Jonathan Swift
The Lady's Dressing Room
Five hours, (and who can do it less in?) | ||
By haughty Celia spent in dressing; | ||
The goddess from her chamber issues, | ||
Arrayed in lace, brocade and tissues: | ||
5 | Strephon, who found the room was void | |
And Betty otherwise employed, | ||
Stole in, and took a strict survey, | ||
Of all the litter as it lay: | ||
Whereof, to make the matter clear, | ||
10 | An inventory follows here. | |
And first, a dirty smock appeared, | ||
Beneath the arm-pits well besmeared; | ||
Strephon, the rogue, displayed it wide, | ||
And turned it round on every side. | ||
15 | On such a point few words are best, | |
And Strephon bids us guess the rest; | ||
But swears how damnably the men lie, | ||
In calling Celia sweet and cleanly. | ||
Now listen while he next produces | ||
20 | The various combs for various uses, | |
Filled up with dirt so closely fixt, | ||
No brush could force a way betwixt; | ||
A paste of composition rare, | ||
Sweat, dandruff, powder, lead and hair, | ||
25 | A forehead cloth with oil upont | |
To smooth the wrinkles on her front; | ||
Here alum flower to stop the steams, | ||
Exhaled from sour unsavoury streams; | ||
There night-gloves made of Tripsys hide, | ||
30 | Bequeathed by Tripsy when she died; | |
With puppy water, beautys help, | ||
Distilled from Tripsys darling whelp. | ||
Here gallipots and vials placed, | ||
Some filled with washes, some with paste; | ||
35 | Some with pomatum, paints and slops, | |
And ointments good for scabby chops | ||
Hard by a filthy basin stands, | ||
Fouled with the scouring of her hands; | ||
The basin takes whatever comes, | ||
40 | The scrapings of her teeth and gums, | |
A nasty compound of all hues, | ||
For here she spits, and here she spews. | ||
But oh! it turned poor Strephons bowels, | ||
When he beheld and smelled the towels; | ||
45 | Begummed, bemattered, and beslimed; | |
With dirt, and sweat, and earwax grimed. | ||
No object Strephons eye escapes, | ||
Here, petticoats in frowzy heaps; | ||
Nor be the handkerchiefs forgot, | ||
50 | All varnished oer with snuff and snot. | |
The stockings why should I expose, | ||
Stained with the moisture of her toes; | ||
Or greasy coifs and pinners reeking, | ||
Which Celia slept at least a week in? | ||
55 | A pair of tweezers next he found | |
To pluck her brows in arches round, | ||
Or hairs that sink the forehead low, | ||
Or on her chin like bristles grow. | ||
The virtues we must not let pass, | ||
60 | Of Celias magnifying glass; | |
When frighted Strephon cast his eye ont, | ||
It showed visage of a giant: | ||
A glass that can to sight disclose | ||
The smallest worm in Celias nose, | ||
65 | And faithfully direct her nail | |
To squeeze it out from head to tail; | ||
For catch it nicely by the head, | ||
It must come out alive or dead. | ||
Why, Strephon, will you tell the rest? | ||
70 | And must you needs describe the chest? | |
That careless wench! no creature warn her | ||
To move it out from yonder corner, | ||
But leave it standing full in sight, | ||
For you to exercise your spite. | ||
75 | In vain the workman showed his wit | |
With rings and hinges counterfeit | ||
To make it seem in this disguise, | ||
A cabinet to vulgar eyes; | ||
For Strephon ventured to look in, | ||
80 | Resolved to go through thick and thin; | |
He lifts the lid: there need no more, | ||
He smelt it all the time before. | ||
As, from within Pandoras box, | ||
When Epimethus oped the locks, | ||
85 | A sudden universal crew | |
Of human evils upward flew; | ||
He still was comforted to find | ||
That hope at last remained behind. | ||
So, Strephon, lifting up the lid, | ||
90 | To view what in the chest was hid, | |
The vapours flew from out the vent, | ||
But Strephon cautious never meant | ||
The bottom of the pan to grope, | ||
And foul his hands in search of hope. | ||
95 | O never may such vile machine | |
Be once in Celias chamber seen! | ||
O may she better learn to keep | ||
Those secrets of the hoary deep. | ||
As mutton cutlets, prime of meat, | ||
100 | Which though with art you salt and beat, | |
As laws of cookery require, | ||
And roast them at the clearest fire; | ||
If from adown the hopeful chops | ||
The fat upon a cinder drops, | ||
105 | To stinking smoke it turns the flame | |
Poisoning the flesh from whence it came; | ||
And up exhales a greasy stench, | ||
For which you curse the careless wench: | ||
So things which must not be expressed, | ||
110 | When plumped into the reeking chest, | |
Send up an excremental smell | ||
To taint the parts from which they fell: | ||
The petticoats and gown perfume, | ||
And waft a stink round every room. | ||
115 | Thus finishing his grand survey, | |
Disgusted Strephon stole away, | ||
Repeating in his amorous fits, | ||
Oh! Celia, Celia, Celia shits! | ||
But Vengeance, goddess never sleeping, | ||
120 | Soon punished Strephon for his peeping. | |
His foul imagination links | ||
Each dame he sees with all her stinks: | ||
And, if unsavoury odours fly, | ||
Conceives a lady standing by: | ||
125 | All women his description fits, | |
And both ideas jump like wits, | ||
By vicious fancy coupled fast, | ||
And still appearing in contrast. | ||
I pity wretched Strephon, blind | ||
130 | To all the charms of womankind; | |
Should I the queen of love refuse, | ||
Because she rose from stinking ooze? | ||
To him that looks behind the scene, | ||
Statiras but some pocky quean. | ||
135 | When Celia in her glory shows, | |
If Strephon would but stop his nose, | ||
Who now so impiously blasphemes | ||
Her ointments, daubs, and paints and creams; | ||
Her washes, slops, and every clout, | ||
140 | With which he makes so foul a rout, | |
He soon would learn to think like me, | ||
And bless his ravished eyes to see | ||
Such order from confusion sprung, | ||
Such gaudy tulips raised from dung. | ||
First published 1732
Robert Clark