The Poems of John Byrom :: :: University of Virginia Library

We found by our Glasses, that what at first sight
Appear'd to be Brains was another Thing quite;
A heap of strange stuff fill'd the holes of his Skull,
Which, perhaps, serv'd the Owner as well to the full.
And as Homer acquaints us (who certainly knew),
That the Blood of the Gods was not real and true,
Only something that was very like it: just so,
Only something like Brain is the Brain of a Beau.

II

The Pineal Gland, where the Soul's Residénce is,
Smelt desperate strong of Perfúmes, and Essénces,

With a bright horny Substance encompast around,
That in numberless Forms, like a Diamond, was ground:
Insomuch that the Soul, if there was any there,
Must have kept pretty constant within its own Sphere;
Having Bus'ness enough, without seeking new Traces,
To employ all its Time with its own pretty Faces.

III

In the hind part o'th' Head there was Brussels and Mechlin,
And Ribands, and Fringes, and such kind of Tackling;
Billet-doux and soft Rimes lin'd the whole Cerebellum,
Op'ra songs and prickt Dances, as 'twere upon Vellum.
A brown kind of Lump, that we ventur'd to squeeze,
Disperst in plain Spanish, and made us all sneeze.
In short, many more of the like kind of Fancies,
Too tedious to tell, fill'd up other Vacáncies.

IV

On the Sides of this Head were in several Purses,
On the Right, Sighs and Vows,—on the Left, Oaths and Curses.

These each sent a Duct to the Root of the Tongue,
From whence to the Tip they went jointly along.
One particular place was observèd to shine
With all sorts of Colours, most wonderful fine;
But when we came nearer to view it, in Troth,
Upon Éxamination 'twas nothing but Froth.

V

A pretty large Vessel did plainly appear
In that part of the Scull 'twixt the Tongue and the Ear;
With a spongy Contrivance distended it was,
Which the French Virtuosos call Galimatiás,
We Englishmen, nonsense: a Matter indeed
That most Peoples Heads are sometimes apt to breed.
Entirely free from it, not one Head in twenty;
But a Beau's, 'tis presum'd, always has it in plenty.

VI

Mighty hard, thick, and tough was the Skin of his Front,
And, what is more strange, not a Blood Vessel on't;
From whence we concluded, the Party deceast
Was never much troubled with Blushing at least.
The Os Cribriforme as full as could stuff
Was cramm'd, and in some Places damag'd, with Snuff:
For Beaux with this Ballast keep stuffing their Crib,
To preserve their light Heads in a true Æquilib.

VII

That Muscle, we found, was exceedingly plain,
That helps a Man's Nose to express his disdain,
If you chance to displease him, or make a Demand,
Which is oft the Beau's Case, that he “don't understand.”
The Reader well knows, 'tis about this same Muscle
That the old Latin Poets all make such a Bustle,
When they paint a Man giving his Noddle a Toss,
And cocking his Nose, like a Rhínocerós.

VIII

Looking into the Eye, where the Musculi lay
Which are call'd Amatorii, that is to say,
Those Muscles, in English, wherewith a Man ogles,
When on a fair Lady he fixes his Goggles,
We found 'em much worn; but that call'd th' Elevator,
Which lifts the Eyes up tow'rds the summit of Nature,
Seem'd so little us'd, that the Beau, I dare say,
Never dazzled his Eyes much with looking that way.

IX

The outside of this Head, for its Shape and its Figure,
Was like other Heads, neither lesser nor bigger;

Its Owner, as we were inform'd, when alive,
Had past for a Man of about thirty-five.
He ate, and he drank, just like one of the Crowd;
For the rest, he drest finely, laught often, talkt loud;
Had Talents in's way; for sometimes at a Ball
The Beau shew'd his Parts, and outcaper'd 'em all.

X

Some Ladies, they say, took the Beau for a Wit;
But in his Head, truly, there lay—deuce a bit.
He was cut off, alas! in the Flow'r of his Age
By an eminent Cit, that was put in a Rage:
The Beau was, it seems, complimenting his Wife,
When his éxtreme Civility cost him his Life;
For his Eminence took up an old paring-Shovel,
And on the hard Ground left my Gem'man to grovel.

XI

Having finish'd our Work, we began to replace
The Brain, such as 'twas, in its own proper Case.
In a fine Piece of scarlet we laid it in State,
And resolv'd to prepare so extraordinary a Pate;
Which would eas'ly be done, our Anatomist thought,
Having found many Tubes that already were fraught
With a kind of a Substance he took for Mercurial,
Lodg'd there, he suppos'd, long before the Beau's Burial.

XII

The Head laid aside, he then took up the Heart,
Which he likewise laid open with very great Art;
And with many Particulars truly we met
That gave us great insight into the Coquette.
But having, kind Reader, already transgrest
Too much on your Patience, we'll let the Heart rest;
Having giv'n you the Beau for To-day's Speculation,
We'll reserve the Coquette for another Occasion.