 XXVI. 
 
 Up sprang the gold-haired Cyprian Queen : 
 " O Heavens ! and have the Gods turned gapers, 
 Listening in awe while these declaim 
 Like journalists in morning papers ? 
 Such penny politics may frame 
 A nine-days' wonder for the drapers ; 
 But have the Gods no subtler arts 
 To use, the Gods who read men's hearts .'' 
 
 XXVII. 
 
 " How vain to dwell on Man's new powers, 
 If Man's old impotence we leave, 
 Knowing the Thoughts of all the hours 
 Since here we came on Christmas Eve ! 
 Say, where's the passion Change devours ? 
 Do men still Hope, Hate, Envy, Grieve .•' 
 Science, supreme o'er mortals' gloves, 
 Dwarfs not, nor can dilate their Loves. 
 
 XXVIII. 
 
 " No ! changed in manners, language, dress, 
 They come the same from age to age. 
 Like pieces on a board at Chess, 
 To solve their problems on our stage. 
 Vast seem their arts and limitless 
 When in free conflict they engage ; 
 Yet kept by fate in certain grooves. 
 What if the Gods direct the moves ? 
 
so LUDIBRIA LUN^. [book ii. 
 
 XXIX. 
 
 " Love in his person took the field, 
 Daring the maids to open fight, 
 So Love himself was forced to yield, 
 As boys at Chess who play not right ; 
 Myself will play, but unrevealed. 
 Matching the Black against the White. 
 If men meet maids, whate'er's between, 
 My Knight may take Cornelia's Quben. 
 
 XXX. 
 
 " For where proud mortals boast so loud 
 The Gods should play a silent game. 
 Virtue's chief castle is the Crowd ; 
 For there, from self-deceit or shame, 
 Each seeks his inward doubts to shroud, 
 While all the general faith proclaim ; 
 Surprise the braggarts, each and each. 
 Presto ! their valour ends in speech. 
 
 XXXI. 
 
 " I go, this College with dark arts 
 To mine, not battering at the gate. 
 But while they suffer from Love's darts, 
 My troops in secret, early, late. 
 Shall close each passage round their hearts, 
 Till in good time I cry ' Check-mate ! ' 
 Then, scourged with their own impious rods, 
 Maids shall submit, and fear the Gods." 
 
BOOK 11.] LUDIBRIA LUN/E. 5 1 
 
 XXXII. 
 
 She said, resolved on counsels wise, 
 And her deep heart divined a spell ; 
 Then with her deathless doves she flies 
 To the Moon's mountain named of Hell, 
 Where all men's Thoughts and Vanities 
 In deep sublunar prison dwell, 
 Many a dark Dream, and many a wing 
 Fast bound, and Momus is their King. 
 
 XXXIII. 
 
 There is a dark and silent den. 
 Driven 'neath the mountain's basement far ; 
 Huge rocks of cheerless shade impen 
 The place with vast volcanic bar. 
 Hence fly they forth, here mount again, 
 Man's torments, brood of angry star ; 
 Each Thought returning brings release 
 To one in prison : there is no cease. 
 
 XXXIV. 
 
 Within, around the rifted roof, 
 Dim Fears and Follies bat-like flit ; 
 Here brood dark Cares, and there aloof 
 Megrims and Melancholies sit ; 
 Here sages Systems, far from Proof, 
 Spin finest webs ; distempered Wit 
 Watches o'er Hopes, that still mistime 
 The statesman's thought, or rave in rhyme. 
 
52 LUDIBRIA LUN^. [book ii. 
 
 XXXV. 
 
 Dim Shadows crowd the gloomy aisles. 
 
 Clinging to wall, and roof, and floor ; 
 
 Dreams over Dreams, close huddling files. 
 
 Waning into the darkness, more 
 
 Than birds that blacken the Orkney isles. 
 
 Or coast by northern Labrador. 
 
 So wait they, and when Fate has spun 
 
 The appointed thread, each sees the sun. 
 
 XXXVI. 
 
 Day after day, like Plato's souls,* 
 The circling incorporeal swarms 
 Move round between our earthly poles, 
 And each some mortal brain informs ; 
 When the grim gaoler backward rolls 
 The gate, then, like the .^olian storms. 
 Those freed by Fate whirl forth apace. 
 These fresh from travel fill their place. 
 
 XXXVII. 
 
 But when new Thoughts arrive on earth, 
 First, all the ambient airs they trouble, 
 Whose motion makes men's brains give birth. 
 Then Companies blow many a bubble ; 
 
 * For the account of the circular motion of Souls, see Plato, 
 TimcEUs, 41, D. E. 
 
BOOK II.] LUDIBRIA LUN^. 53 
 
 Each Journal finds the cynic's mirth 
 Fresh food ; Philosophers see double ; 
 All sporting Augurs spawn dark hints ; 
 And every Bard his spasms prints. 
 
 XXXVIII. 
 
 Before the cavern with his keys 
 Sits Momus, gaoler grim but wise, 
 His head up-pillared from his knees 
 On his two palms ; his inward eyes 
 Move not (and hence the world he sees) : * 
 Or if new captives bid him rise, 
 Still dreaming, he unbars the door, 
 Shuts it, then falls in thought once more. 
 
 * " '0 yoiiv MH/iog dicriKoag ol/iai linva ynaaaro tov '^faiarov, li Si 
 firj, aX\a vvv aKove. <pjjn yip o fivQoQ ^piam 'ABrivav xal IlomiSCjva Kal 
 "H^oiffrov sirEXviae mpi, icai rbv jikv HoatiiH ravpov nva dvairXdaat, 
 rqv' ABrivav Si oUiav iirivoijaai. o"H0at(rTos Se dvOpuiirov dpa avvcariiaaTo. 
 xai I jreijrep im t&v Miofiov r/Kov, 'ovirep SiKdartiv irpouXovTO, OtaadiitvoQ 
 cKiivoQ iicaffroti tA epyoi', tu>v fUv aXKiov dnva yridaaTO mpirrov dv 
 £iij Xkyuv M TOV dvBpdiirov Si tovto iftifixj/aTO, Kal tov dpxLTtKTOva 
 £ir67rX)jS£ TOV "BfauTTov, SwTi jiii Kal BiptSag ettoiijotv airy Kard to 
 aripvov, iis dvaviTaaOtmCiv yvwpiiia ysvkaBai aTraaiv d /BowXerai Kal 
 imvou, Kal ei \pevSeTai fi dXijScuti." 
 
 "At any rate you have heard, I suppose, of the fault that Momus 
 found with Vulcan ; but if you have not, hear now. The myth says 
 that Minerva, Neptune, and Vulcan disputed which was the best artist, 
 and that Neptune made a bull, and Minerva invented a house. Vulcan, 
 however, composed a man. And when they were come to Momus, 
 whom they had chosen judge, he examined the work of each, and 
 found certain blemishes in the two first of which we need not speak ; 
 but the fault which he found in man, and for which he blamed Vulcan 
 who made him, was this, that he had not made him doors also in his 
 breast, which might be opened for all to know his wishes and thoughts, 
 and whether he speaks false or true." — LuciAN : Hermotimus. 
 
54 LUDIBRIA LUN^. [book ii. 
 
 , XXXIX. 
 
 Thus his own bosom's watchful spy, 
 He finds why Love is born of leisure ; 
 Why youth and maid by change of eye 
 Thrill to the heart, and whence their pleasure ; 
 Men's souls he fathoms, men who die. 
 Yet shrink to bound by mortal measure 
 Desires of Glory, Power, or Pelf, 
 All this he finds within himself. 
 
 XL. 
 
 To him the Goddess came and said, 
 " Momus, when all the Immortals fear, 
 Sitt'st thou thus still with dreaming head .' 
 Surely to see thee is good cheer, 
 For of the living and the dead 
 Thou knowest, all hearts to thee are clear ; 
 But rise, thou silent sage, and soon. 
 Or we and thou must lose the Moon. 
 
 XLI. 
 
 " For never yet our earth-born foe. 
 Proud Science, reared her head so high, 
 Lifting the hearts of maids below 
 To invade the empire of the sky. 
 But these thou knewest long ago. 
 Hast seen them born, and breathe, and die ; 
 Join now thyself to Venus' arts, 
 And let thy Dreams assail their hearts. 
 
BOOK II.] LUDIBRIA LUNyE. 55 
 
 XLII. 
 
 " Were mortals all upon one side, 
 The Gods might wage a desperate strife ; 
 But rivalries their host divide ; 
 'Twixt man and maid disputes are rife ; 
 Then let us, with mankind allied, 
 Inspire some youth to steal a wife 
 From proud Cornelia's maids, who seek 
 To fly to Heaven, and prove them weak." 
 
 XLIII. 
 
 Then smiling rose that gaoler sage. 
 And backward rolled the ponderous gate, 
 Beckoning from out his darksome cage 
 A Dream, lean, withered, out of date. 
 Full many an old romantic page 
 He'd madden'd, many a poet's pate, 
 In every age vain wishes cast. 
 Shadowing the Future and the Past 
 
 XLIV. 
 
 Once had he lodged in Cato's heart, 
 And after in Don Quixote's brain ; 
 Then painted, by Lamartine's art, 
 The new Republic's golden reign. 
 Thrown on each trial, with fresh start 
 The brain-bom giant rose again. 
 Him to the Queen the gaoler led. 
 Then sat, and once more bowed his head. 
 
56 LUDIBRIA LUN^. [book ii. 
 
 XLV. 
 
 But Love's bright Queen the Dream addressed, — 
 " Dream ! from all mortal sight and sound 
 Secure ! dark secret of unrest ! 
 Hence to thy goal, wherever bound ! 
 But oh ! if ever in man's breast 
 Thou didst stir Fancy, or confound 
 Reason, or move to Love's delight. 
 Now be four times thyself to-night. 
 
 XLVI. 
 
 " And for thy weapons, take with thee 
 These arrows, forged of bright moonbeam. 
 Wherewith by the Sicilian Sea 
 I shot the heart of Polypheme.* 
 Thou, with thine arts in thy degree. 
 Canst cause a young man's brain to dream. 
 And these, with poisons from above. 
 Shall fire his wounded soul to love." 
 
 KiTrpilog Ik /lityoXae rb oi T^irari ira^e PiKc/ivov." 
 
 " With the death-wound in his breast, which the arrow of great 
 Venus fixed in his heart."— Theocritus, Id. xi. i6. 
 
BOOK II.] LUDIBRIA LUN^. 57 
 
 XLVII. 
 
 She said : the Dream in haste to obey. 
 Shot earthwards from the lunar steep : 
 Soon came he where a city lay, 
 Lamplit, and silent, and asleep : 
 He passes many a darkened way, 
 And many a door of slumber deep, 
 Bat-like to eaves and casement clings, 
 And fans the roofs with noiseless wings. 
 
 XLVIII. 
 
 Here dwelt one Amadis, whose star 
 (If by improvidence of date, 
 Or envious hope his life to mar) 
 Had borne him centuries too late. 
 No man so many thoughts afar 
 Had sent into the lunar state. 
 For there was none alive whose birth 
 Had fallen so far behind the earth. 
 
 XLIX. 
 
 His birth was due when orient beams 
 Of Hope and Fancy waked each breast ; 
 When half the world was in men's dreams. 
 And piled with jewels, east and west ; 
 When first, as over Lethe streams. 
 The Admirals through Atlantic pressed, 
 And brought you from the jaws of Death 
 Glory and gold, Elizabeth. 
 
S8 LUDIBRIA LUN^. [book ii. 
 
 L. 
 
 When, in despite of Virtue's frown, 
 Great sinners still out-topped the age ; 
 When from high heaven the Gods came down, 
 And buskined trod the sceneless stage ; 
 When wit and odours shared the Town, 
 (Yet wit prevailed o'er sewerage). 
 When Shakespeare broke (ye Poets, shame !) 
 The laws of Duty and of Game. 
 
 LI. 
 
 But his Soul slept, and now when Time, 
 Who even as men makes nations hoary, 
 Touching his country's noble prime. 
 Had left the Gold but stolen the Glory, 
 When there was nothing left for rhyme. 
 And Knighthood was an empty story, 
 He woke, and by his Star was made 
 A poet in a time of trade. 
 
 LII. 
 
 As once the Ephesian, waking late. 
 Went forth, unwitting of the year. 
 And saw the Cross above the Gate — 
 The Cross adored in secret fear 
 But yesterday ; — sqon many a mate 
 He missed, and many a comrade dear ; 
 Yet knew not his own hair was white, 
 Dreaming he had but slept a night : 
 
HOOK II.] LUDIBRIA LUN^. 59 
 
 LIII. 
 
 So was this Amadis forlorn : 
 His brain was full of Knights and lances, 
 And deeds achieved ere he was born ; 
 Books were his world ; his men were fancies ; 
 Still in his direams rang Roland's horn 
 So clear, that all his circumstances 
 Seemed but a Masque, the passing Age 
 The Players, and his own heart the Stage. 
 
 Liv. 
 
 Had he in old La Mancha lived, 
 Sancho had cleaned a second spear ; 
 But now the nations had survived 
 Don Quixote many and many a year, 
 And though men still ate, drank, and wived, 
 Yet, buying cheap and selling dear, 
 There'd scarce been found at his last breath 
 A barber to bewail his death. 
 
 LV. 
 
 Now, as became a valorous Knight, 
 This youth meet homage paid to Beauty, 
 But being in truth an ill-starred wight, 
 'Twas Celia claimed his love and duty — 
 Celia, whom ravished from his sight 
 A modern Giant kept as booty. 
 Strong as that Mage who did bewitch 
 Fair Amoret — the Maid was rich. 
 
6o LUDIBRIA LUN^. [book it, 
 
 LVI. 
 
 Oft had he tried the walls of gold 
 That held in thraldom his desire ; 
 But when he neared the enchanted hold, 
 Then hideous sulphur, smoke, and fire,* 
 Against him from the porch were rolled. 
 And forced him desperate to retire ; 
 At length the venture he gave o'er, 
 As did the bold Sir Scudamour. 
 
 LVii. 
 
 Now, entering by his drowsy head. 
 The Dream Ambassador stood fast : 
 
 " Why sigh you so, fair Sir," he said, 
 
 " For buried glories of the past. 
 Deeming that Chivalry is dead, 
 When Heaven adventure sows broadcast ? 
 In vain the blessed Gods are kind 
 To mortals' prayers, if men be blind. 
 
 * " No gate they found them to withhold, 
 
 Nor ward to wait at mome and evening late, 
 But in the porch that did them soon amate, 
 A flaming fire, ymixt with smouldry smoke, 
 And stinking sulphure, that with griesly hate 
 And dreadful horror did all entraunce choke, 
 And forced them their forward footing to revoke.'' 
 
 Spenser's Faery Queen, 3, II, 21. 
 
BOOK II.] LUDIBRIA LUN.E. * 6 1 
 
 LVIII. 
 
 " True knighthood springs from knightly brain, 
 And had mankind but souls to see, 
 Deeds, more than all that poets feign. 
 Or fancy fables, now might be ; 
 Love should be Law, and Honour reign. 
 Queens should wed Squires of low degree. 
 Wit make a way where wealth deters, 
 And Valour win the golden Spurs. 
 
 LIX. 
 
 " O days when Love made Woman wise, 
 When, veiling all her maiden mien. 
 She fought with men in man's disguise ! 
 Think, if in fight her face was seen. 
 How from their eyes, by sweet surprise, 
 Must Love like light have sprung between ! 
 Ah ! were those maids but modern men. 
 Knighthood ! thou shouldst return again. 
 
 LX. 
 
 " For see ! What things do Women dare ! 
 How maids eclipse their knightly noon ! 
 Man's company they quite forswear. 
 And seek a cloister in the Moon. 
 Well may bold Celia scorn the prayer 
 Of craven lovers, she, who soon, 
 Scot free from Gravity's restraints. 
 Will fly where your weak Fancy faints. 
 
62 ' - LUDIBRIA LUN^. [book ii. 
 
 LXI. 
 
 " Once led by Love to seek her mate, 
 A maid from Giants won renown, 
 Nor fainted 'neath her armour's weight ; 
 But you, you fear a woman's frown ! 
 The hold you dread 's a College gate ! 
 The ^rmour you decline, the gown ! 
 And now Occasion might secure 
 Your dreams, you, valiant Knight, are poor ! 
 
 LXII. 
 
 " Poor, when Adventure calls ! 'Tis well ! 
 Poor, when the Gods are on your side ! 
 Know, in the Moon the Immortals dwell. 
 And scorn by maids to be defied. 
 Now Venus sets you in her selle. 
 And bids you lower a damsel's pride. 
 Fair Celia's conqueror ! Venus' Knight ! 
 Go forth ! and Love defend the Right." 
 
 LXIII. 
 
 He said : and with two bright moonbeams 
 
 Transfixed his heart ; then swiftly flies ; 
 
 But up sprang Amadis ; he deems 
 
 His garret Elf-land ; in his eyes 
 
 The soul of gowned Achilles gleams ; 
 
 Memory and Hope of new emprise 
 
 His bosom fire ; unwonted arms 
 
 At once he seeks, and woman's charms. 
 
BOOK n.] LUDIBRIA LUN^. 63 
 
 LXIV. 
 
 Smooth was his cheek, and clear his eye ; 
 Myrtillo's self he might have been, 
 Who mixed with maids in Arcady ; 
 Or his the youn^ Diego's mien. 
 Who for sweet voice and fair reply 
 Was crowned those merry ladies' Queen, 
 Who feasted in the sculptor's home 
 Under the jasmin bowers in Rome.* 
 
 LXV. 
 
 Soon ribbed in iron like the fair. 
 Wide satin folds his footsteps trammel ; 
 Clad in the arms that women wear. 
 Well-pencilled eyebrows, smooth enamel, 
 And nodding helmet of brown hair. 
 He stands a sans reproche — Belle Brummel : 
 Then all on high adventure bent, 
 With Hope and Morning forth he went. 
 
 LXVI. 
 
 Now to the hold, whose walls immure 
 His Celia, Love our Knight has led ; 
 Broad was the Gate and barred secure ; 
 High o'er the arch a Sculpture dread 
 
 * " Era ivi per ispalliera alle donne un tessuto di gelsumini naturali 
 e bellissimi, il quale faceva tanto bel campo a quelle donne che 
 impossibile saria il dirlo con parole." — Vita di Benvenuto Cellini, 
 libro i. cap. 30. 
 
64 LUDIBRIA LUN^. [book ii. 
 
 Stood from a broad entablature, 
 Queen Tomyris holding Cyrus' head,* 
 Whereby to males was clearly bruited 
 All trespass would be prosecuted. 
 
 LXVII. 
 
 But neither Death nor fear of it 
 Deterred the youth, but grace divine 
 Inspired his soul with Woman's wit. 
 And thus he prayed with deep design : 
 " Open, sweet Ladies, and admit 
 A damsel, lover of Moonshine, 
 Who to your happy Hall is driven 
 By hate of man, and hope of Heaven." 
 
 LXVIII. 
 
 Within Cornelia heard the sound. 
 
 Like old Cyrene she was sitting 
 
 With circles of fair maidens crowned, — 
 
 Yet half this simile's unfitting : 
 
 'Tis true sweet gossip went the round, 
 
 But sometimes flagged for lack of knitting ; 
 
 For woman's idle Genius hngers 
 
 Most kindly where she's busy fingers."f- 
 
 * *' duKov de irKijaaaa difiaTOQ dv9p(o7rritov Td/ivpic, tSil^rjTO iv roiai 
 TsBvedixi Twv Tlipativ rbv Kipov vkmry, ihg JJ tupe ivaTrrjirn avroi Tt)v 
 Kf^oX^v Is rbv ddKbv." 
 
 " Having filled a skin with human blood, Tomyris searched among the 
 Persian dead for the body of Cyrus, and when she found it she fastened 
 up his head in the skin." — Herodotus : C/io, 214. 
 
 t At any rate Virgil seems to have thought so, judging from his 
 
«ooK II.] LUDIBRIA LUN^E. 65 
 
 LXIX. 
 
 Round them the grey quadrangle made 
 The green grass brighter in the sun, 
 Where, in the midst, a fountain played, 
 Clear-toned as Mercury's silver run — 
 Mercury, above whose nightly shade 
 Tom beats his hundred strokes and one.* 
 But ah ! what Nereids crowned that fount 
 He must be Virgil who could count. 
 
 LXX. 
 
 There, with their white necks veiled in hair,f 
 Sat Mabels, Margarets, Mauds, and Maries, 
 Ethel and Blanche — sea-bathing pair, 
 Who at Llandudno 'd left their Lares — 
 
 pretty picture of Cyrene and her nymphs, sitting under the river, working, 
 and telling stories : — 
 
 " At mater sonitum thalamo sub fluminii alti 
 Sensit. Earn circum Milesia vellera nymphae 
 Carpebant, hyali saturo fucata colore. 
 
 * * » * 
 
 Inter quas curam Clymene narrabat inanem 
 Vulcani," &c. ViRG. : Georg. iv. 333. 
 
 * Mercury, the fountain in Tom Quadrangle, Christchurch, Oxford. 
 Tom sounds one hundred and one strokes (the number of the Ch. Ch. 
 students) at nine o'clock every night — the signal for closing the College 
 gates. 
 
 t " Drymoque, Xanthoque, Ligeaque, Phyllodoceque, 
 Caesariem effusse nitidam per Candida coUa ; 
 Nisase Spioque, Thaliaque, Cymodoceque, 
 Cydippeq'ue, et fiava Lycorias : altera virgo. 
 Altera turn primos Lucinae experta labores ; 
 
 5 
 
66 LUDIBRIA LUN.'E. [book ii. 
 
 Lucia for love of pug-dogs fair 
 Renowned, and Cynthia of canaries, 
 And last the maiden archer's pride, 
 Rose, with her arrows laid aside. 
 
 LXXI. 
 
 In the clear wave, with sleeves up-rolled, 
 White arms and jewelled fingers gleam ; 
 The fountain felt so fresh and cold. 
 The falling water made them dream ; 
 Meantime the wise Cornelia told 
 A tale of science and of steam, 
 When the clear summons made them start : 
 Flushed every cheek, and leapt each heart. 
 
 LXXII. 
 
 The soft entreaty heard once more. 
 Rose, fairest portress of the gaol. 
 Unbarred in haste the College door, 
 x\nd brought the youth within the pale : 
 So strange a novice ne'er before. 
 To nunnery bound and maiden veil, 
 Was let within a cloistered wall 
 By half so sweet a seneschal. 
 
 Clioque et Beroe soror, Oceanitides ambae, 
 Ambse auro, pictis incinctas pellibus ambas ; 
 Atque Ephyre, atque Opis, atque Asia Deiopea, 
 Et tandem positis velox Arethusa sagittis." 
 
 ViRG. : Georo-. iv. 336. 
 
ROOK II.] LUDIBRIA LUN^E. 67 
 
 LXXIII. 
 
 But as the Trojan in the Shades 
 Was all beset with Ghosts forlorn ; * 
 So pressed the fair and learned maids 
 Round this new traveller to their bourne : 
 Tidings they asked of lace and braids, 
 How boots were heeled, what skirts were worn, 
 What hair was favourite, blonde or brown, 
 And what the latest match in town. 
 
 LXXIV. 
 
 But he shut in by fluttering choirs. 
 Fanned by the soft wind of their dresses, 
 With rapt and silent soul admires 
 Star-hosts of eyes and meteor tresses ; 
 Gathers their thoughts from their attires. 
 And from their looks their natures guesses ; 
 At length before Cornelia brought. 
 His errand the Queen-Blue besought. 
 
 LXXV. 
 Blushing his ardour to reveal. 
 The Star, he answered, of her fame 
 Led him, and love of woman's weal, 
 And Amaryllis was his name. 
 
 ' Circumstant animse dextra laevaque frequentes. 
 Nee vidisse semel satis est ; juvat usque morari, 
 Et conferre gradum, et veniendi discere causas." 
 
 ViRG. i ^n. vi. 486. 
 
Matriculation for the Moon. 
 
 LXXVI. 
 
 At once a beauteous eager crew 
 A gown of softest silk prepare, 
 And hood from Oxford stol'n, the Blue 
 That Bachelors of Medicine wear, 
 ('Twas judged by all the prettiest hue) ; 
 With trencher cap they crown his hair. 
 Then on her Book, he nothing loath, 
 Cornelia swears him in by oath. 
 
 LXXVII. 
 
 " O Amaryllis, will you here. 
 
 Leaving all follies, study till 
 
 Arcs, rhomboids, gnomons, are made cle 
 
 Said Amadis, " With my poor skill." 
 " Will you love, cherish, and hold dear 
 
 Our sex alone ? " Said he, " I will." 
 " And swear no tyrant's ring to wear 
 
 As wedded wife .'' " Said he, " I swear." 
 
BOOK III. 
 
ARGUMENT. 
 
 Cornelia, betaking herself on a summer day to her la^-n, reads treatises 
 to her College on the Art of Moonflying, but the Assembly seeming 
 absent and abstracted, Sibylla declares that Love has equipped one of 
 the number with powers of sorcery, and proposes to discover the witch 
 by the ordeal of the kiss. Amaryllis, as the latest comer and the most 
 innocent, is chosen from the rest, who are commanded by Sibylla to kiss 
 her in turn, which, being duly done, Celia is pronounced guilty, and is 
 fined. At nightfall Amaryllis betakes herself to the window of Celia, 
 and after an argument concerning Love and Knowledge, tells the story 
 of Endymion and the Moon, at the close of which her sex is accidentally 
 revealed to Celia by the loss of her chignon. Meantime, Pyrrha, one 
 of the College, being unable to rest, has wandered by herself upon the 
 lawn to meditate on the sweet remembrance of Amaryllis' kiss, and, 
 unperceived, comes suddenly upon Amaryllis and Celia. Fired by 
 jealousy and patriotism, she rouses the sleeping College, who surround 
 the lovers. Amadis declares his willingness to die, but avows that his 
 enterprise was prompted by the Gods, and warns the Women against- 
 their impious attempt upon the Moon. Cornelia, hurling defiance against 
 the Gods, challenges them to battle in the air on the following night. 
 
BOOK III, 
 
 I. 
 
 O COURTEOUS ladies, kind and fair, 
 Who travel patient with my tale. 
 And, borne with me from earth and air. 
 Passing beneath the Muses' veil, 
 Have seen what plots the Gods prepare 
 In the far realms of Moonshine pale. 
 Descend awhile to Earth, and hear 
 How now.the)'- prospered in our sphere. 
 
 II. 
 
 For thus, O ladies, you, who fence 
 Your hearts in unbelief, or you, 
 Who deem my gods a light pretence, 
 Veiled as they are from mortal view. 
 You shall have proof by earthly sense 
 That all my tale of Heaven is true. 
 And learn what influences unseen 
 Move in your bosoms joy and teen. 
 
72 LUDIBRIA LUN^. [book iir. 
 
 III. 
 
 Then, Muse, wherever thou art strayed, 
 Learned in the lover's ancient art, 
 Return, and tell how every maid, 
 Whom Love had wounded with his dart. 
 Was languishing ; how oft they bade 
 Defiance to the treacherous heart. 
 Yet, traitors still, whole hours would steal 
 From knowledge, since they learned to feel. 
 
 IV. 
 
 For sometimes through their faces, free, 
 Ran the red tide ; the sudden sigh 
 Was heard at lecture ; you might see 
 The restless start, the dreaming eye : 
 Deep in their bosoms curiously 
 Small golden hearts lay nestling shy. 
 And now in course of time the moon 
 Had well nigh filled her horns in June. 
 
 V. 
 
 Upon a day it came to pass. 
 Moved by the Summer and the Sun, 
 Cornelia, on the soft green grass 
 Sat with her maidens every one 
 (So the decree of Venus was) 
 Spite of herself her heart was won. 
 For now old memories made her grieve 
 For the warm earth she meant to leave. 
 
BOOK III.] LUDIBRIA LUN^. -Jl 
 
 VI. 
 But prudent still, though yielding thus, 
 She read from many an antique page 
 Of magic arts, unknown to us ; 
 Of alchemist, and soaring sage ; 
 Much pondering now on Icarus, 
 Now on the wings of Simon Mage, 
 And Alexander's * crafts that come 
 Through Cagliostro down to Home. 
 
 VII. 
 
 But sometimes, pausing in suspense. 
 She saw her maidens listless lying. 
 And in their eyes the wandering sense 
 Of Thought in worlds of Fancy dying, 
 Or now some soul re-travelling thence, 
 With conscious look to look replying, 
 As travellers, met abroad, re-meet 
 At home, with glances in the street. 
 
 VIII. 
 
 One, on her white arm firmly leaned, 
 Sank in her muslin-mantled breast 
 Her dreaming head ; another screened 
 The features that her soul confessed ; 
 And this, with fancies all convened. 
 Upon a neighbouring shoulder pressed 
 Her forehead, hoping with dark eyes 
 Sweet thoughts in ambush to surprise. 
 
 • See Lucian's account of this ancient Spiritualist. 
 
74 LUDIBRIA LUNyE. [book hi. 
 
 IX. 
 Then cried the Prophetess, " Ah me ! 
 Those hghtning barbs in poison dipt 
 Have then struck home ! now this is He 
 Whom lately on this lawn we whipt. 
 With charms of idle sorcery- 
 One of these maids hath he equipt, 
 Who with wild thoughts, though unexpressed, 
 Hath wickedly bewitched the rest. 
 
 " Men needed once by test of fire 
 To try the sorceress : limb from limb 
 They tore her ; nay, the Southern Shire 
 Would prove her still by ' sink or swim.' 
 Such judgments little I require ; 
 That maid, who's sold her soul to Him, 
 Shall be approved, like all that's His, 
 By the great ordeal of the Kiss. 
 
 XL 
 
 " Sweet Amaryllis ! well I know* 
 Your heart by Love is still untried, 
 Who felt not as did these his bow ; 
 Now seat you on this green bankside : 
 
 * Every one, who knows Guarini's Pastor Fido, will see that I have 
 adapted the pretty scene of Myrtillo and Amaryllis, in Act 2, S. I. In 
 justice to myself I give a sketch of the original, to show that I am 
 rather a debtor than a thief. Myrtillo relates how he was introduced by 
 his sister, in the dress of a woman, into the company of AmarylUs and 
 her friends, and how one of the latter proposed a kind of Olympic 
 game of kissing, how Amaryllis was elected judge, and how, after all 
 
BOOK III.] LUDIBRIA LUNiE. 75 
 
 Each maid shall on your lips bestow 
 A kiss, and I for all decide ; 
 For she who hides this guilt shall speak 
 By red confession of her cheek." 
 
 XII. 
 
 With secret joy the maids comply, 
 
 Yet feared ; so strangely sweet it seemed 
 
 To kiss, so deeply came the sigh : 
 
 Each cheek with brighter crimson gleamed : 
 
 And this they knew, but knew not why. 
 
 Nor if they waked, nor if they dreamed. 
 
 Thus they by Amaryllis passed, 
 
 And kissed her : Celia was the last. 
 
 XIII. 
 
 And all beheld with more delight 
 Her supple limbs in her white gown 
 Bow, like a lily from its height, 
 The blonde hair mingling with the brown ; 
 But none could see the long, long light 
 Of looks that met as she bent down, 
 Light that drew thought into eclipse, 
 And made life linger on the lips.* 
 
 had kissed her, she decided that the most lover-like kiss had been given 
 by Myrtillo. There is no prettier passage of artificial simplicity in any 
 literature. 
 
 * " Su queste labbra, Eigasto, 
 
 Tutta sen venne allor I'anima mia, 
 
 E la mia vita chiusa 
 
 In cosi breve spazio 
 
 Non er' altro che un bacio." 
 
76 LUDIBRIA LUN.E. [book hi. 
 
 XIV. 
 
 But as some white aneftione, 
 
 Whence honey thieves her sweetness hale, 
 
 Losing the burden of the bee, 
 
 Sways to and fro as in a gale ; 
 
 So Celia rose, so trembled she, 
 
 With changing cheek now red, now pale. 
 
 Convicted by some power unknown 
 
 Of crimes her conscience must disown. 
 
 XV. 
 
 With joy the Sibyl hailed the clue ; 
 'Tis vain for Celia to protest ; 
 Still, so she swore, an honest Blue, 
 Good Euclid's shrine was in hfcr breast ; 
 Her eye proclaimed her oath untrue ; 
 Her convict cheek the crime confessed ; 
 Each maiden hypocrite her head 
 Averts, and thus Cornelia said : 
 
 XVI. 
 
 " My sister, those who greatly stray 
 Must look for retribution great ; 
 Two pairs of eyebrows you will pay, 
 A patch and paint-brush to the State ; 
 The three first books of Euclid say 
 By heart, and keep within the gate : , 
 So recognize, ye maids, what awe. 
 Sanctions the majesty of Law ! " 
 
BOOK III.] LUDIBRIA LUN^. TJ 
 
 XVII. 
 
 The girls their reverent heads incline, 
 But whisperingly the thing repeat ; 
 Some think that, if the sorceress' fine 
 Were heavy, yet the sin was sweet ; 
 Some, too, their Celia's thoughts divine, 
 So strange, so very indiscreet ; 
 The rest fetch task-books, and obey 
 The Queen's partition of the day. 
 
 XVIII. 
 
 And now 'twas night — ah ! such a night. 
 As seems so still in man's repose, 
 That from the very jasmins white 
 A kind of silent language goes, 
 And Time by lilies in moonlight 
 Lies sleeping, or beside the rose, 
 Till waked with dawn, the sudden comer. 
 He lift his lids, and greet — Midsummer. 
 
 XIX. 
 A night when daylight seems to last, 
 Yet sounder sleeps the roof-lodged swallow ; 
 When all the flowers deep shadows cast, 
 And each holds moonshine in its hollow ; 
 A night when everything that's past 
 Is beautiful, and all to follow 
 Looks sweetly dim and softly bright ; 
 So still, so fragrant was the night. 
 
78 LUDIBRIA LVNM. [book hi. 
 
 XX. 
 
 Such night young Romeo's loves began 
 With Juliet, and Lorenzo gay- 
 Through the melodious changes ran 
 " On such a night " with Jessica ; 
 Then since on such the maiden-man, 
 Our Amaryllis, chose to stray 
 Within the garden, — who can blame 
 If he to Celia's window came ? 
 
 XXI. 
 
 Three stories high was built the hall. 
 And on the lowest was her chamber. 
 All round the grey-stone moonlit wall 
 He saw the stealthy roses clamber. 
 And jasmin o'er the casement fall ; 
 And soon a little lamp like amber 
 Revealed the maiden, as she came 
 A picture moving in its frame. 
 
 XXII. 
 
 Now thus surprised in secret mood 
 A woman true was Celia shown ; 
 For, if 'tis fear of solitude, 
 Or to self-knowledge they are prone, 
 All womankind, coquette or prude. 
 Whene'er they find themselves alone, 
 (Or think they are,) directly pass 
 To seek for friendship in their glass. 
 
BOOK III.] LUDIBRIA LUN^. 79 
 
 XXIII. 
 
 But sure of glasses never one, 
 
 Since Pope made rhymes and Steele wrote essays, 
 
 Had shown a face lil^e this fair nun. 
 
 Or held such length of shining tresses, 
 
 Wherein by turns her brushes run. 
 
 Like boats in western wildernesses, 
 
 That sometimes shoot the rapid's tide. 
 
 And sometimes in the rushes hide. 
 
 XXIV. 
 
 As where the Goddess' temple shone 
 
 At lamplight in the Cyprian water. 
 
 The priestess, when the world was gone. 
 
 Would turn to see the gifts they brought her 
 
 From Ophir or from Lebanon ; 
 
 So Ceha, being Eve's true daughter, 
 
 Now turned in secret to behold 
 
 Her lockets and her rings of gold. 
 
 XXV. 
 
 Caught with the colour, now she sets 
 The scarlet coral in her head ; 
 Now, in a dream, her hand forgets 
 What it desired ; her neck is spread 
 With chains and little amulets ; 
 On her white breast a ruby red 
 Lies, crimson, as a blood-stain glows 
 From leveret struck in Alpine snows. 
 
8o LUDIBRIA LUN/E. [book hi. 
 
 XXVI. 
 
 But as she stood her upper gown 
 Like silent snow-stream downward slipped ; 
 Then with hot cheek, aiid smile, and frown, 
 Her round white shoulder's linen crypt 
 She pressed, — so doves in their own down 
 Will nestle — and, half open lipped. 
 Kissed it, as though, like that poor elf. 
 She'd play Narcissus to herself. 
 
 xxvn. 
 
 " Ah me ! " she cries, "what ails my breast .'' 
 For since that little wanton boy 
 I found asleep, I have no rest, 
 Nor books, nor learning, I enjoy ; 
 O Celia ! falcon in dove's nest ! 
 Helen in my Cornelia's Troy ! 
 Yet if I could, would I forego 
 This sin .'' Alas, T hardly know — 
 
 XXVIII. 
 
 " Is it a sin .'' The stars above 
 Make me for Amaryllis sigh ; 
 Else why should breath, and touch, and glove, 
 Move you, my heart .' ah, tell me why ? 
 Can ever woman woman love ? 
 This Sappho did — then so might I ; 
 Or rather is't some face like hers. 
 That me to love by proxy stirs ? 
 
BOOK III.] LUDIBRIA LUN^. 8 1 
 
 XXIX. 
 
 " If Amadis " — therewith there came 
 A little pebble, aimed full featly 
 Against the glass, and she for shame 
 Blushed red, as one who indiscreetly 
 Has told her friends her lover's name ; 
 Then to the window ran she fleetly. 
 And with half-glad, half-guilty scream, 
 Beheld the author of her dream. 
 
 XXX. 
 
 Yet feigning still the Scholar's cue, 
 " Did not," she cries, " our Legislator 
 Swear us to Knowledge to be true ? 
 Then, why this perjury ? Idle traitor ! 
 Go ! ponder on the cause of dew ! 
 Incline the Sun to the Equator ! 
 Or do for some one of the Stars 
 The kindness Kepler did for Mars ! " 
 
 XXXI. 
 Then Amaryllis : " Ah, unkind ! 
 Not mine to Knowledge is the treason 
 But yours to Nature : 'tis divined 
 By some our Souls obey the season. 
 And as Heaven's influences bind 
 Our thoughts from morn till eve by Reason 
 So, when the Stars are seen above. 
 They set our spirits free by Love." 
 
 6 
 
82 LUDIBRIA LUNiE. [book hi. 
 
 XXXII. 
 
 Then with a shudder CeHa : " Hush ! 
 Name not a name of such ill omen. 
 Lest in the dark ,he make us blush ; 
 We are the monster's natural foemen ; 
 Power he may have o'er men ; but, tush ! 
 Not Love but Knowledge rules o'er women ; 
 Eden for her was lost by Eve ; 
 Eden by Knowledge we'll retrieve. 
 
 XXXIII. 
 
 " You know we hope by Knowledge soon 
 Disease and death from Earth to scare, 
 And each, a self-propelled balloon, — 
 What broomstick witches used to dare — 
 To mount for rambles in the Moon, 
 Although they say it has no air. 
 Nay, if it please us, take a pattern 
 For targets from the rings of Saturn." 
 
 XXXIV. 
 
 Said he : " And if you did, with ease 
 Love would pursue you to those parts ; 
 Deeper than Knowledge in the seas 
 He dives, much deeper in men's hearts ; 
 Knowledge may master Sciences, 
 But Love is Bachelor of Arts ; 
 Knowledge shows laws but cannot give. 
 Love is his own Executive. 
 
BOOK III.] LUDIBRIA LUN^. S3 
 
 XXXV. 
 
 " Full oft, like a small watchman, he. 
 With hood and lantern armed, comes creeping 
 'Neath mortal eaves, where fancy free 
 The maidens and young men lie sleeping ; 
 Then with his lips, as with a key. 
 He steals their hearts out of their keeping, 
 And they, like changelings of the elves. 
 Awake, and fear, and doubt themselves. 
 
 XXXVI. 
 
 " But Knowledge, throned in her cold star. 
 Sits pinched and cruel as an ogress. 
 Therefore is Love the stronger far ; 
 And though our trade is blessed by Progress, 
 Think yoij our hearts much wiser are 
 Than Knights of Lyonesse and Logres ? 
 Or say you that our Savans' rods 
 Should whip the old poets for their Gods ? " 
 
 XXXVII. 
 
 Said she : " In Love you seem no dunce. 
 
 While we are but two girls at play ; 
 
 But if some man came all at once 
 
 You'd have no syllable to say : 
 
 Or come, forget your frill and flounce — 
 
 I had a lover on my day, 
 
 (Ah may my penitence undo 
 
 My crime !) in part resembling you. 
 
84 LUDIBRIA" LUN/E. [BOOK ill. 
 
 XXXVIII. 
 
 " Now leave those maiden looks demure, 
 And play like him the man, or goose, 
 And woo me. Love, as Queen Budoor 
 Once wooed Queen Hayet El Nufoos ; 
 So will I give you proof how poor 
 A lord is Love — for I'll reduce 
 His syllogisms to powdered cocoa, 
 Either in Barbara or Baroko.* 
 
 XXXIX. 
 
 " I dare, I dare you, amorous maid ! 
 Now let not Love your heart attaint, 
 As a mere braggart in his trade " — 
 But then, compelled by sweet constraint 
 To beg as bounty what she bade. 
 And with the odorous time grown faint. 
 Her bosom and her cheek she pressed, 
 Softly, on Amaryllis' breast. 
 
 * Women, it seems, are at last to learn logic. But, O fair and 
 gentle ladies, have you any conception of the rigmarole you must acquire 
 before you can cure yourselves of your charming habit of arguing in 
 a circle ? Let the poet Aldrich recount to you the figures : — 
 ' ' Barbara, Celarent, Darii, Ferioque, prioris ; 
 Cesare, Camestres, Festino, Baroko, secundse ; 
 Tertia, Darapti, Disamis, Datisi, Felapton, 
 Bokardo, Fcrison habet : Quarta insuper addit 
 Bramantip, Camenes, Dimaris, Fesapo, Fresison, 
 Quinque Subalterni totidem Generalibus orti, 
 Nomen habent nullum, nee si bene colligis usum. " 
 
BOOK III.] LUDIBRIA LUN^. 85 
 
 XL. 
 
 And while the chesnut and the lime 
 
 Made shadows quaint on lawn and gravel, 
 
 Which seemed like quiet Inns for Time 
 
 After the heat of his day's travel, 
 
 Said she : " Since Love, and Stars, and Rhyme, 
 
 Can read what Reason can't unravel. 
 
 Come tell me to some pretty tune 
 
 The secret meaning of the Moon. 
 
 XLI. 
 
 " For though our telescopes by night 
 Her hills and valleys now discover, 
 Did not some old and foolish wight 
 Fancy the Moon was once true Lover .' " 
 Then he, who, worshipping Moonlight, 
 Through all Romanceland had been rover, 
 Thus in his northern tongue essayed 
 The myth that sweet Tassoni made. 
 
 XLII. 
 
 "In herbs and flowers Endymion slept,* 
 Tired with the labour of the day : 
 The Summer and the Twilight kept 
 Around him cool and amorous play ; 
 
 * I give here (pace Mr. Max Miiller and the Sun and the Dawn) one 
 of those myths which modem " Science" has branded as "a conglo- 
 meration of meaningless and absurd stories," a translation of the Song 
 of Scarpinello, in " I,a Secchia Rapita," praised by Alfierl as one of the 
 wonders of Italian poetry, I cannot pretend to approach the original, 
 
86 LUDIBRIA LUN^. [BOOK in. 
 
 The little Loves, like squires adept, 
 His arrows took, for as he lay 
 With fair closed eyelids on the grass, 
 They thought that he Lord Cupid was. 
 
 XLIII. 
 
 " A passing wind across his face, 
 In showers of gold his tresses blew ; 
 The Loves ran up, and in their place 
 Set them all back in order due ; 
 And flowers they picked, and wove apace 
 Crowns for his head of various hue. 
 And chains his arms and feet to deck. 
 And collars for his snowy neck. 
 
 XLIV. 
 
 " To match his amorous lips they seek 
 What red the peony can boast, 
 And rose and lily for his cheek ; 
 But peony, rose, lily lost. 
 The wind and wave kept silence meek ; 
 No murmur o'er the hillside crossed. 
 Each in his tongue, earth, air, and deep. 
 Seemed to say, " Hush ! 'tis Love asleep ! " 
 
 for the sweetness of their language, so suggestive of irony, gives the 
 burlesque-writers of Italy an advantage over those of every other 
 nation. But I have adhered throughout to the spirit of the poet, and 
 generally to his text, except where I saw that an alteration would be 
 better adapted to the character of an English style. 
 
BOOK III.] LUDIBRIA LUN^. 8/ 
 
 XLV. 
 
 " As in Heaven field, where the great Bull 
 Flames through the splendour of the night, 
 Those Sister Stars, so clear and full, 
 That daughters of old Atlas hight. 
 Round her, that is most beautiful 
 And largest, shine, less fair yet bright, 
 So with the Loves appeared in worth 
 Endymion in the flowers of Earth. 
 
 XLVI. 
 
 " When she who rules in Heaven's first ring. 
 Bright with the Sun's departed rays. 
 The world's dark stage uncurtaining. 
 The lonely silent lands surveys. 
 Dews from her mantle scattering 
 And rime upon the flowery ways, 
 By chance she spied this hill, then she 
 Came down from Heaven all curiously. 
 
 XLVII. 
 
 " The Loves beheld and feared, and thence 
 They fled ; but she, when on the hill 
 She saw him sleep, with maiden sense, 
 Gazing, on balanced foot stood still. 
 And kept from Love in sweet suspense 
 Of modesty and fear of ill, 
 She had half turned to flee, but then 
 His fair face called her back again. 
 
88 LUDIBRIA LUN.E. [book hi. 
 
 XLVIII. 
 
 " So through her eyes her heart took fire. 
 Which Love made master of her Soul ; 
 Little by little, with desire, 
 Towards the sleeping boy she stole ; 
 And of the flowrets, which the choir 
 Had woven in thousand fashions droll. 
 She made her brow and bosom rings : 
 But ah ! each flower had flapies and stings ! 
 
 XLIX. 
 
 ■' Flowers drew her hand, her hand the kiss 
 Drew to eyes, cheek, mouth, bosom white ; 
 So lively, and so long to his 
 Her lips were pressed, that with affright 
 He woke, and now, for fear of this 
 Illumined world so heavenly bright. 
 He would adown the rocks have leapt. 
 But him she caught and straitly kept. 
 
 L. 
 
 " ' O sweet and sleepy Soul,' she said, 
 ' What do you fear ? I am the Moon, 
 Who now to sleep with you am led 
 By Love, and Fate, and Fortune's boon. 
 Sit down and rest. Be comforted ; 
 And while the night is yet in noon. 
 Choose now this love that I reveal 
 To hide, or else Heaven's wrath to feel ! ' 
 
BOOK III.] LUDIBRIA LUN^E. 89 
 
 LI. 
 
 " ' Eye of the world ! Lady of Dew ! 
 A shepherd lad that keep poor kine 
 Am I,' he said ; 'but now would you 
 Take me to Heaven by grace divine, 
 Doubt not I shall be always true ; 
 And this white robe, to be a sign, 
 Which Etlius gave, for his love's sake, 
 To Calice, my mother, take.' 
 
 LII. 
 
 " With that his scarf, which daintily 
 Was fringed with pearls, and so was tied 
 That back and breast as one might be 
 From the right shoulder to left side. 
 He gave her as a gift. Then she 
 Quite lost in love her heavenly pride ; 
 And as a flower, pressed on its bank. 
 Droops faintly, in his arms she sank. 
 
 LIU. 
 
 " Not in such close embrace the vine 
 The elm her fruitless husband presses, 
 Nor ivy round the shady pine 
 So tightly wreathes her winding tresses. 
 As did these lovers' arms entwine 
 Each other in their long caresses. 
 The while their lips shot arrows sweet. 
 That Love on his own anvil beat. 
 
go LUDIBRIA LUN^. [book hi. 
 
 LIV. 
 
 " Thus while, in Cupid's courtesies 
 Looks, kisses, sighs, embraces using. 
 They play such follies as seem wise 
 Only by happy lovers' choosing, 
 The Goddess lifted her bright eyes, 
 The elements and stars accusing 
 That she, made blind by powers above, 
 So long had followed beasts not Love. 
 
 LV. 
 
 " ' Ah ! ' cried she, ' how I erred tttat day 
 I took the bow, and tracked the wood ! 
 What years since then have slipped away. 
 That now I never can make good ! 
 O life of which the winds made play ! 
 So wandering ! so misunderstood ! 
 How much more sweet had been this fruit 
 Than dangers dared in vain pursuit ! 
 
 LVI. 
 
 " ' I see my fault, and I would fain 
 Atone, but Heaven will not consent ; 
 And for the future but remain 
 Resolves I never shall repent. 
 Hear, therefore. Earth, and Air, and Main, 
 What I propose with fixed intent ; 
 And let this law for ever bind 
 Obedient me and womankind : 
 
BOOK in.] LUDIBRIA LUN.E. 9 1 
 
 LVII. 
 
 " ' For I decree for future doom 
 
 The sky I rule no maid shall cover, 
 (Save some few ugly spinsters, whom 
 Nor I, nor any star reign over,) 
 Who shall be rebel till the tomb, 
 And close her heart to every lover ; 
 But she, that holds love's passion light. 
 Deceives, or does herself despite.' " 
 
 LVIII. 
 
 Then how the Goddess to her sphere 
 
 Returned in grief, he would have told ; 
 
 But Celia, to whose English ear 
 
 The song though sweet seemed somewhat bold, 
 
 (O women ! priests and insincere ! 
 
 Who wait for " Finis " ere ye scold ; 
 
 'Tis thus that Mrs. Grundy's law 
 
 Ye sanction ! *) Celia moved and saw — 
 
 Lix. 
 
 Where were ye. Sylphs aerial, where .' 
 Why so securely did ye roam. 
 
 * Let the Prophets of Progress and Perfection say, if this epigram 
 is not as true' in our own enlightened era as in the bad times of Domitian 
 and Martial : — 
 
 ' ' Erubuit, posuitque meum Lucretia librum ; 
 Sed coram Bruto. Brute, recede ; leget" 
 
92 LUDIBRIA LUN^. [book hi. 
 
 Who made Belinda's lock your care, 
 And in false ringlets have your home ? 
 Did ye by moonlight chase the hair, 
 Or shell the tortoise for the comb. 
 That careless of your fair dominion 
 Ye watched not Amaryllis' chignon ? 
 
 LX. 
 
 Now tell me, all ye maiden squires. 
 Who tend fair dame on nightly field, 
 What secret clasp, what hidden wires. 
 What whalebone light, or pin concealed. 
 Rivets that helmet which attires 
 Their heads, — and now the youth revealed ; 
 Then will I match his Faery art. 
 Who once unhelmed maid Britomart* 
 
 LXI. 
 
 But O sweet Celia ! who can write 
 What moved your bosom, girlish Fear, , 
 Or Fancy, or a girl's delight 
 In Frolic, dread of tongues severe. 
 The tale, the silence, and the night, 
 And Love the blind, and Love the seer ? 
 This, this could any poet do, 
 Methinks it were a girl like you. 
 
 * See the beautiful description of Britomart unhelmed. Faery 
 Queen, 4, 6, 19, 20. 
 
BOOK III.] LUDIBRIA LUN^. 93 
 
 LXII. 
 
 And surely now had Love been lord, 
 And Venus won the doubtful game, 
 When Chance, dark deity, abhorred 
 By gods and men, who loves to unframe 
 All fair designs, beheld the board. 
 And spoiled the wily goddess' aim ; 
 For, seeing Cornelia's hand withdrawn. 
 Herself by proxy played a pawn. 
 
 LXIII. 
 
 There was a girl among the rest 
 Named Pyrrha, one of sisters three, 
 Whose names their natures well expressed. 
 Light Lesbia, laughing Lalage ; 
 Thereby, too, Pyrrha stood confessed, 
 Stormy and shifting as the sea, 
 Whose passions changed in strong desire. 
 Like Proteus, to wind, wave, or fire. 
 
 LXIV. 
 
 Love all his deadliest shafts at her 
 Had shot ; no arrow seemed to miss : 
 Save Celia's self, none livelier 
 Had felt the magic of the Kiss ; 
 And this, her passions all astir, 
 With joy and pain reviving, this 
 To reimagine, she'd withdrawn 
 By moonlight on the silent lawn. 
 
94 LUDIBRIA LVNM. [book hi. 
 
 LXV. 
 
 And as some Bacchanal in Thrace, 
 Her naked feet with swiftness shod, 
 Leaving her comrades in the race, 
 Would halt on snows before untrod. 
 And lifting to the stars her face 
 Deep in her bosom felt the god, 
 So Pyrrha's heart beneath her zone 
 Now bounds with power beyond its own. 
 
 LXVI. 
 
 One while upon her bosom white 
 Her bodkin's silver point she drives ; 
 The small red stain in the moonlight 
 The memory of Love's barb revives : 
 Then in rapt colloquy with night, 
 " Tell me," she cried, " ye wedded wives, 
 Ye that have either state essayed. 
 If maiden's love suffice for maid ! " 
 
 LXVII. 
 
 But when no answer came, instead, 
 " O Night, and flowers with dew-drops pearled, 
 
 If in your still white cups," she said, 
 " As some believe, soft wings are furled, 
 Souls of old lovers long time dead. 
 Who once took pleasure in this world. 
 To one, who breathes in pain above, 
 Now speak, and say. Does Pyrrha love ? " 
 
BOOK III.] LUDIBRIA LUN^. 95 
 
 LXVIII. 
 
 For Amaryllis' chamber light 
 She looked, but when no radiance shone, 
 " O spirit innocent and white," 
 She said, " to Dreamland you are gone ! 
 You know not Pyrrha's wretched plight, 
 Caused by your kiss, nor dream thereon. 
 Else you, like me, should vigil keep. 
 And Love should be your lord, not Sleep." 
 
 LXIX. 
 
 Just as she spoke, the moon's soft glow, 
 On the quadrangle brightly shining. 
 Showed her two girls, or seemed to show, 
 Leaned lover-like with arms entwining ; 
 One spoke caressingly and low, 
 And one was on her breast reclining. 
 Heavens ! sees she in a rival's fane 
 The goddess of her love and pain .' 
 
 LXX. 
 
 She strains her eyes, doubts, disbelieves. 
 While with mixed passions blindly swayed 
 Her breast tempestuously heaves ; 
 She steals from silent shade to shade. 
 Crossing bright spaces 'neath the leaves. 
 As to Venetian serenade 
 The husband steals like statue mute, 
 Tracking the lover by his lute. 
 
96 LUDIBRIA LUN^. [book iii. 
 
 LXXl. 
 
 She sees them separate, then again 
 Return ; she breathes their mingling breath ; 
 To fancy this had been sweet pain, 
 But so to feel, poor child ! was death : 
 " This bold girl gallant to disdain — ! " 
 Her bodkin from its velvet sheath 
 She took, but as she nearer stole 
 An instant glance revealed the whole. 
 
 LXXII. 
 
 How weak are mortals, even the wise ! 
 How are we blinded by extremes ! 
 How passion makes our being rise 
 Till every fault a virtue seems ! 
 Pyrrha beheld, and from her eyes 
 A storm of outraged Honour gleams. 
 While ecstasy of private Hate 
 Makes her a lover of the State. 
 
 LXXIII. 
 
 The Hall in swift and silent course 
 She reached (her feet her soul obeyed) ; 
 And through the sleeping corridors, 
 " Wake, wake ! " she cries, " we are betrayed ! 
 Up, Sisters ! to the danger's source ! 
 Celia the witch, and the false maid ! 
 'Tis hence these sorceries all began ; 
 For Amaryllis is a Man." 
 
BOOK III.] LUDIBRIA LUN^. 97 
 
 LXXIV. 
 
 As when upon Cithaeron's shrine, 
 The Maenad matrons, worshipping, 
 Heard suddenly the voice divine 
 Through all the silent spaces ring, 
 And, gazing upwards through the pine, 
 Beheld the petticoated King : * 
 So Pyrrha's anguished cry pierced deep 
 The souls of maidens in their sleep. 
 
 LXXV. 
 
 Ah ! were this pen a painter's brush ! 
 
 For, roused as by a peal of thunder. 
 
 Up sprang the girls with sleep's sweet flush 
 
 Still on their cheeks, and eyes of wonder ; 
 
 What snowy night-robes swelled the rush ! 
 
 And ah ! what white feet gleamed thereunder ! 
 
 So fluttered by some late affright. 
 
 The dovecote makes the darkness white. 
 
 LXXVI. 
 
 But now poor Pyrrha's tale is told. 
 Now are the luckless lovers found. 
 Then, as some robber of the fold. 
 Whom all the village hinds impound. 
 But none to brave his claws makes bold, 
 All wisely valiant stand around : 
 So round the youth the ring expands, 
 And he at bay, the lion, stands, 
 
 * See Euripides ; Bacchce, 1073. 
 
98 LUDIBRIA LUN^. [book hi. 
 
 LXXVII. 
 
 Ye gods, what Thoughts, and in what guise, 
 Went travelHng to your lunar seat ? 
 What Whims, Desires, and Jealousies, 
 What Jesuit Fancies, veiled, discreet ? 
 Poor Celia stands with downcast eyes. 
 And fathoms her own heart's deceit : 
 Just now her love, with place and time, 
 Was joy — made public, 'tis a crime. 
 
 LXXVIII. 
 
 Then, to the maidens, Amadis : 
 " Ladies, if death be your decree 
 For those that dare your lips to kiss. 
 Well. Such was life enough for me. 
 But this maid's heart did nought amiss ; 
 Then leave her, like her conscience, free. 
 Nay, hope you aught from death like mine, 
 'Tis vain ; you war with powers divine. 
 
 LXXIX. 
 
 " O fellow mortals, let me plead. 
 Ye know that, from our earliest hours. 
 We're but Heaven's sport, and in each deed 
 Nought but the empty act is ours ; 
 The wish, the thought are both decreed 
 By Parliament of Heavenly powers ; 
 Our hearts as in the wind they bow. 
 And shape desire we know not how. 
 
BOOK III.] LUDIBRIA LUN^. 99 
 
 LXXX. 
 
 " Thus to your college was I led : 
 A winged Dream from Heaven came down, 
 And o'er my soul bright fancies shed, 
 Arraying me in woman's gown ; 
 Love's mighty Empress, so he said. 
 Would here my bold adventure crown ; 
 Then how ye sought the Moon he showed : 
 ' That is,' said he, ' the Gods' abode.' 
 
 LXXXI. 
 
 '' Methinks the lords of mortal hearts 
 Thought scorn to see their vassals bold 
 Profane in thought their sacred parts, 
 And wake their starry silence old. 
 Theirs were these counsels, theirs these arts ; 
 Me but as conscript they enrolled. 
 If I as man may not be shriven, 
 Surely some grace is due to Heaven." • 
 
 LXXXII. 
 
 He ceased, for all the maids he saw 
 Tremble with terror and surprise : 
 With upward glance of timorous awe 
 They scan the moon and starry skies : 
 Not so Cornelia. Looking law 
 And judgment from majestic eyes, 
 (Through spectacles) papyrus-curled. 
 She fronts the old rulers of the world. 
 
lOO LUDIBRIA LUN^. [book hi. 
 
 LXXXIII. 
 
 " Misguided youth," she said, " and you, 
 O maid (if that shame-mantled cheek 
 Still shows the Celia whom I knew), 
 In vain deliverance hence you seek. 
 Heaven has no terrors for a Blue. 
 Your champions like yourselves are weak." 
 Then, with her clenched hands towering high. 
 She hurls defiance to the sky. 
 
 LXXXIV. 
 
 " Hence, then, these efforts of the Gods ! 
 These battles, marches, sallies, raids, 
 This twilight strife with open odds. 
 These thievish midnight ambuscades ! 
 For this, O Love, you braved our rods, 
 To shoot your arrows at the maids ! 
 For this in secret mined our laws ! 
 Your plots I saw, but not the cause. 
 
 LXXXV. 
 
 " For never yet did sage's glass 
 Find mark of Heaven in yon bright sign, 
 Where never motion seemed to pass, 
 Darkening the clear and silent shine ; 
 Of hill and dale, of gold and brass, 
 Our souls had dreamed, but nought divine ; 
 So far, worn exiles, did ye fly, 
 From Science and wise woman's eye. 
 
BOOK III.] LUDIBRIA LUN^. lOI 
 
 LXXXVI. 
 
 " I thought from your old mount expelled, 
 Driven like pale ghosts on wave and wind, 
 Full of all penury and eld, 
 Ye wandered weary through mankind ; 
 Or haply some fool's fancy held. 
 Some poet's heart, some childish mind ; 
 Lo ! now enthroned on lunar heights, 
 I find you foes to Woman's Rights. 
 
 LXXXVII. 
 
 " Twice bold ! twice baffled and outcast ! 
 Kings of an old forgotten reign ! 
 Gods of the passions of the Past ! 
 Behold this night your arts how vain ! 
 Art not thou vanquished, Love, at last .' 
 Or wilt thou tempt the maids again .' 
 Yet as ye will, come one, come all, 
 Each time ye come, ye come to fall. 
 
 LXXXVIII. 
 
 " Because the same bright sun shines down. 
 And the same stars their vigils keep ; 
 Because the snows the mountains crown, 
 And rivers run into the deep ; 
 Because, through country-side and town. 
 Hunger is lord, and Death and Sleep : 
 Think you we women are like those 
 Ye sought from old Olympus' snows ? 
 
I02 LUDIBRIA LUN^. [book hi. 
 
 LXXXIX. 
 " O fools and blind ! The red French flood 
 Has washed the old world's dotage young ; 
 And Pyrrha, rebaptized in blood,* 
 Is now on earth regenerate sprung. 
 The landmarks of old womanhood 
 Are lost, her images down-flung : 
 For all brute passions of the slave 
 Lie with dead tyrants in the grave. 
 
 XC. 
 " Old lords of Custom, ye have seen 
 A hundred generations die. 
 As leaves in lustihead of green 
 When winds of Autumn whirl them by ; 
 Behold, I say, ye too have been ; 
 Use and Prescription — these must die. 
 Olympus ye have lost, and soon 
 Shall show your title to the Moon. 
 
 XCI. 
 
 Hope nought from Privilege ; nor boast 
 The safety of your island Star, 
 Since space divides you from our coast : — 
 No world for mortals is too far.+ 
 
 * The first Pyrrha was wife of Deucahon and progenitrix of the new 
 race of men after the Flood. 
 
 t The following astonishing blasphemy may be found on p. 53, 
 4th Woman's-Rights Convention, in a speech of Mrs. H. B. Black- 
 
BOOK III.] LUDIBRIA LUN^. IO3 
 
 Nor vaunt your victories o'er the host 
 Of Phlegra, in the Giants' war, 
 Inglorious fields, fought long ago 
 In Greece, — for Woman is your foe. 
 
 XCII. 
 
 When science shall have fledged her wings 
 Woman shall drive you from your place, 
 And purge the old, and build new things, 
 And found fresh empires for our race ; 
 All that the farthest planet rings 
 Is ours, and all our system's space. 
 And on, if any central sun 
 The ecliptic of our centre run. 
 
 XCIII. 
 
 " But come, and would ye prove our might. 
 Since vain is ambush and surprise. 
 Descend to-morrow by moonlight ; 
 We to the middle airs will rise. 
 There will we battle for our Right : 
 The Moon shall be the victor's prize ; 
 But let that army which shall lose 
 Cease to be thenceforth Gods or Blues." 
 
 well, U. S. : "I expect some day to become greater than my present 
 conceptions of my Creator. I expect to climb the mountains con- 
 tinually, onward and heavenward for ever." 
 
 " If," says the same lady, "Immortality means anything, it means 
 unceasing Progress for the Individual and the Race." 
 
104 LUDIBRIA LUN^. [book hi. 
 
 XCIV. 
 
 She said : her Thought flew swift as light ; 
 The winged Words that spurned the ground 
 Sprang after ; up the airy height 
 Wave after wave propelled the sound ; 
 Soon, like spent swimmers through the night, 
 Faintly they neared the vast profound, 
 Paused on the verge — ^then, shivering, crossed, 
 And sank, in Space and Silence lost. 
 
BOOK IV. 
 
ARGUMENT. 
 
 Cornelia's Thought, arriving in the Moon, delivers her challenge to 
 the Gods, who sit in silence and fear, till Memory, casting her charm 
 over their hearts, arouses a vision of the past, and brings in masque 
 across the stage Reverence, Monarchy, Loyalty and Poetry, after which, 
 on the exhortation of Juno, they arm for battle, and their arms are 
 described. Venus seeks Vulcan in Etna and begs from him an 
 enchanted shield, and he, complying, makes for her the shield of 
 Vanity, which is described. The women on the other side being 
 equipped for battle, mount into the air by moonlight, leaving Amadis 
 and Celia bound upon earth to be sacrificed on their return after 
 victory. In the air they are met by the Gods, led by Apollo, who 
 sings like a minstrel part of the song of Demodocus, and challenges the 
 women to match him. He is answered by Pastorella, who sings of 
 Marriage in a pre-diluvian epic, which fills him with rage and despair, 
 and drives him back into the silence of the Moon. On the flight of 
 Apollo, the maids Jidvancing to battle, Pyrrha is killed by Artemis, 
 while, on the other side. Love is put to flight by Sibylla. The Gods 
 discharge their arrows at the women, who, protected in their flying 
 turrets, receive them vidth indifference, and assail the Gods with all the 
 newly-invented missiles of modem science, and at last put them to 
 flight. While the women are in full pursuit, and chanting a Paean of 
 Progress, Venus flies to the rear, and uncovers the shield of Vanity, 
 by which she draws up the women to the extreme verge of the air, and 
 then leaves them to fall into Infinite Space. The Poem is concluded by 
 an address of Venus to the women who still remain upon earth. 
 
BOOK IV. 
 
 . Meantime the Thought pursued her way, 
 ' Freed from the shadow of the Earth, 
 Shooting along the Sun's bright ray 
 To the Moon's Paradise of Mirth ; 
 Then moved in silence through her play, 
 Well-buskined, conscious of her worth, 
 And cast, regardless of the odds, 
 Cornelia's cartel to the Gods. 
 
 II. 
 
 Still sat the Gods, and laughed no more ; 
 Cold were their hearts, their eyes were wan ; 
 So heavy seemed the times and hoar : 
 They thought on glories old and gone. 
 Their shrines unroofed by many a shore, 
 Fair Paestum's piles and Parthenon, 
 And marble lives by Phidias formed, 
 And walls Apelles' colours warmed. 
 
I08 LUDIBRIA LVNM. [book iv. 
 
 III. 
 
 Then, in their midst, rose Memory sage, 
 And o'er their hearts a glamour cast. 
 Waking the melodies of age. 
 As Dawn wakes Memnon in the waste ; 
 And on the empty silent stage 
 They saw the spectres of the Past, 
 And in their eyes immortal tears 
 Shone, and remembrance of the years. 
 
 IV. 
 
 For as the towns, high citadelled. 
 
 And monarchs, warriors, statesmen, rose. 
 
 Once more they felt the airs of Eld, 
 
 And breathed again the Olympian snows ; 
 
 Men in their markets they beheld ; 
 
 Man's laughter and the sound of woes 
 
 They heard ; but when these Forms were past. 
 
 Four more celestial came the last. 
 
 First Reverence, with her garments rent ; 
 Pensive she stood, as one who dreamed. 
 Her face upon her bosom bent ; 
 A broken Image she'd redeemed 
 From earth, and on an altar leant, 
 Veiling her eyes, and so, it seemed. 
 Sought in her breast the sacred ray, 
 Once found in Heaven, — then passed away. 
 
BOOK IV.] LUDIBRIA LUN.'E. 109 
 
 VI. 
 
 And after her came Monarchy, 
 Whom dwarfs, low lovers of the ground. 
 By Envy's counsel given, lest he 
 Should top their level, had discrowned. 
 Besides, his hands, though seeming free. 
 Invisibly with gold were bound. 
 He in the midst, like palest ghost, 
 Paused, hovered, lingered, — and was lost. 
 
 VII. 
 
 Next Loyalty, and on her breast 
 The dying Advocate she bore ; 
 His lips the holy chalice pressed ; 
 His life seemed ebbing from its shore ; 
 Yet his weak hand his liege confessed ; 
 His eyes his master's wrongs deplore. 
 So, with his King's name on his breath. 
 Loyalty with Berryer yields to Death.* 
 
 VIII. 
 
 But Poetry the last drew near 
 With Homer's harp-strings half in rust ; 
 Yet to the earth she bent her ear. 
 And in her eyes shone hope, in trust 
 
 * See the letter written by M. Berryer on his death-bed to the 
 Comte de Chambord, and published in The Times, December 10, 1868 :— 
 "0 Monseigneur, O mon Roi, on me dit que je touche a ma demiere 
 heure. Je meurs avec la douleur de n'avoir pas vu le triomphe de vos 
 
1 10 LUDIBRIA LUN^. [book iv. 
 
 That songs of genius still were clear ; 
 Clear rose a song, — the song was Lust ; 
 Her strings she rent, and o'er her head 
 Tossing wild arms, for ever fled. 
 
 IX. 
 
 So passed the Masque in silent show ; 
 And afterwards the Gods sat dumb ; 
 *Nor any laughed, but leaned his brow 
 Dreaming upon his palm, for some 
 Pondered the Past, and some the Now, 
 And others the far Time to come. 
 Then Juno speaks : still thunder rolls. 
 And breaks the silence in their souls. 
 
 X. 
 
 " Three cities were to me most dear,* 
 Mycene of the ample way, 
 Argos, and Sparta, cities clear 
 In song and memory, — ^where are they .•• 
 
 droits' hereditaires, consacrant I'etablissement et le developpement des 
 liberies dont notre patrie a besoin. 
 
 " Je porte ces voeux au del pour votre Majeste, pour sa Majeste la 
 Reine, pour notre chhre France, pour qu'ils soient moins indignes d'etre 
 exauces par Dieu. Je quitte la vie arme de tous les secours de notre 
 sainte religion. Adieu, sire. Que Dieu vous protege et sauve la France. 
 
 "Votre devoue et fidele sujet, 
 
 " Berryer.'' 
 * " Tuv S' rifiiifSir' tTViira (SowTTig Trorvia "Uprj' 
 "Rroi ifioi rpiiQ fikv TroXi) ^tXrarat dcri TroXrjig, 
 'Apyog 7-e Sjrapnj rf Kiii liipvdyvLa Wviciivr}" 
 
 HoM. : //. iv. 52. 
 
BOOK IV.] LUDIBRIA LUN^. Ill 
 
 These twenty centuries the dumb steer 
 Turns to the plough their ashes grey : 
 Time that has made my cities clods 
 Now shakes his terrors at their gods. 
 
 XI. 
 
 " But if the Soul be lord of Time, 
 And we that move it grow not old, 
 This day shall prove ; — for in the prime 
 Did Juno rule o'er woman hold ; 
 All ye o'er passions set sublime 
 Were kings ; now arm ye and be bold ; 
 And show these maids that we, though driven 
 From Earth, are still high Gods in Heaven." 
 
 XII. 
 
 Then she her brow with dreadful look 
 Crowned with the Graces and the Hours,* 
 Her golden stafT and cuckoo took. 
 And bright pomegranate, fruit and flowers, 
 And queenlike o'er her shoulder shook 
 Her veil in gleaming silvery showers. 
 Bright emblem of connubial law 
 To Gods, to mortal women awe. 
 
 * These and what follow were the emblems of Hera. See Smith's 
 Dictionary of Antiquities, under her name. 
 
112 LUDIBRIA LUN^.. [book iv. 
 
 XIII. 
 
 Then silent and august around 
 In majesty the Gods arose ; 
 Jove's brow once more the Seasons crowned 
 With circling rains, flowers, fruits, and snows. 
 There stood the shaker of the ground, 
 Neptune ; and she who makes men foes, 
 Bellona, scourge of bright corn-land ; 
 And mail-clad Mars, with Scythian brand. 
 
 XIV. 
 
 But Pallas, daughter of high Jove,* 
 
 Dropt on the threshold of her sire 
 
 The raiment her own hands had wove, 
 
 Her broidered beautiful attire. 
 
 And clasping on her limbs above 
 
 Jove's tunic, armed for battle dire ; 
 
 Her aegis from her shoulder hung 
 
 Deep fringed, and dreadful splendours flung. 
 
 XV. 
 
 For it is compassed all with Dread ; 
 Strife, Strength, and the Ice-fear of Pursuit 
 Are on it, and the Gorgon's head, 
 Jove's portent, terrible and brute ; 
 
 * " Airdp 'A9ijvair] Kovprj Aibg atyioxoio 
 
 niTrKov fiiv Karextvev eavbv Trarpbg iir ovSei 
 noiKiXov, ov p' auri) noir/aaTo Kal xa/jiE \kp<!i.v. 
 'H ih ■)(nS>v Ivivaa Ai&£ vKpiXtiytperao 
 TtiXfirtv Ig TrSKefiov BuiprjvaiTO SaKpvoiVTO.. 
 'Afipl S' op' ujiowiv PakcT alyida Bvaaavottraav, 
 
BOOK IV.] LUDIBRIA LUN^. II3 
 
 Her helmet, from whose cone outspread 
 Her crests four ways diverging shoot, 
 Is gold : beneath the enormous plume 
 A hundred cities might find room. 
 
 XVI. 
 
 With silver shafts, whose deathly hiss 
 The Python heard, and sweetest lyre, 
 Apollo came ; and Artemis, 
 Whose feet no sylvan stag can tire ; 
 Arrows she bore of bitter bliss. 
 Whence love-lorn maids their death desire ; 
 Lit by her torch-light, silvery, wan, 
 On her veiled brow the crescent shone. 
 
 XVII. 
 
 And Mercury, well skilled to swim 
 
 Over the void and airless deep : 
 
 Him his winged cap and sandals trim — 
 
 Beautiful, golden — buoyant keep. 
 
 A staff he carries, to make dim 
 
 The eyes of men, and break their sleep ; 
 
 And herewith hopes he soon to guide 
 
 The souls of Maids o'er Lethe's tide. 
 
 Acti/qK, i)v TTtpi iiiv irdvn] 0o;8oc ianj>a.vitiTat, 
 'Ev S" 'Epee, if i" AXki), iv Sk icpvoeaaa 'Iiaicii, 
 'Ev S( re ropy«») kc^oXt] SeivoTo 7rc\il>pov, 
 Aeivii re, ajitpSvl] re, Aibg rspaj atywxoio' 
 Kpari S' iir' aiij>i<l>a\ov Kvvirjv Qiro rtrpa^oXijpov 
 Xfvattfiv, kxarhv iri^^iiiyv irpvXieaa apapvlav." 
 
 HoM. -. II. V. 733. 
 
1 14 LUDIBRIA LUN^. [book iv. 
 
 XVIII. 
 
 But ere the night of battle came, 
 Venus, advising with her heart, 
 (For she of all the Gods, through shame. 
 Dreaded the most Cornelia's art). 
 For fear lest Science and the Dame 
 Prevail o'er Heavenly shield and dart. 
 Sought Vulcan — who, for all her Gretna 
 Green trips, continued kind — in Etna. 
 
 XIX. 
 
 Vulcan had mounted with his choir. 
 And through the Moon's Volcanoes strayed. 
 And gauged them ; but not finding fire. 
 He doubted long 'twixt Love and Trade ; 
 Then, when the flame of his desire 
 Proved weaker, business he obeyed ; 
 And him his gold-haired wife now found 
 In his old Smithy underground. 
 
 XX. 
 
 But here, where once the Cyclops swinked 
 Had laboured, all was dark, the bellows 
 Unblown, the furnace half extinct. 
 Hammer and tongs no more were fellows ; 
 Low embers by the caldron winked. 
 And showed the God, who, once so jealous, 
 The husband vigilant to boring. 
 Slept cross-legged, most distinctly snoring. 
 
BOOK IV.] LUDIBRIA LUN^. IIS 
 
 XXI. 
 
 The Goddess at her partner's side 
 Stood gazing on his grimy features, 
 Then, tapping his broad shoulder, cried, 
 " Wake, best and sleepiest of all creatures ! 
 Why in such sloth do you abide ? 
 For surely, since the shower of meteors. 
 You've stuff to busy as your wont is 
 Pyracmon, Steropes, and Brontes. 
 
 XXII. 
 
 " Since your dear stepson's arms were made 
 (Though every day I get fresh scars), 
 Not once, my pet,* I've tasked your trade 
 To equip me for my woman's wars. 
 Now peril dire demands your aid. 
 For impious Woman climbs the Stars ; 
 Our Moon's at stake, and Heaven must yield. 
 Save you'll vouchsafe me magic shield. 
 
 XXIII. 
 
 " For in some wondrous armour dight 
 Her heart invulnerable seems : 
 Love hath she worsted in fair fight. 
 And balked wise Momus' secret dreams ; 
 
 * See the pretty womanly coaxing by which Venus in ^neid. 8, 370, 
 gets Vulcan to make the shield of .^neas. The " carissime conjux" 
 in the face of the song of Demodocus in the Odyssey is very charming. 
 
Il6 LUDIBRIA LUN^. [book iv. 
 
 Now Science would our deeds requite, 
 And we, reduced to worst extremes, 
 Our armies from the Earth driv'n back. 
 Expect in Heaven the last attack. 
 
 XXIV. 
 " But thou, Artificer, whose care 
 Once forged Heaven's bolts, in massy mould, 
 Some wondrous metal now prepare, 
 Stronger than copper, brass, or gold ; 
 Hence beat a target that shall bear 
 Each fierce assault of woman bold. 
 And Science, emptying all her train 
 Of red artillery, smite in vain." 
 
 XXV. 
 
 The God replied : " My dearest Life, 
 Not often do you make the stages 
 To these dull Isles, albeit my wife ; 
 Else had you known that now for ages 
 I and my workmen are at strife. 
 Who, thinking scorn of my just wages, 
 Have started in Vesuvius' gorge 
 A vast co-operative forge. 
 
 XXVI 
 
 "And I, who thought the whole concern 
 Was bound to perish soon or later. 
 For want of Capital, now learn 
 They've lately started a new crater. 
 
BOOK IV.] LUDIBRIA LUN^. 117 
 
 But to this question to return, — 
 To forge a shield's a weighty matter ! 
 But still, to save the Moon and you, 
 I'll try what Vulcan yet can do." 
 
 XXVII. 
 
 He said, and raised the bellows vast ; 
 
 Up sprang the flames, and roared, and spread ; 
 
 Catania trembled in the blast ; 
 
 Messina's Straits were all blood-red ; 
 
 Northwards the fierce refulgence passed 
 
 To Naples ; shone Palermo's Head ; 
 
 And east the Ionian sea-beat caves 
 
 Gleamed ; and round Malta gleamed the waves. 
 
 XXVIII. 
 
 The hammer fell, the sparkles flew, 
 The caldron hissed, and in the heat 
 The God's stiff" limbs all supple grew, 
 And merrily on the forge he beat. 
 He hit so timely and so true. 
 That soon his labour was complete ; 
 And he to her pleased eyes revealed 
 The bright, full-orbed, enchanted Shield. 
 
 XXIX. 
 
 The oval orb, that every limb 
 Concealed, of purest crystal made. 
 Was featly bound in silver rim ; 
 And on the rim the Smith essayed 
 
Il8 LUDIBRIA LUN^E. [book iv. 
 
 (For History was well known to him, 
 Beyond the custom of his trade) 
 In sculptured signs to carve and chase 
 The Fortunes of the Female Race. 
 
 XXX. 
 
 High over all sat Womanhood, 
 
 Who from a love-tale on the lute 
 
 Had paused awhile ; and round her stood 
 
 The Passions, mingled in dispute ; 
 
 Each over other, as he could, 
 
 Desired her favour for his suit ; 
 
 She in the midst misdoubting sat. 
 
 With troubled looks this way and that. 
 
 XXXI. 
 
 For Reason moved her on the right, 
 
 And him, methinks, she fain had heard ; 
 
 But Love and Hope in her despite 
 
 Upon the left her bosom stirred ; 
 
 And Vanity, as colours bright 
 
 Betray the oft-bewildered bird, 
 
 Brought her fair gifts, which through her eyes 
 
 Turned her light hearing from the wise. 
 
 XXXII. 
 
 Beneath, he made with wondrous art 
 Pandora through the crevice peer ; 
 And to her face did so impart 
 In medley fancy, hope, and fear, 
 
BOOK IV.] LUDIBRIA LUNyli. ! I9 
 
 You felt the fluttering of her heart 
 Beneath the silver, and could hear 
 The foolish breath, that came unbid, 
 And went ; nor had she raised the lid. 
 
 XXXIII. 
 
 Next Bluebeard's wife, condemned to die, 
 Calls to her tyrant from her knees. 
 And, whilst the desperate minutes fly, 
 Entreats, yet seems not to -appease. 
 One hand his sabre whirls on high. 
 The other shows the bloody keys. 
 Above, with eyes that strain to scan 
 The cruel distance — Sister Anne. 
 
 XXXIV. 
 
 And histories there were shown beside 
 Of Atalanta's doleful case, 
 By three fair apples drawn aside 
 To lose her freedom with the race ; 
 And of Tarpeia old, who died 
 Through Vanity, a traitress base ; 
 And Scylla, for one fierce, brief night, 
 Her father's slayer, her city's blight 
 
 XXXV. 
 
 Now on the side opposing this, 
 
 Four Queens were made, to show what Power 
 
 To woman does : Semiramis 
 
 Her husband slew, to build a tower ; 
 
I20 LUDIBRIA LUN^, [book iv. 
 
 And there, with lips all warm to kiss, 
 The Egyptian Queen dissolved her dower, 
 And, floating 'neath her silken dome, 
 Fanned half the manhood out of Rome. 
 
 XXXVI. 
 
 Next, scourge of Spain, Elizabeth, 
 
 And Queen of twice a thousand gowns,* 
 
 At seventy leads the dance of death, -f 
 
 Wearing false hair 'neath England's crowns ; J 
 
 Her Heralds call with windy breath 
 
 Each loyal Apelles of her towns 
 
 To adore Campaspe, and to save 
 
 Black teeth and wrinkles from the grave. § 
 
 XXXVII. 
 
 The last great Catherine, for the dead 
 Still wearing bloody widow's weeds ; 
 Her starving peasants bring her bread 
 Whence she her boorish lovers feeds : 
 
 * The number found in Elizabeth's wardrobe after her death. 
 
 t She danced with the Duke of Nevers at the age xif sixty-nine. 
 " She courted hym in the best manner ; he, on the other syde, used 
 many compliments, as kissing her hand, yea, and her foote, when she 
 showed him her legg." 
 
 t " She wore false hair of a red colour, surmounted by a crown of 
 gold." — Lingard, vol. vi. p. 654. 
 
 § Elizabeth, by proclamation, announced to her people that none ' 
 of the portraits which had hitherto been taken of her person did justice 
 to the original, and that, at the request of her Council, she had resolved 
 to procure an exact likeness from the pencil of some able artist. — 
 Lingard, vol. vi. p. 657. 
 
BOOK IV.] LUDIBRIA LUN.E. 1 2 1 
 
 These round her sit ; the board is spread ; 
 Sweet music sounds ; she little heeds, 
 Pleased with the pictured wall that shows 
 Sacked Ismail and her slaughtered foes.* 
 
 XXXVIII. 
 
 Now neither of those shields that won 
 For our Prince Arthur fame in fight,-!* 
 Or Spanish Roger, matched this one 
 (The Shield of Vanity it hight) : ' 
 Theirs made indeed the foemen run. 
 But this if any mortal wight 
 Beheld, unclouded by its case. 
 He gazed till Domesday in its face. 
 
 XXXIX. 
 
 But him no Gorgon horror froze ; 
 In that broad mirror pride and pique 
 Are soothed ; here every vulture nose 
 Looks Roman ; every snub is Greek ; 
 No wart nor pimple ever shows. 
 But soft carnation dyes each cheek ; 
 To Nireus turns Thersites base. 
 And hag Canidia seems a Grace. 
 
 * It is said that Catherine was strangely insensible to music, and 
 used, when at dinner, to feast her eyes on the two pictures by Cazenova 
 of the sack of Otchakoff and Ismail, in which he " represented with 
 hideous accuracy the blood flowing in streams, the limbs torn from the 
 body and still palpitating, the demoniac fury of the slaughterers, and 
 the convulsive agonies of the slaughtered. " — Tookis Life of Catherine II. 
 
 t See Faery Queen, 5, 8, 37, 38. - 
 
122 LUDIBRIA LUN^. [book iv. 
 
 XL. 
 
 Meantime, while thus the Lemnian sire 
 Was travailing with fire and wind, 
 The warlike Maids their heads attire. 
 Their breasts with plates of velvet bind, 
 String their light bows for battle dire. 
 Their quivers fill, their arrows grind, 
 Which oft in peaceful strife have sped 
 To heart of bull's-eye or of red. 
 
 XLI. 
 
 And deadly engines they prepare 
 For airy battle, passing count. 
 War's dire inventions, new and rare ; 
 Mortars and howitzers they mount, 
 Swift-shooting needle-guns they bear. 
 And rockets pile a fiery fount. 
 And shells by cunning science made 
 To burst in air, and swift grenade. 
 
 XLII. 
 
 All for high travel are equipped 
 By aid of Science ; some assume 
 Wings like a swallow, arrow-tipt. 
 Glossy and smooth, with purple bloom ; 
 One soars through air securely shipt, 
 Arion-like, on magic broom. 
 Of all her sticks — so said the vendor — 
 Once loveliest to the Witch of Endor. 
 
BOOK IV.] LUDIBRIA LUN/E. 1 23 
 
 XLIII. 
 
 Some in swift barks, concealed from sight 
 'Neath cupolas, are drawn along. 
 Vessels than gossamer more light, 
 But yet as heaviest iron strong, 
 Tugged up by many a soaring kite. 
 Like old Chineses in Hong Kong ; 
 Each tower has air-holes like a flute. 
 Through which their balls they safely shoot. 
 
 XLIV. 
 
 Some in balloon-like airy barge. 
 Governed by many a dexterous oar. 
 Prepare swift needles to discharge ; 
 Some upon huge Steam-Dragons soar. 
 Bearing for shield a seven-fold targe, 
 With iron plated to the core ; 
 And at her waist, the host to light, 
 Each bears a silver lantern bright. 
 
 XLV. 
 
 But while with armaments so vast 
 The College precincts all resound. 
 Poor Amadis lies prisoned fast. 
 With Celia in vile durance bound ; 
 These two, in fiery holocaust, 
 Cornelia, soon with conquest crowned. 
 Intends to sacrifice, a high 
 Thanksgiving for her victory. 
 
124 LUDIBRIA LUNiE. [book iv. 
 
 XLVI. 
 
 Then gentle dames (if there be those 
 Still left unto our brawling time, 
 Who love kind Nature and Repose, 
 Nor judge man's Fancy to be crime) 
 Who with the reddening of the rose. 
 Day-dreamers in romance 6r rhyme. 
 Dare still indulge your summer sense 
 In Castles of sweet Indolence ; 
 
 XLVII. 
 
 Who, yet to public warfare strange, 
 Where men must push, and lie, and thieve, 
 Live, and, unconscious of all change. 
 Your own sweet Instinct still believe. 
 Who, with more large and human range, 
 As Nature bids you, love and grieve. 
 And signify your sovereign will 
 To save the world its women still ; 
 
 XLVIII. 
 
 If on the inhospitable earth 
 Ophelia's meekness still find place ; 
 If Beatrice's maiden mirth, - 
 And Portia's wit, one woman grace ; 
 If any maid of modern birth 
 Be- piteous of thy cruel case, 
 Viola, or thine, best loved by men. 
 Thou queen of lovers, Imogen ; 
 
BOOK iv.l LUDIBRIA LUN^. 12$ 
 
 XLIX. 
 
 If such there be, now in attires 
 
 Of grief, and weeds that mourners use, 
 
 With long processions and sad choirs. 
 
 Let them approach the imperial Muse ; 
 
 And at her altar breathe desires. 
 
 And vows, and prayers, that are her dues. 
 
 And for the happier estate. 
 
 Of these two lovers supplicate. 
 
 Upon your knees, ye ladies, fall, 
 
 Be ye fresh maids, or wedded wives ! 
 
 And low, at Love's confessional. 
 
 Where he your past transgressions shrives, 
 
 Vow, as the price of ransom, all 
 
 The meek obedience of your lives ; 
 
 So Love, that hath the Muse's ear, 
 
 Haply your penitence shall hear. 
 
 LI. 
 
 Attend ! As when by besom stirred, 
 The rising dust in sunshine floats. 
 And all the slanting rays are blurred 
 With glittering dances ; soon the motes 
 Vanish : so at the given word. 
 Wings, cars, and cupolas, and boats. 
 Together rose, and in moonlight 
 Passed brightly lessening out of sight. 
 
126 LUDIBRIA LUN.E. [book iv. 
 
 LII. 
 
 Now in mid air the Maids behold, 
 Down shooting on the slant moonbeams, 
 The embattled Deities of old. 
 Lords of men's Passions and their Dreams ; 
 Immortal arms their limbs enfold. 
 Ambrosial radiance round them streams : 
 So once they passed in youth and joy 
 To battle on the plains of Troy. 
 
 Llll. 
 
 Of idiom the foremost and most fair, 
 
 Like minstrel knight, Apollo sprang ; 
 
 All round him danced his dazzling hair 
 
 In moonshine, and his harp-strings rang : 
 
 Then trembled the terrestrial air, 
 
 For Love, and War, and Death, he sang ; 
 
 Hushed stood the night ; the rhythmic spheres 
 
 Rang with the songs of elder years. 
 
 LIV. 
 
 Memory unbarred the Muse's gate, 
 
 And loud he smote his harp-strings seven. 
 
 Singing the glories of the great,* 
 
 The song whose glory compassed Heaven, 
 
 * This is the subject of the old, the heroic, the barbarous : 
 
 " Movg' dp' aoiSov avijicev ieiSsfievai K\ia avSp&v, 
 oifirjQy TrJQ TOT dpa KKsog ovpavbv evpiv 'Uavtv, 
 viiKOQ "OSvaariOQ Kai IlTjXet^cw 'AxtKrjoQy 
 Us TOTl StipifravTO 9(wv Iv SaiH 9d\ny 
 
BOOK IV.] LUDIBRIA LUN^. 1 27 
 
 How once Odysseus moved by hate, 
 Had with the Son of Peleus striven, 
 And at the Immortals' plenteous board 
 Hot words provoked the warriors' sword : 
 
 LV. 
 
 And how the ruler of the host 
 Joyed that the bravest of the brave 
 Thus strove, remembering what accost 
 The God in divine Delphi gave, 
 When he the stony threshold crossed, 
 Apollo's oracle to crave ; 
 And hence for Greek and Trojan rose, 
 So willed high Heaven, the fount of woes. 
 
 LVI. 
 
 Then pausing he the Maids bespoke — 
 " women, whom high sense of worth. 
 And Titan Progress, thus provoke 
 To dare in fight celestial birth, 
 Now, if your Deity has woke 
 New moods of minstrelsy on earth. 
 Match me, I pray, with modern tune 
 This music of the ruder Moon." 
 
 XaIpE v6<ii, '6t' apWTOi 'AxaiU'V Srjpwcjvro. 
 &g yap 01 XP''*^" livSriaaro $oi/3oc 'AiroKXiav 
 TlvBoX iv ijyaflep, 'off viripPt) Xdivov oiiSbv 
 ■XfniaopuvoQ' ToTt yap pa Kv\ivSeTO irrniaros apxn 
 Tpiaai n xai Aavaotai Aibg fityaXov Std jSouXae." 
 
 HoM.: Oifyssn', 8. 73. 
 
128 LUDIBRIA LUN^. [book iv. 
 
 LVII. 
 
 Then forward flew the pensive Maid, 
 Fair Pastorelle, skilled on flute or fiddle 
 To sing to Shepherds in the shade, 
 And all their rustic doubts to unriddle ; 
 Of Marriage much her pipe had played. 
 Faith, Duty, Passions of the Idyll, 
 Or such as his high strings arouse- 
 Who sang "the Angel in the House." 
 
 LVIII. 
 
 Now on her winged steed full trot 
 She mounts to Heaven, nor fears to fall, 
 (Her steed swift Pegasus begot, 
 Strayed sometime to a Rector's stall). 
 Singing the hard but human lot, 
 That waits on wedded curates all.* 
 Mute hung both armies in the air, 
 These triumph fills, and these despair. 
 
 • These are the subjects chosen by the new, the pastoral, the pro- 
 gressive. 
 
 " Then the girl in her first youth 
 Married a curate — handsome, poor in purse, 
 Of gentle blood and manners, and he lived 
 Under her father's roof as they had planned. 
 Full soon, for happy years are short, they filled 
 The house vnth children." 
 
 —Laurance. By Jean Ikgelow. 
 
BOOK IV.] LUDIBRIA LUNjE. 1 29 
 
 LIX. 
 
 And next she sang of wedded life 
 Before the Dodo and the Moa, 
 Japhet's mesalliance, and his wife, 
 And what Niloyah said to Noah ;* 
 At last — to close the doubtful strife. 
 And prove that, in the modern Stoa, 
 Men even with their own wives may dwell 
 Resigned — she sang the letter L.-f- 
 
 * This is the manner in which the " Revolution " School of Poets 
 opens an epic : — 
 
 "Niloyah said to Noah, 'What aileth thee. 
 My master, unto whom is my desire, 
 The father of my sons ? ' He answered her, 
 ' Mother of many children, I have heard 
 The voice again. ' ' Ah me ! ' she saith, ' Ah me ! 
 What spake it ? ' and with that NUoyah sighed." 
 
 — Story of Doom. 
 
 t This is how modern Virtue writes of marriage. (N. B. — ^The ' ' bold 
 brown woman" is an old love of the husband). — 
 
 " ' My wife, how beautiful you are ! ' 
 Then closer at her side reclined. 
 ' The bold brown woman from afar 
 Comes to me blind. 
 And by comparison I see 
 
 The majesty of matron grace. 
 And learn how pure, how fair can be 
 My own wife's face.' " 
 
 —The Letter L. 
 
 A logical husband, indeed ! who cannot feel sure of his own wife's 
 purity and beauty, till he has applied what Mr. Mill calls the Method of 
 Difference. 
 
I30 LUDIBRIA LUN^. [book iv. 
 
 LX. 
 
 Rage seized the -God, despair, and dread ; 
 His harp fell shivering to the ground ; 
 Swift turned he, and, with wings outspread, 
 Shot, lightning, to the vast profound ; 
 Then, crossing, to the Moon he fled, 
 And sat in wrath, till, safe from sound. 
 Sweet Silence o'er his senses stole. 
 And healed the discord in his soul. 
 
 LXI. 
 
 But in the fight no pause there is, 
 On rush the Maids, fierce Pyrrha first : 
 At whom shot Love ; nor did he miss. 
 The barb her heart-strings seemed to burst : 
 Yet still she raged : then Artemis, 
 Seeing her now for death athirst. 
 Sent, in great pity of her pain, 
 A sweet sharp arrow to her brain. 
 
 LXII. 
 
 Then down upon her shoulder she 
 Drooped her low head so sweetly slain. 
 As tired poppy heads you see 
 Bowed in the burden of much rain.* 
 
 * "Lassove papavera coUo 
 Demisere caput, pluvia quum forte gravantur." 
 
 ViRG. : j€,neid, 9. 436. 
 
BOOK IV.] LUDIBRIA LUN^ 13 1 
 
 Light Lesbia, weeping Lalage, 
 Their sister's quiet limbs sustain, 
 And took and bore her gently down, 
 Like Sleep and Death, to her own town. * 
 
 LXIII. 
 Love, who had thought the shaft his own, 
 Swiftly the airy champaign trod 
 Pursuing ; but his form was known : 
 The Sibyl seized the bloody rod : 
 Forth sprang she, daring all alone 
 The immortal Babe : then feared the God ; 
 Swift towards the stars his flight he wings, 
 And close behind Sibylla springs. 
 
 LXIV. 
 
 Then through the bosom of the night 
 Pell-mell the adverse missiles poured. 
 Do thou the fortunes of the fight, 
 Urania, heavenly Muse, record. 
 Deeds done beyond my mortal sight, 
 Where never hawk nor heron soared, 
 Nor bold discoverer of the sky. 
 Save English Astulph, dared to fly. 
 
 * See the passage in the Iliad, where Sleep and Death carry the body 
 of Sarpedon back to Lycia. 
 
132 LUDIBRIA LUN^. [book iv. 
 
 LXV. 
 
 First on the Maids fierce arrows fell, 
 
 Sharp, swift, and slant, like silver rain, 
 
 Such as in other times men tell 
 
 Stymphalus' cursed brood had slain, 
 
 Or sweet Alcestis saved from hell, 
 
 Or pierced Orion in the main ; 
 
 Then Mars' bright spear, with vengeance hurled. 
 
 Reddened the stars, and shook the world. 
 
 LXVI. 
 
 But safely housed their ships within. 
 And walls by Science triply steeled, 
 The women let them smite and spin. 
 On tower, and targe, and plated shield ; 
 They cared no more to hear the din, 
 Than when the snow-winds from the field 
 Beat the warm roofs in idle ire. 
 Where Yule-tide gossips mend the fire. 
 
 LXVII. 
 
 At once, in every iron grot. 
 The gunners their fusees prepare. 
 Then, in an instant, fire and shot 
 Burn into red the blazing air ; 
 Myriads of needles mount red-hot ; 
 Swift flights of flaming arrows glare ; 
 A thousand rockets curve their road 
 In fire ; a thousand bombs explode. 
 
BOOK IV.] LUDIBRIA LUN^. 1 33 
 
 LXVIII. 
 
 Incessantly the radiance red 
 
 Flames, and incessantly expires ; 
 
 The air, driven in by impulse dread, 
 
 Plunged backwards, as the sea retires 
 
 In earthquake huge ; you might have said 
 
 A million meteoric fires, 
 
 Wild off-cast of a million suns, 
 
 Had burst upon our world at once. 
 
 LXIX. 
 
 Oft plunged as in some airy grave, 
 The women sank in sudden void ; 
 As sudden with resurgent wave 
 Shot starwards, on the summit buoyed ; 
 But little feared those Sailors brave, 
 Nay, rather in the peril joyed ; 
 Featly they tack, unreef, or furl, 
 And still their red artillery hurl. 
 
 LXX. 
 
 But vain beneath that iron hail 
 Was all the armoury of Heaven ; 
 Now riven is Mars' bright coat of mail, 
 Medusa's marble head is riven ; 
 Cold as the surges in a gale, 
 The ichor round their hearts is driven ; 
 And long to silence used, new fears 
 Break in with thunder through their ears. 
 
134 LUDIBRIA LUN^. [book iv. 
 
 LXXI. 
 
 Once more it seemed their giant foes, 
 Upheaving their incumbent piles, 
 Typhon in flames of Etna rose, 
 Enceladus with all his isles, , 
 Straining with supreme spasm to close 
 In thunder on their doomed files : 
 Ruin and Rout before them spread 
 Their hideous shapes : they turned and fled. 
 
 LXXII. 
 
 Then, drunk with hope and fierce delight. 
 The women, freed from mortal awe, 
 Forgot the limits of their flight. 
 And empty space and nature's law ; 
 Above them shone the boundless night ; 
 The rolling planet-worlds they saw, 
 Their destined realms ; — and as they sprang 
 In swift pursuit the army sang : 
 
 LXXIIl. 
 
 " The Gods are fled ! The Gods are fled ! 
 The film is fallen from our eyes ! 
 The heart is vanquished by the head ! 
 Ho ! for the secrets of the skies ! 
 Now the world's ocean all outspread 
 Waits for the traffic of the wise : 
 Nor fear nor death our passage bars ; 
 We mount for ever to the stars. 
 
BOOK IV.] LUDIBRIA LUN^. 135 
 
 I-XXIV. 
 
 " Ye planets ! whom on Ida's hill, 
 Or on the lone Chaldsean lawn, 
 The shepherd loved with Gods to fill. 
 Mercury, at set of sun withdrawn, 
 And Venus, beautiful and still, 
 White empress of the dewy dawn ; 
 To whom, with altars on the sward. 
 He bowed in weakness, and adored ; 
 
 LXXV. 
 
 " Bright lamps ! whom once with childish fears 
 We watched ascending from your caves, 
 Steering through all the tangled spheres. 
 Or rolling westward to the waves ; 
 How still, how godlike, clad in years. 
 Ye gleamed above our fathers' graves ! 
 But now hath Science broke the pale. 
 Your Gods are fled ! Ye planets, hail ! 
 
 LXXVI. 
 
 " Mount, mount, O Women, mount ! For us 
 Life has no bounds, and Hope no goals. 
 Thus soar we to the Moon, and thus 
 Shall seek from thence the snowy poles 
 Of Mars, and yet where Uranus, 
 Or where extremest Neptune rolls. 
 Or lodged with Saturn shall see clear 
 His moons, and rings and en'dless year. 
 
136 LUDIBRIA LUN^. [book iv. 
 
 LXXVII. 
 " And when those silent worlds we reach, 
 If they be tenantless, new springs 
 Of art shall rise, and human speech : 
 Or, haply, on Discovery's wings, 
 We may find some slave-star to teach 
 Our Freedom and contempt of kings ; 
 And Heaven shall breathe from fire to fire 
 Our harmonies, one living lyre. 
 
 LXXVIII. 
 
 " Bright Hope ! What deserts shall we till ! 
 To what poor captives bring release ! 
 Time shall his cycles there fulfill 
 With Innocence and dove-like Peace. 
 There Hate and Envy, Wrath and 111, 
 Shall perish, and all, Pride shall cease ; 
 Yet shall Equality secure 
 The rich, for none shall then be poor. 
 
 LXXIX. 
 
 " Death's self, who now makes mortals bend. 
 Strong man and weak, young maid and hoar, 
 Tears child from sire, and friend from friend. 
 Shall visit those bright worlds no more ; 
 There new electric fires shall lend 
 Their succours, and our veins restore ; 
 New herbs recruit life's sinking wave ; 
 New minerals cheat the expectant grave. 
 
BOOK IV.] LUDIBRIA LUN^. 137 
 
 LXXX. 
 
 " Therefore farewell to thee, O Earth, 
 With all thy passion, strife, and pain. 
 Thy dark extremes of dower and dearth, 
 Outwearied land, and toiling main ! 
 Let those who now desire new birth. 
 Mount, and experience Woman's reign. 
 Now the new Dawn her light hath shed ! 
 The Heavens are free ! The Gods are fled ! " * 
 
 LXXXI. 
 
 Thus they : but far from shot and spear, 
 Venus had watched the doubtful field ; 
 Now sprang she to the flying rear. 
 And her broad crystal orb revealed ; 
 Full on it smote the moonbeams clear ; 
 Then radiant shone the enchanted shield, 
 As the reflector far and wide 
 Shoots the lamp's radiance o'er the tide. 
 
 * Some will, doubtless, object that generous sentiments are deserving 
 of praise rather than punishment. Yet it is somewhat mortifying to our 
 vanity to remember that philanthropic talk of this kind was, before the 
 French Revolution, common in the mouths of men who, in a few years' 
 time, were drinking each other's blood, or superintending the Noyades. 
 It was once the opinion of Jeremiah that ' ' the heart is deceitful above 
 all things, and desperately wicked. " Since the French Revolution 7wus 
 avom change tout cela. ' ' This very afternoon, " says a female philosopher 
 of the States, "I heard quoted in the Temperance Convention — but 
 there is no such passage in the Bible — ' the heart of man is prone to evil, 
 and that continually. ' Now we know that man is prone to good, and 
 that continually. So thoroughly good is human nature, that, in spite 
 of bad laws, man is not so bad as he might be utlder them." — Report of 
 Fourth Woman^ s-Rights Convention, p. 65. 
 
138 LUDIBRIA LUN^. [book iv. 
 
 LXXXII. 
 
 Straight, as the needle seeks its star, 
 
 And swift as steel to magnet draws, 
 
 Around the wondrous Shield from far. 
 
 Obedient to celestial laws. 
 
 The Maidens came ; the airy war 
 
 They quite forgot, forgot their cause ; 
 
 For lost in vanity, poor elves ! 
 
 They saw but their own beauteous selves. 
 
 LXXXIII. 
 
 The Goddess paused one moment dread. 
 Then slow, sublime, begins to rise, 
 And, as some comet, fiery, red. 
 Flames on the nations by surprise. 
 And with its monstrous tail outspread 
 Mounts sunwards, grasping all the skies ; 
 And men grow pale beneath the stars. 
 Dreaming of earthquakes, plagues, and wars ; 
 
 LXXXIV. 
 
 So now the Immortals far beneath 
 
 Behold the Maids drawn up on high, 
 
 Following the Shield with bated breath, 
 
 Mechanic oar, and stony eye ; 
 
 Thus Mercury's staff o'er streams of Death 
 
 Conducts the souls of those who die ; 
 
 Now grows earth's breath more fine and rare ; 
 
 They reach the Hmits of the air. 
 
BOOK IV.] LUDIBRIA LUN^E. 1 39 
 
 LXXXV. 
 
 First to the verge the Goddess came, 
 And crossed it : in the Sun's bright rays 
 The burning crystal seemed aflame, 
 ShriveUing their eyeballs in its blaze ; 
 Yet still the Maids, with faint blind aim. 
 As fluttering moths whom candles daze. 
 Flew onwards, reached the farthest bound, 
 Passed it, then sank in the Profound. 
 
 LXXXVI. 
 
 But steadfast on the airy ball 
 Holding aloof her crystal wonder, 
 Up-towered the Queen majestical. 
 And rolled to earth a voice like thunder : 
 " Matrons, and Maids, and Women all, 
 Who worship Heaven, and dwell thereunder. 
 Still honouring Eld, nor seek to unsphere 
 Custom and Sex, attend and fear ! 
 
 LXXXVII. 
 
 " I, Venus, of the charmed zone. 
 Child of the fresh foam of the Sea, 
 Had chosen woman as mine own. 
 For fairest of fair things was she ; 
 Perfected Grace was hers alone ; 
 Her limbs I made more dehcately ; 
 She ruled by soft Persuasion's charms ; 
 And Wit and Weakness were her arms. 
 
140 LUDIBRIA LUN^. [book iv. 
 
 LXXXVIII. 
 
 " And loyal Devotion crowned her brows, 
 Eager to give and slow to seek ; 
 Enough it seemed to rule man's house, 
 Silent and beautiful and meek ; 
 Fair Modesty had all her vows ; 
 Apt scholar of the noblest Greek,* 
 In haunts of men unseen, unheard, 
 She her sweet privacy preferred. 
 
 LXXXIX. 
 
 " So when the blood-red star malign 
 Rose, and wild Revolution's blast 
 Shook all things ancient or divine. 
 When every fool blasphemed the Past, 
 Yet woman watched the sacred shrine. 
 And held her olden anchors fast. 
 As through fire, earthquake, storm, eclipse, 
 Tranquilly ride the harboured ships. 
 
 * See the Funeral Oration of Pericles : — 
 
 " et Se ft£ Sei Kal yvvaiKiiaQ rt apsTTJQ^ offat vvv iv j(jjpei^ tffovraij 
 HvriaOijvai, fSpaxdf vapaivkati iiirav atJiiavCi' rfjc re yelp {nrapxovarig 
 fvatiiiQ firi xtipoai yevkaBai vjxXv /ttyaXjj ^ S6i,a, Kal riQ &v Itt iXaxWTOV 
 aperrjg Trkpi f) \p6yov iv roig dpatai K\tog y." 
 
 Thucydides : Book ii. 45. 
 
 " If I must say something about the excellence of women also — such 
 as may now be in widowhood — I will signify it all in brief advice. For 
 not to fall below the nature that you already have, is your great glory, 
 and hers, too, is great glory, whose name is least often heard in men's 
 mouths, either for good or for evil. " 
 
BOOK IV.] LUDIBRIA LUN^. I41 
 
 XC. 
 
 " Nay, like the drifting vessel's chart, 
 She taught mankind the sands to shun ; 
 And mother's milk did Truth impart. 
 And sisters' lives to Honour won ; 
 For who, that's felt a mother's heart. 
 Can be an all degenerate son ? * 
 And who, that knows a sister's name 
 Means Loyalty, be deaf to Shame ? 
 
 xci. 
 
 " The sick man's brow and labouring breath 
 Grew easier when her form passed by ; 
 Her image in the hour of death 
 Last faded from the clouding eye ; 
 Nay, oft she seemed to man beneath 
 A hope of Immortality, 
 Else Pity, Charity, and Trust, 
 Angels of Heaven, were counted dust. 
 
 * This is not at all the light in which the- votaries of Social Science 
 regard their mothers. In an able paper read last year, Mr. Myers is 
 reported to have said, ' ' Motherhood, at least, was within woman's sphere ; 
 and was the mother's influence — an educational engine to which all 
 others were mere child's play — to be intrusted to designed incompetence 
 and predetermined imbecility ? " — Report of National Association for 
 Promoting Social Science, 1868, J>. 451. Have these educational engi- 
 neers no perception of the meaning implied in our very expressive 
 idiom " mother wit ?" 
 
42 LUDIBRIA LUN^. [book iv 
 
 xcir. 
 
 " Yet was she mortal and of earth ; 
 One frailty to her soul I gave ; 
 By Vanity I sealed her birth, 
 And now is Vanity her grave ; 
 Ah, that one fault should qloud such worth ! 
 Yet Virtue is too weak to save ! 
 Nor Wit shall e'er outweigh the excess, 
 Nor Beauty nor Delightfulness. 
 
 XCIII. 
 
 " For once I gave from Heaven above, 
 To mother, daughter, sister, wife, 
 As chosen Priestesses of Love, 
 The sacred keys of Private Life ; 
 This was my dear untrodden grove,* 
 Sheltered from storms of public strife, 
 Shaded from the eye of garish day. 
 Where myriad Fancies still might play. 
 
 XCIV. 
 
 " But some, by Vanity beguiled, 
 Threw wide my dark and quiet door. 
 And vulgar Pride, Ambition wild. 
 Rushed in, and Hatred, and Uproar ; 
 
 * " Td.v d^arov 9(ov 
 
 ^vXKdda, fivpioKapirov, avriXixiv, 
 dvijveiiov T£ irdvTitiv 
 
 Soph. : CE. C.,6ys. 
 
BOOK IV.] LUDIBRIA LUN^. I43 
 
 And now my grove is all defiled, 
 There Peace and Fancy play no more ; 
 Gone is the Illusion, and Life's bloom 
 Is lost. Enough ! They have their doom. 
 
 XCV. 
 
 " Too weak their vanity to rein, 
 They soared, by Hope and Madness driven. 
 Heaven's starry Silence to profane. 
 And sinned the sin that's ne'er forgiven. 
 Now ye, who still on Earth remain, 
 Read well your hearts, and reverence Heaven ; 
 Born to short years, hope not too high, 
 But live, remembering ye must die ! " 
 
 xcvr. 
 
 She said : but as the Muses tell. 
 The Women, from the airy steep 
 Dashed headlong, fell, and fell, and fell. 
 From space to space, from deep to deep. 
 Through voids, where Death alone can dwell, 
 And Silence, and eternal Sleep ; 
 Down, ever downwards, resting never. 
 They fell, and so shall fall for ever. 
 
 THE END. 
 
LONDON ; 
 
 PRINTED BY SMITH, ELDER AND CO., 
 
 OLD BAILEY, E.C.