E. OF DORSET: 1. ARTIMESIA by ALEXANDER POPE

Tho' Artimesia talks, by Fits,
Of Councils, Classicks, Fathers, Wits;
Reads Malbranche, Boyle, and Locke:
Yet in some Things methinks she fails,
'Twere well if she would pare her Nails,
And wear a cleaner Smock.

Haughty and huge as High-Dutch Bride,
Such Nastiness and so much Pride
Are odly join'd by Fate:
On her large Squab you find her spread,
Like a fat Corpse upon a Bed,
That lies and stinks in State.

She wears no Colours (sign of Grace)
On any Part except her Face;
All white and black beside:
Dauntless her Look, her Gesture proud,
Her Voice theatrically loud,
And masculine her Stride.

So have I seen, in black and white
A prating Thing, a Magpy height,
Majestically stalk;
A stately, worthless Animal,
That plies the Tongue, and wags the Tall,
All Flutter, Pride, and Talk.

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