Vulgar words in The Poetical Works of Alexander Pope, Volume 2 (Page 1)
This book at a glance
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But 'tis the fall degrades her to a whore: Let greatness own her and she's mean no more.
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The coxcomb bird, so talkative and grave, That from his cage cries 'Cuckold,' 'Whore,' and 'Knave,' Though many a passenger he rightly call, You hold him no philosopher at all.
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What made (says Montaigne, or more sage Charron) Otho a warrior, Cromwell a buffoon?
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Then turns repentant, and his God adores With the same spirit that he drinks and whores; Enough if all around him but admire, 190 And now the punk applaud, and now the friar.
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When Catiline by rapine swell'd his store; When Cæsar made a noble dame a whore; In this the lust, in that the avarice Were means, not ends; ambition was the vice.
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70 Shall then Uxorio, if the stakes he sweep, Bear home six whores and make his lady weep?
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 To some, indeed, Heaven grants the happier fate, T' enrich a bastard, or a son they hate.
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Yet, to be just to these poor men of pelf, Each does but hate his neighbour as himself: Damn'd to the mines, an equal fate betides The slave that digs it, and the slave that hides.
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Is there a lord, who knows a cheerful noon Without a fiddler, flatterer, or buffoon?
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240 Whose table, wit, or modest merit share, Unelbow'd by a gamester, pimp, or player?
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A nymph of quality admires our knight; He marries, bows at court, and grows polite: Leaves the dull cits, and joins (to please the fair) The well-bred cuckolds in St James's air: First, for his son a gay commission buys, Who drinks, whores, fights, and in a duel dies: 390 His daughter flaunts a viscount's tawdry wife; She bears a coronet and pox for life.
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or finer whore.
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Indulge the vigour of your mounting blood, And let gray fools be indolently good, Who, past all pleasure, damn the joys of sense, With reverend dulness and grave impotence.'
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590 For know, sir knight, of gentle blood I came; I loathe a whore, and startle at the name.
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'If this be struggling, by this holy light, 'Tis struggling with a vengeance (quoth the knight): So Heaven preserve the sight it has restored, As with these eyes I plainly saw thee whored; Whored by my slave--perfidious wretch!
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To her I told whatever could befall: Had but my husband piss'd against a wall, 270 Or done a thing that might have cost his life, She--and my niece--and one more worthy wife, Had known it all: what most he would conceal, To these I made no scruple to reveal.
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Grown old in rhyme, 'twere barbarous to discard Your persevering, unexhausted bard; Damnation follows death in other men, But your damn'd poet lives and writes again.
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20 He says, poor poets lost, while players won, As pimps grow rich, while gallants are undone.
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Let ease, his last request, be of your giving, Nor force him to be damn'd to get his living.
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Blockheads with reason men of sense abhor; But fool 'gainst fool, is barbarous civil war.
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You might have held the pretty head aside, Peep'd in your fans, been serious thus, and cried-- 'The play may pass--but that strange creature, Shore, I can't--indeed now--I so hate a whore--' Just as a blockhead rubs his thoughtless skull, And thanks his stars he was not born a fool; So from a sister sinner you shall hear, 'How strangely you expose yourself, my dear!'
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6 'You'd write as smooth again on glass, And run, on ivory, so glib, As not to stick at fool or ass, Nor stop at flattery or fib.
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1 Dear, damn'd, distracting town, farewell!
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Both parties rage; My vixen mistress squalls; The wits in envious feuds engage; And Homer (damn him!)
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never neighbour call'd me slut: Was Flimnap's dame more sweet in Lilliput?
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Why, in truth, and it is worthy observation, the unequal contention of an old, dull, debauched buffoon Cyclops, with the heaven-directed favourite of Minerva; who, after having quietly borne all the monster's obscene and impious ribaldry, endeth the farce in punishing him with the mark of an indelible brand in his forehead.
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'Don't you think,' argueth he, 'to say only a man has his whore, ought to go for little or nothing?
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But here, in justice both to the poet and the hero, let us further remark, that the calling her his whore implieth she was his own, and not his neighbour's.
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For how much self-denial was exerted not to covet his neighbour's whore?
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) an ill run at play Blank'd his bold visage, and a thin third day; Swearing and supperless the hero sate, Blasphemed his gods, the dice, and damn'd his fate.
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Know, Eusden thirsts no more for sack or praise; He sleeps among the dull of ancient days; Safe, where no critics damn, no duns molest, Where wretched Withers, Ward, and Gildon rest, And high-born Howard, more majestic sire, With fool of quality completes the quire, Thou, Cibber!
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Know, Eusden, &c. In the former edition-- Know, Settle, cloy'd with custard and with praise, Is gather'd to the dull of ancient days, Safe where no critics damn, no duns molest, Where Gildon, Banks, and high-born Howard rest.
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Three cat-calls be the bribe Of him whose chattering shames the monkey tribe: And his this drum whose hoarse heroic bass Drowns the loud clarion of the braying ass.'
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Around him wide a sable army stand, A low-born, cell-bred, selfish, servile band, Prompt or to guard or stab, to saint or damn, Heaven's Swiss, who fight for any god, or man.
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20 Benlowes, propitious still to blockheads, bows; And Shadwell nods the poppy on his brows.
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Each cygnet sweet, of Bath and Tunbridge race, Whose tuneful whistling makes the waters pass: Each songster, riddler, every nameless name, All crowd, who foremost shall be damn'd to fame.
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Blockheads with reason wicked wits abhor, But fool with fool is barbarous civil war.
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like a rolling stone, Thy giddy dulness still shall lumber on, Safe in its heaviness, shall never stray, But lick up every blockhead in the way.
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In the former edition-- Too safe in inborn heaviness to stray, And lick up every blockhead in the way.
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100 There march'd the bard and blockhead, side by side, Who rhymed for hire, and patronised for pride.
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I see advance Whore, pupil, and laced governor from France.
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But chief her shrine where naked Venus keeps, And Cupids ride the lion of the deeps; Where, eased of fleets, the Adriatic main Wafts the smooth eunuch and enamour'd swain, 310 Led by my hand, he saunter'd Europe round, And gather'd every vice on Christian ground; Saw every court, heard every king declare His royal sense of operas or the fair; The stews and palace equally explored, Intrigued with glory, and with spirit whored; Tried all hors-d'oeuvres, all liqueurs defined, Judicious drank, and greatly-daring dined; Dropp'd the dull lumber of the Latin store, Spoil'd his own language, and acquired no more; 320 All classic learning lost on classic ground; And last turned air, the echo of a sound!
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330 Her too receive (for her my soul adores), So may the sons of sons of sons of whores Prop thine, O empress!
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It will be found a true observation, though somewhat surprising, that when any scandal is vented against a man of the highest distinction and character, either in the state or in literature, the public in general afford it a most quiet reception; and the larger part accept it as favourably as if it were some kindness done to themselves: whereas, if a known scoundrel or blockhead but chance to be touched upon, a whole legion is up in arms, and it becomes the common cause of all scribblers, booksellers, and printers whatsoever.
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 An Ass.--A camel will take upon him no more burden than is sufficient for his strength, but there is another beast that crouches under all.
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--Some great poets are positive blockheads.
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An Ape.--Let us take the initial letter of his Christian name, and the initial and final letters of his surname, viz., A P E, and they give you the same idea of an ape as his face, &c. An Ass.--It is my duty to pull off the lion's skin from this little ass.
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 'Noble dame a whore:' the sister of Cato, and mother of Brutus.
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 'Fool or ass:' 'The Dunciad.'--P.
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 Alluding to these lines in the Epistle to Dr Arbuthnot: 'And has not Colley still his lord and whore, His butchers, Henley, his freemasons, Moore?'
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He was introduced as a buffoon to Leo, and promoted to the honour of the laurel--a jest which the court of Rome and the pope himself entered into so far as to cause him to ride on an elephant to the Capitol, and to hold a solemn festival on his coronation, at which it is recorded the poet himself was so transported as to weep for joy.