The Lure of Venus or, A Harlot's Progress. An Heroi-Comical Poem. In Six Cantos. By Mr. Joseph Gay.[i.e. J. D. Breval] Founded Upon Mr. Hogarth's Six Paintings; and illustrated with Prints of them |
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| I. |
| II. |
| III. |
| IV. |
| V. |
Canto V.
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| VI. |
 | The Lure of Venus |  |
34
Canto V.
No wicked Whores shall have good Luck,
Who follow their own Wills;
But purg'd shall be to Skin and Bone,
With Mercury and Pills.
Pope's Vers. of 1st Psalm.
Who follow their own Wills;
But purg'd shall be to Skin and Bone,
With Mercury and Pills.
Pope's Vers. of 1st Psalm.
Say, pitying Muse, how direful are the Pains,
Which vicious Pleasure in its Womb contains!
On her short Joys what various Woes attend,
What Mis'ries hasten young Maria's End!
Grant me the Comforts which from Virtue spring;
Pure are her Raptures, for they have no Sting:
They glad the Mind, and (as the Morning Dew
Cheers the green Herb) remain for ever new.
Her Peace is lasting, and the Bliss sincere;
Sweet in Reflection, and to Mem'ry dear:
Not such the Scenes that follow boundless Lust,
All are betray'd, who to its Flatt'ry trust.
Deluding Sense! what do thy Vot'ries gain?
A Moment's Pleasure, and an Age of Pain.
Which vicious Pleasure in its Womb contains!
35
What Mis'ries hasten young Maria's End!
Grant me the Comforts which from Virtue spring;
Pure are her Raptures, for they have no Sting:
They glad the Mind, and (as the Morning Dew
Cheers the green Herb) remain for ever new.
Her Peace is lasting, and the Bliss sincere;
Sweet in Reflection, and to Mem'ry dear:
Not such the Scenes that follow boundless Lust,
All are betray'd, who to its Flatt'ry trust.
Deluding Sense! what do thy Vot'ries gain?
A Moment's Pleasure, and an Age of Pain.
Maria wept when in the dismal Jail,
Nor wept in vain; e'en there her Tears prevail,
And purchase her Release: But scarce was she
From Bridewell's painful Drudgery set free,
E'er strange Disorders her fair Frame invade;
Her Charms decay, the boasted Roses fade
On her pale Cheek, and now a lingring Fire,
Not such as us'd to warm her loose Desire,
Marrs her fair Form, and taints her beauteous Skin
With many an Ulcer foul: Sharp Pains within
Rack every Joynt, and torture ev'ry Bone,
What Heart untouch'd, cou'd hear her piteous Moan.
Sure, strictest Virtue might let fall a Tear,
And wish the Pangs of Folly less severe.
Each heavy Day was Witness to her Cries,
Each Night redoubled her dire Agonies.
“Ah! Grace, said she, wou'd I had never seen
“This wicked Town, then happy had I been:
“Wanton Ambition led my Thoughts away,
“And made me, foolish, from my Parents stray.
“Or had I been some honest poor Man's Bride,
“I'ad liv'd in Comfort, and with Honour dy'd.
“No Infamy had then disgrac'd my Name,
“Nor vile Disease consum'd my tender Frame:
“My Father's Counsel, and my Mother's Tears,
“Are now remember'd, and increase my Fears.
Nor wept in vain; e'en there her Tears prevail,
And purchase her Release: But scarce was she
From Bridewell's painful Drudgery set free,
E'er strange Disorders her fair Frame invade;
Her Charms decay, the boasted Roses fade
36
Not such as us'd to warm her loose Desire,
Marrs her fair Form, and taints her beauteous Skin
With many an Ulcer foul: Sharp Pains within
Rack every Joynt, and torture ev'ry Bone,
What Heart untouch'd, cou'd hear her piteous Moan.
Sure, strictest Virtue might let fall a Tear,
And wish the Pangs of Folly less severe.
Each heavy Day was Witness to her Cries,
Each Night redoubled her dire Agonies.
“Ah! Grace, said she, wou'd I had never seen
“This wicked Town, then happy had I been:
“Wanton Ambition led my Thoughts away,
“And made me, foolish, from my Parents stray.
“Or had I been some honest poor Man's Bride,
“I'ad liv'd in Comfort, and with Honour dy'd.
37
“Nor vile Disease consum'd my tender Frame:
“My Father's Counsel, and my Mother's Tears,
“Are now remember'd, and increase my Fears.
“With Patience, Grace reply'd, your Pains endure,
“Nor doubt the Doctors can your Illness cure.
“What if your Case should make you be laid down,
“So have been half the Ladies of the Town.
“I'll hire a Nurse experienc'd in the Art,
“And ne'er myself from your dear Side depart.
“But dang'rous is Delay: If you're agreed,
“I'll fetch the Doctor here with utmost Speed.
Maria yields, and soon the Quack is brought,
With Countenance of Weight, and seeming Thought,
He boasts what mighty Cures his Pills have done;
What Myriads he has sav'd; ne'er dy'd but one,
Of all the Thousands who implor'd his Aid;
Nor had he perish'd, but he disobey'd
His Salutary Rules. “Then banish Fear
“A Month or two, says he, will make you clear
“As is a new-born Babe: Again the Rose
“Shall grace your Cheek, and captivate the Beaus.
“A gentle Salivation will remove
“Your racking Pains, and make you fit for Love.”
Maria full of promis'd Health, prepares
For all his Skill can do, or Ign'rance dares.
“Nor doubt the Doctors can your Illness cure.
“What if your Case should make you be laid down,
“So have been half the Ladies of the Town.
“I'll hire a Nurse experienc'd in the Art,
“And ne'er myself from your dear Side depart.
“But dang'rous is Delay: If you're agreed,
“I'll fetch the Doctor here with utmost Speed.
Maria yields, and soon the Quack is brought,
With Countenance of Weight, and seeming Thought,
He boasts what mighty Cures his Pills have done;
What Myriads he has sav'd; ne'er dy'd but one,
38
Nor had he perish'd, but he disobey'd
His Salutary Rules. “Then banish Fear
“A Month or two, says he, will make you clear
“As is a new-born Babe: Again the Rose
“Shall grace your Cheek, and captivate the Beaus.
“A gentle Salivation will remove
“Your racking Pains, and make you fit for Love.”
Maria full of promis'd Health, prepares
For all his Skill can do, or Ign'rance dares.
And now, my Muse, survey th' afflicted Fair,
In Flannel wrapt, and seated in her Chair:
While Mercury exerts its conqu'ring Force,
And to Salival Glands directs its Course.
Noble Specifick! glorious is thy Use,
'Tis thou alone canst trace the pois'nous Juice:
Thy Pow'rs the latent Ruin can expell,
To its most hidden Source, and order'd well,
Thy subtle Parts the inmost Frame pervade,
And sinking Nature feels thy sov'raign Aid.
By thee refin'd, the Blood revives again,
And new-born Health flows fresh in ev'ry Vein.
But other Scenes arise, when untaught Hands
Profane thy Pow'rs, O ever murd'rous Bands!
What wide Destruction your vile Trade does spread:
What Numbers can suffice to count your dead.
To Fame for ever be your Names unknown,
Or with Contempt read in your Bills alone;
Whose gilded Frauds the easy Croud elude,
With promis'd Life and constant Health renew'd.
The Wretched and the Weak the Bait receive,
For Ignorance is aptest to believe.
In Flannel wrapt, and seated in her Chair:
While Mercury exerts its conqu'ring Force,
And to Salival Glands directs its Course.
Noble Specifick! glorious is thy Use,
'Tis thou alone canst trace the pois'nous Juice:
Thy Pow'rs the latent Ruin can expell,
To its most hidden Source, and order'd well,
39
And sinking Nature feels thy sov'raign Aid.
By thee refin'd, the Blood revives again,
And new-born Health flows fresh in ev'ry Vein.
But other Scenes arise, when untaught Hands
Profane thy Pow'rs, O ever murd'rous Bands!
What wide Destruction your vile Trade does spread:
What Numbers can suffice to count your dead.
To Fame for ever be your Names unknown,
Or with Contempt read in your Bills alone;
Whose gilded Frauds the easy Croud elude,
With promis'd Life and constant Health renew'd.
The Wretched and the Weak the Bait receive,
For Ignorance is aptest to believe.
Officious Grace, thought all his Boasting true,
Then fetch'd another of the butch'ring Crew.
And now the Sun had led the sad tenth Day,
Since first the Fair became their helpless Prey.
When both the Sages in Maria's Room,
Attend their Medicines, and her hapless Doom.
Ill-boding Symptoms croud upon the Sight,
A gastful Scene, and full of wild Affright.
Grace scar'd, with Squalling rous'd the doughty Pair
In Musings deep; when hasty from his Chair
The meagre Quack, whose Aid was last implor'd,
Astonish'd rose, and 'gainst his Brother roar'd.
Rising, his Foot Maria's Stool threw down,
When the Scheme Practical, of cheap Renown,
Her daily Study, fell upon the Ground,
With shatter'd Cups, and Ink-Glasses around.
Loud rag'd the Doctor's Ire; “'Tis done, he cry'd,
“You've kill'd the Girl, if ever Woman dy'd;
“You boast Arcanas that will still prevail,
“E'en my Electuary I fear will fail:
“To such Distress is she reduc'd alas!
“Ye Gods, what Wretches for Physicians pass?
Then fetch'd another of the butch'ring Crew.
And now the Sun had led the sad tenth Day,
Since first the Fair became their helpless Prey.
40
Attend their Medicines, and her hapless Doom.
Ill-boding Symptoms croud upon the Sight,
A gastful Scene, and full of wild Affright.
Grace scar'd, with Squalling rous'd the doughty Pair
In Musings deep; when hasty from his Chair
The meagre Quack, whose Aid was last implor'd,
Astonish'd rose, and 'gainst his Brother roar'd.
Rising, his Foot Maria's Stool threw down,
When the Scheme Practical, of cheap Renown,
Her daily Study, fell upon the Ground,
With shatter'd Cups, and Ink-Glasses around.
Loud rag'd the Doctor's Ire; “'Tis done, he cry'd,
“You've kill'd the Girl, if ever Woman dy'd;
“You boast Arcanas that will still prevail,
“E'en my Electuary I fear will fail:
“To such Distress is she reduc'd alas!
“Ye Gods, what Wretches for Physicians pass?
41
The Don return'd, with grave contemptuous Leer,
“You blame my Med'cines, sure you only jeer.
“Tho' dire Convulsions ev'ry Nerve should strain,
“This Phial holds what soon would ease her Pain,
“What wondrous Cures can this my Nostrum do,
“Such nor Hippocrates nor Galen knew.
“Learning's all Cant, the College I despise,
“This is my own; Disease before it, flies:
“Vanquish'd in ev'ry Shape; by this my Name
“Shall swell the Volume of Immortal Fame.
“Your Fears the Danger make; but grant it were
“As your own Ignorance great, I'd not despair,
“With this one Vital-Draught to cure the Fair.
“You blame my Med'cines, sure you only jeer.
“Tho' dire Convulsions ev'ry Nerve should strain,
“This Phial holds what soon would ease her Pain,
“What wondrous Cures can this my Nostrum do,
“Such nor Hippocrates nor Galen knew.
“Learning's all Cant, the College I despise,
“This is my own; Disease before it, flies:
“Vanquish'd in ev'ry Shape; by this my Name
“Shall swell the Volume of Immortal Fame.
“Your Fears the Danger make; but grant it were
“As your own Ignorance great, I'd not despair,
“With this one Vital-Draught to cure the Fair.
42
Whilst thus in senseless Noise they spent their Breath,
Maria sunk into the Arms of Death.
How chang'd that beauteous Face, how swoln the Tongue,
Whose Syren Musick caught the Gay and Young.
Lost are the Charms which rais'd the World to Lust.
What art Thou all, vile putrifying Dust,
Shocking to Sight! Such ghastly Scenes attend
On Vicious Ways, such is their wretched End.
Maria sunk into the Arms of Death.
How chang'd that beauteous Face, how swoln the Tongue,
Whose Syren Musick caught the Gay and Young.
Lost are the Charms which rais'd the World to Lust.
What art Thou all, vile putrifying Dust,
Shocking to Sight! Such ghastly Scenes attend
On Vicious Ways, such is their wretched End.
Amidst the Hurry and confus'd Alarm,
Caus'd by her Death, while yet her Flesh was warm,
The Drury Nurse her old Advantage makes;
Rifles her Trunk, and thence her Treasure takes.
Her Fan, her Mask, her Garments new and old,
Whate'er her Hands can grasp, or Apron hold.
While by the Fire Maria's harmless Boy,
The lusty Product of her guilty Joy,
Was plac'd, a Piece of Roasting Meat to turn,
Lest its scorch'd Sides irregularly burn.
One Hand the String, one did his Head engage,
Mindless of Mamma's Fate, or Doctor's Rage.
The Wooden Mantle-Piece above was grac'd,
With Pots and Phials in due Order plac'd.
High over Head were Shifts and Stockings strung,
Here stood a Bed-Pan, there a Clyster hung.
Never did Art a better Help produce,
Of Application odd, but noblest Use.
Caus'd by her Death, while yet her Flesh was warm,
The Drury Nurse her old Advantage makes;
Rifles her Trunk, and thence her Treasure takes.
Her Fan, her Mask, her Garments new and old,
Whate'er her Hands can grasp, or Apron hold.
43
The lusty Product of her guilty Joy,
Was plac'd, a Piece of Roasting Meat to turn,
Lest its scorch'd Sides irregularly burn.
One Hand the String, one did his Head engage,
Mindless of Mamma's Fate, or Doctor's Rage.
The Wooden Mantle-Piece above was grac'd,
With Pots and Phials in due Order plac'd.
High over Head were Shifts and Stockings strung,
Here stood a Bed-Pan, there a Clyster hung.
Never did Art a better Help produce,
Of Application odd, but noblest Use.
| The Lure of Venus | |