"Say why are Beauties prais'd and honour'd most, The wise man's passion, and the vain man's toast? 10 Why deck'd with all that land and sea afford, Why Angels call'd, and Angel-like ador'd? Why round our coaches crowd the white-glov'd Beaux, Why bows the side-box from its inmost rows; How vain are all these glories, all our pains, 15 Unless good sense preserve what beauty gains: That men may say, when we the front-box grace: 'Behold the first in virtue as in face!' Oh! if to dance all night, and dress all day, Charm'd the small-pox, or chas'd old-age away; 20 Who would not scorn what housewife's cares produce, Or who would learn one earthly thing of use? To patch, nay ogle, might become a Saint, Nor could it sure be such a sin to paint. But since, alas! frail beauty must decay, 25 Curl'd or uncurl'd, since Locks will turn to grey; Since painted, or not painted, all shall fade, And she who scorns a man, must die a maid; What then remains but well our pow'r to use, And keep good-humour still whate'er we lose? 30 And trust me, dear! good-humour can prevail, When airs, and flights, and screams, and scolding fail. Beauties in vain their pretty eyes may roll; Charms strike the sight, but merit wins the soul." So spoke the Dame, but no applause ensu'd; 35 Belinda frown'd, Thalestris call'd her Prude. "To arms, to arms!" the fierce Virago cries, And swift as lightning to the combat flies. All side in parties, and begin th' attack; Fans clap, silks rustle, and tough whalebones crack; 40 Heroes' and Heroines' shouts confus'dly rise, And bass, and treble voices strike the skies. No common weapons in their hands are found, Like Gods they fight, nor dread a mortal wound. So when bold Homer makes the Gods engage, 45 And heav'nly breasts with human passions rage; 'Gainst Pallas, Mars; Latona, Hermes arms; And all Olympus rings with loud alarms: Jove's thunder roars, heav'n trembles all around, Blue Neptune storms, the bellowing deeps resound: 50 Earth shakes her nodding tow'rs, the ground gives way. And the pale ghosts start at the flash of day! Triumphant Umbriel on a sconce's height Clapp'd his glad wings, and sate to view the fight: Propp'd on the bodkin spears, the Sprites survey 55 The growing combat, or assist the fray.