The Rape of the Lock

The Rape of the Lock - Canto One

Background

Before getting into the poem, it is important to understand why Pope wrote it and what kind of poem it is. This poem is based on a real incident that took place in early eighteenth century English aristocratic society. A young nobleman named Lord Petre cut off a lock of hair from a young woman named Arabella Fermor at a social gathering, and this small and seemingly trivial act caused a serious quarrel between two prominent families. A mutual friend named John Caryll asked Alexander Pope to write a humorous poem about the incident, hoping that laughter might ease the tension between the two families and bring the quarrel to an end.

Pope responded by writing what is now considered the greatest mock epic poem in the English language. To understand the poem, you need to understand what a mock epic is. A regular epic poem is a long, grand, and serious poem about heroic deeds, great wars, divine intervention, and the fate of entire nations. Examples include Homer's Iliad, which is about the Trojan War, and Virgil's Aeneid, which is about the founding of Rome. These poems use elevated and majestic language to deal with subjects of enormous importance. A mock epic takes all of that grand and elevated language and all those serious epic conventions and applies them to something completely trivial and unimportant. The comedy and the satire come from the enormous gap between how grand and serious the language and style sound and how ridiculous and petty the actual subject really is. Throughout the poem, Pope is gently but pointedly mocking the aristocratic society of his time, which treated trivial social events with the same gravity and passion that classical heroes brought to genuine war and genuine tragedy.

Part One - The Poet States His Subject and Invokes the Muse (Lines One to Six) What dire offence from am'rous causes springs, What mighty contests rise from trivial things, I sing - This verse to Caryll, Muse! is due: This, ev'n Belinda may vouchsafe to view:

Slight is the subject, but not so the praise, If She inspire, and He approve my lays. Every classical epic poem begins with two things. First, a statement of the poem's subject, where the poet announces what great event or conflict he is going to describe. Second, an invocation (a formal appeal or prayer) to the Muse, who is the divine goddess of poetic inspiration, asking her to help the poet tell his story properly. Homer begins the Iliad by saying sing, O goddess, the anger of Achilles. Virgil begins the Aeneid by saying I sing of arms and the man. Pope deliberately copies this grand tradition but applies it to something absurd.

He opens by saying what dire (terrible and serious) offence from am'rous (romantic and love-related) causes springs, and what mighty contests rise from trivial things, I sing. The word dire makes us expect something genuinely terrible and important. The word mighty makes us expect a grand and significant conflict. But then Pope immediately tells us these mighty contests rise from trivial things. He announces the central joke of the entire poem in the very first two lines. He is going to use the grandest possible language to describe something completely petty and unimportant.

He then says this verse is due to Caryll, referring to the real John Caryll who suggested the poem. In doing this, Pope replaces the traditional divine Muse with a real living human being, which is already a gentle deflation (a reducing of grandeur) of the epic tradition. He also says that even Belinda may vouchsafe (graciously condescend) to view it. Belinda is the fictional name for Arabella Fermor, the real woman whose hair was cut. The word vouchsafe is very formal and respectful, as though Belinda were a queen doing Pope a great favour by agreeing to glance at his humble poem. This is both a compliment to her and a gentle tease about her sense of her own importance.

Pope ends this opening section by saying slight is the subject but not so the praise, openly admitting that the subject matter is unimportant but arguing that the quality of his poetry is still worthy of admiration. This shows Pope's characteristic confidence and self-awareness. He knows exactly what he is doing and he is not pretending otherwise. He is proud of the craft even as he acknowledges the triviality of the subject.

Part Two - The Epic Questions About the Conflict (Lines Seven to Twelve) Say what strange motive, Goddess! could compel A well-bred Lord to assault a gentle Belle?

O say what stranger cause, yet unexplor'd, Could make a gentle Belle reject a Lord?

In tasks so bold, can little men engage, And in soft bosoms dwells such mighty Rage? Having stated his subject, Pope now performs the second great opening convention of classical epic, which is asking the Muse to explain the cause of the great conflict. In Homer, the poet asks why Achilles was so angry. Pope asks two questions that are structured exactly like the epic question but are applied to something ridiculous. He asks what strange motive could compel a well-bred (polite, refined, and of good social standing) Lord to assault (attack) a gentle Belle (a refined and beautiful young woman) . The word assault is the key to the comedy here. Cutting a lock of hair from a woman's head is being described as though it were a violent military assault, a genuine attack on a defenceless person. The word compel suggests the Lord was driven by some overwhelming and mysterious force, as though cutting someone's hair required a profound and dramatic motivation rather than simply being a flirtatious prank.

He then asks what stranger cause could make a gentle Belle reject a Lord. The woman's refusal to forgive him is treated as an equally mysterious and momentous decision, as though refusing to accept an apology for a social prank were equivalent to a great political or military choice with consequences for an entire nation.

The final two lines are particularly sharp and well-crafted. Can little men engage in tasks so bold, and in soft bosoms dwells such mighty Rage? Little men refers to the moral and intellectual smallness of these aristocratic men who concern themselves with such petty social dramas. Yet they engage in bold tasks. Soft bosoms refers to the delicate and feminine world of these aristocratic women. Yet in those soft bosoms dwells mighty Rage. The contrast between little and bold, between soft and mighty Rage, placed in the same breath, is deliberately absurd. These are small and petty people feeling and behaving as though they are involved in something heroic and of genuine importance, and that gap between their self-importance and their actual pettiness is exactly what Pope is satirising throughout the entire poem.

Part Three - The Morning and Belinda Waking Up (Lines Thirteen to Twenty-six) Sol thro' white curtains shot a tim'rous ray, And oped those eyes that must eclipse the day: Now lap-dogs give themselves the rousing shake, And sleepless lovers, just at twelve, awake: Thrice rung the bell, the slipper knock'd the ground, And the press'd watch return'd a silver sound. Belinda still her downy pillow prest, Her guardian Sylph prolong'd the balmy rest: 'Twas He had summon'd to her silent bed The morning-dream that hover'd o'er her head;

A Youth more glitt'ring than a Birth-night Beau, (That ev'n in slumber caus'd her cheek to glow) Seem'd to her ear his winning lips to lay, And thus in whispers said, or seem'd to say. Pope now moves to describing the morning and Belinda waking up, and he treats this completely ordinary domestic event as though it were a grand and cosmic moment of the highest significance. Every detail is given a grandeur it does not deserve, and this is the mock-epic technique applied to everyday life.

He begins by saying Sol through white curtains shot a tim'rous (timid and hesitant) ray. Sol is the Latin name for the Sun, and using this elevated classical word instead of simply saying the sun immediately gives the description an epic and classical quality. The Sun is personified (given human qualities), and the quality it is given is timorous, meaning shy and afraid. The great celestial body, the mighty Sun, is described as hesitant and fearful, as though it is afraid to shine too brightly in case it disturbs Belinda's sleep. The idea of the Sun being afraid of waking a sleeping aristocratic girl is obviously absurd, and it is meant to be. Pope is mocking the kind of excessive flattery that fashionable women of his time constantly received, the insistence that they were so beautiful and so important that even the natural world deferred to them. These shy rays opened those eyes that must eclipse (outshine and overshadow) the day. Belinda's eyes are so bright and beautiful that they outshine the very Sun that woke her. This is hyperbole (deliberate and extreme exaggeration for comic and satirical effect). Pope is both flattering Belinda with this over-the-top compliment and gently mocking a culture in which such absurd exaggeration was considered normal and acceptable flattery. But immediately after this grand and cosmic image, Pope writes now lap-dogs give themselves the rousing shake. The small pet dog waking up and shaking itself is placed immediately after Belinda's eyes eclipsing the Sun. This is bathos, which means a sudden and jarring drop from something elevated and grand to something silly and trivial. The lap-dog and the Sun are placed in the same moment, on the same level, as though they are equally significant events in the morning. This technique of immediately deflating his own grand images is something Pope uses throughout the poem, and it is one of his most effective comic tools.

Sleepless lovers just at twelve awake. The key word is twelve, meaning noon. These aristocratic people wake up at noon. Noon is their morning. They stay up all night at fashionable balls and parties and social events, and they sleep until midday. Pope is quietly but clearly mocking their completely idle and unproductive existence. They contribute nothing of value to the world. They simply entertain themselves, sleep late, and consider themselves important.

She rings the bell three times and knocks her slipper impatiently on the ground, showing she is pampered and entirely accustomed to instant obedience from servants. The pressed watch returning a silver sound refers to a fashionable type of pocket watch of the period that would chime the time musically when a small button was pressed. This is a tiny but telling detail about the luxury and wealth of Belinda's world. Every object around her is precious and refined.

Then Pope tells us her guardian Sylph prolonged her balmy (pleasant and soothing) rest. Here the Sylphs are introduced for the first time. The Sylphs are the supernatural invisible air spirits who watch over and protect Belinda throughout the poem. Pope adapted them from a philosophical tradition called Rosicrucianism, which held that each of the four elements, fire, water, earth, and air, was inhabited by a class of spirits. The Sylphs inhabit the air. In classical epic poetry, gods and goddesses intervene in human affairs to protect and guide their favourite heroes. Athena helps Odysseus, Venus helps Aeneas, Apollo helps Hector. Pope gives Belinda her own divine protector in the form of the Sylph Ariel, but instead of helping her win a war or survive great dangers, he helps her navigate the social world of one single fashionable day in London. The mock-epic parallel between divine assistance in epic warfare and supernatural assistance in aristocratic social life is perfectly constructed.

The Sylph has deliberately summoned a morning dream that hovered over Belinda's head, meaning he has arranged a specific dream with an important purpose, to deliver a warning to her about the danger she will face today. In the dream appears a Youth more glittering than a Birth-night Beau. A Birth-night Beau was a young nobleman dressed in his most spectacular and expensive clothes for a royal birthday celebration at court, which was the grandest and most glamorous social occasion of the aristocratic calendar. The dream figure is described as even more dazzling than this, establishing the visitor as something beyond ordinary human beauty and splendour.

And crucially, that even in slumber caused her cheek to glow, meaning just the sight of this handsome young man makes Belinda blush even while she is completely asleep. This detail is very important for understanding Belinda's character. Her vanity and her susceptibility to flattery and male attention operate even unconsciously. She cannot escape her own nature even in her dreams. The dream figure seems to lay his winning (charming and attractive) lips to her ear and whispers to her, or seemed to say, a phrase Pope uses deliberately to remind us that this might all be just a dream and nothing genuinely supernatural.

Part four - Ariel Flatters Belinda and Introduces the Sylphs (Lines twenty-seven to forty-six) Fairest of mortals, thou distinguish'd care Of thousand bright Inhabitants of Air! If e'er one vision touch'd thy infant thought, Of all the Nurse and all the Priest have taught; Of airy Elves by moonlight shadows seen, The silver token, and the circled green, Or virgins visited by Angel-pow'rs, With golden crowns and wreaths of heav'nly flow'rs; Hear and believe! thy own importance know, Nor bound thy narrow views to things below. Some secret truths, from learned pride conceal'd, To Maids alone and Children are reveal'd: What tho' no credit doubting Wits may give? The Fair and Innocent shall still believe. Know, then, unnumber'd Spirits round thee fly, The light Militia of the lower sky: These, tho' unseen, are ever on the wing, Hang o'er the Box, and hover round the Ring. Think what an equipage thou hast in Air, And view with scorn two Pages and a Chair.

The dream figure, who is actually the Sylph Ariel appearing in a form Belinda will find appealing, now begins his speech. He opens by calling Belinda the fairest of mortals (the most beautiful of all human beings) and the distinguished (specially chosen and set apart from all others) care of a thousand bright Inhabitants of Air. He is telling her she is not just beautiful but specially selected and watched over by a thousand supernatural beings. This is exactly the kind of address that divine figures make to chosen heroes in classical epic. You are exceptional, you are divinely favoured, great supernatural forces are devoted to your protection. The irony is that what makes Belinda specially chosen is not her virtue, her wisdom, her courage, or her service to humanity. It is simply her physical beauty and her fashionable social status. Pope is using the grandest possible epic language to honour the most superficial possible qualities.

Ariel appeals to her childhood memories of supernatural beliefs. He says if ever one vision touched thy infant (childhood) thought, of all the Nurse and all the Priest have taught. He is appealing to two sources of childhood knowledge, the fairy stories and supernatural tales told by nurses, and the religious stories and teachings told by priests. The crucial satirical point here is that Pope places the nurse and the priest side by side as equally credible sources. By treating fairy stories and religious teachings with the same level of seriousness, Pope is subtly suggesting they have the same kind of authority, which is the authority of things believed in childhood without rational examination rather than things known through genuine understanding.

He mentions specific supernatural beliefs, airy Elves seen by moonlight shadows, the silver token (coins or gifts said to be left by fairies), the circled green (circular patches of darker grass in fields, called fairy rings, said to be caused by fairies dancing) , and virgins visited by Angel-powers with golden crowns and heavenly flowers. By mixing traditional English fairy folklore with Christian religious visions of angels in the same list, Pope is quietly equating the two, suggesting both have the same status as beliefs held by the credulous and innocent.

Ariel then says hear and believe, know thy own importance, and do not bound thy narrow views to things below. On the surface this sounds like genuine spiritual guidance, encouraging Belinda to look beyond the merely physical world. But what he is actually doing is telling Belinda to feel even more special and self-important than she already does, which simply feeds her vanity rather than genuinely improving her character or her understanding.

Some secret truths, concealed from learned pride (educated and rational people who are too proud of their intellect), are revealed only to Maids alone and Children. This sounds like a compliment, implying that Belinda has a pure and open spiritual perception that sophisticated rational men cannot access. But beneath the flattery, Pope is saying she believes in these things because she is naive and unsophisticated rather than because she is genuinely spiritually perceptive. Doubting Wits (clever and critically thinking people) will not believe in Sylphs, but the Fair and Innocent, meaning the beautiful and the credulous, will believe. The Fair and Innocent sounds wonderful but is actually a polite way of saying those who are admired for their looks rather than their minds. Then comes one of the most famous phrases in the poem. Know then, unnumbered Spirits round thee fly, the light Militia of the lower sky. Describing the Sylphs as a militia (a military force or army) is the mock-epic style at work, treating Belinda's invisible supernatural guardians as though they were a grand army like those in Homer. But the word light does extraordinary double work. The Sylphs are literally light, being weightless and made of air. And they are also light in the sense of being trivial, inconsequential, and unimportant. Both meanings apply simultaneously and both are funny.

These spirits hover over the Box (a fashionable enclosed seating area at the London theatre, where the aristocracy went to see and be seen as much as to watch the performance) and the Ring (a fashionable road circling through Hyde Park where aristocrats drove their expensive carriages to display themselves to each other and to be admired) . Both of these locations are places of pure social display and fashionable performance with no genuine importance whatsoever. The Sylphs are guarding Belinda's social performances, not protecting her from genuine danger.

Think what an equipage (retinue or entourage of servants and attendants, the size of which was a crucial status symbol for aristocrats) thou hast in Air, and view with scorn two Pages and a Chair. Ariel is telling Belinda that her invisible army of Sylphs in the sky is far grander and more impressive than her two human servants and her sedan chair (a covered chair carried by servants, used as a fashionable mode of transport) . Therefore she should look down with contempt on her actual material entourage, because her supernatural one is so much more magnificent. This is a comic satirical point about the aristocratic obsession with displaying the size of one's entourage as a measure of social importance, taken to an absurd extreme.

Part five - The Origin of the Sylphs and What Women Become After Death (Lines forty-seven to sixty-six) As now your own, our beings were of old, And once inclos'd in Woman's beauteous mould; Thence, by a soft transition, we repair From earthly Vehicles to these of air. Think not, when Woman's transient breath is fled That all her vanities at once are dead; Succeeding vanities she still regards,

And tho' she plays no more, o'erlooks the cards.

Her joy in gilded Chariots, when alive, And love of Ombre, after death survive. For when the Fair in all their pride expire,

To their first Elements their Souls retire: The Sprites of fiery Termagants in Flame Mount up, and take a Salamander's name. Soft yielding minds to Water glide away, And sip, with Nymphs, their elemental Tea. The graver Prude sinks downward to a Gnome, In search of mischief still on Earth to roam.

The light Coquettes in Sylphs aloft repair, And sport and flutter in the fields of Air.

Ariel now explains where Sylphs come from, and this explanation is one of the most brilliantly comic and satirically pointed passages in the entire poem. He says our beings were of old enclosed in Woman's beauteous mould (beautiful physical body), meaning Sylphs were once women themselves. After death, by a soft transition (a gentle and easy change) , they moved from their earthly bodies to their airy spirit forms in the sky.

But crucially, he says do not think that when a woman's transient (temporary and passing) breath is fled, meaning when she dies, all her vanities (her excessive pride in her own appearance and her obsession with social fashion) die with her. They do not. She still regards succeeding vanities even after death. Though she plays no more, she overlooks the cards. This is a wonderfully specific and comic image. A dead aristocratic woman who loved card games in life no longer plays herself, but she hovers over the card table watching others play. Her joy in gilded (gold-decorated and expensive) Chariots (fashionable carriages) and her love of Ombre (a popular and fashionable card game of the period) both survive death itself. Pope is making a devastating satirical observation. These women are so completely and entirely defined by their fashionable pleasures and trivial vanities that even death cannot separate them from these habits. Their souls are made of vanity so thoroughly that vanity is all that remains of them after death. Then Ariel describes the classification system by which different women become different types of spirits. This is based on the ancient philosophical theory of the four elements, the idea that all matter is composed of fire, water, earth, and air. When fashionable women die, their souls return to whichever element best matches their dominant personality and social type during life.

The Sprites of fiery Termagants (hot-tempered, aggressive, quarrelsome women, the word Termagant meaning a violent and turbulent woman) mount up in Flame and take a

Salamander's name. A Salamander is the spirit of fire in this philosophical tradition, and the fire perfectly reflects the hot and aggressive personality of the Termagant. The connection between personality and element is direct and logical within Pope's comic system.

Soft yielding minds (gentle, accommodating, and passive women who give way easily to others) glide to Water and sip their elemental Tea with the Nymphs (water spirits) . The image of supernatural water spirits sitting around sipping tea in the afterlife is wonderfully funny because tea was the great fashionable drink of aristocratic English society, and Pope imagines these women continuing their most characteristic social habits even after death. The afterlife is simply a continuation of the same fashionable social rituals they performed in life.

The graver (more serious and solemn) Prude (an excessively proper, moralistic, and self-righteous woman who disapproves loudly of any pleasure or impropriety) sinks downward to become a Gnome (an earth spirit) and roams the earth in search of mischief. The direction matters here. The hot Termagant mounts upward into fire. The light Coquette floats upward into air. But the Prude sinks downward into the earth, because there is something heavy, dull, and downward about excessive moralising. And most importantly, this most morally serious type of woman, the most aggressively proper and virtuous of women, becomes after death a spirit dedicated to causing mischief and trouble. Pope is suggesting that behind all the self-righteous propriety and public virtue of the Prude was always a love of interfering in other people's business and causing trouble. Death simply strips away the pretence and reveals the truth that was always there.

The light Coquettes (flirtatious, charming, socially brilliant women who are skilled at attracting admiration without making genuine romantic commitments) become Sylphs and sport and flutter in the fields of Air. The lightness and airiness of Sylphs perfectly reflects the light, airy, and superficial nature of the Coquette in life. And since Belinda herself is a Coquette, charming to all, committed to none, this is why she is protected by Sylphs rather than by any of the other types of spirits.

Part Six - How Sylphs Protect Women's Virtue (Lines sixty-seven to seventy-eight) Know further yet; whoever fair and chaste

Rejects mankind, is by some Sylph embrac'd:

For Spirits, freed from mortal laws, with ease Assume what sexes and what shapes they please.

What guards the purity of melting Maids, In courtly balls, and midnight masquerades, Safe from the treacherous friend, the daring spark,

The glance by day, the whisper in the dark,

When kind occasion prompts their warm desires,

When music softens, and when dancing fires?

'Tis but their Sylph, the wise Celestials know, Tho' Honour is the word with Men below.

Ariel now explains one of the most important functions of the Sylphs, and this section contains the most satirically pointed observation in the whole of Canto One, an observation that cuts to the heart of what Pope thinks about female virtue and the society that makes such a fuss about it.

He says whoever is fair (beautiful) and chaste (sexually pure and virtuous) and rejects all men is by some Sylph embraced. The spirits, freed from mortal laws, can assume whatever sexes and shapes they please, meaning they can transform themselves to suit any situation and any need. A Sylph can take any form necessary to protect the woman in its care.

Then Ariel asks the key question. What guards the purity of melting Maids (emotionally susceptible young women who are easily moved and tempted, the word melting suggesting they are softened and weakened by feeling) in courtly balls and midnight masquerades? Masquerades were fashionable costume parties where everyone wore masks, which made them anonymous and therefore much freer and more likely to behave in ways they would not dare to behave without the disguise. He lists all the specific dangers these women face. The treacherous friend who pretends to be a supportive companion but actually creates or facilitates improper situations. The daring spark, which is a bold and confident flirtatious young man. The glance by day, which is a meaningful and loaded look exchanged in public. The whisper in the dark, which is a private seductive conversation at an evening gathering. And when kind occasion (a convenient and private opportunity) prompts their warm desires, when music softens their emotional resistance, and when dancing inflames and excites their feelings, what saves them from their own emotions and the temptations around them?

The answer is one of the most celebrated and most devastating couplets in the poem. 'Tis but their Sylph, the wise Celestials know, though Honour is the word with Men below. What men call a woman's Honour, which is her chastity, her virtue, her moral resistance to seduction, is not actually the product of her own genuine moral strength or real inner goodness. It is simply the Sylphs who protect her at the critical moment. The women themselves are not choosing virtue through the exercise of their own will and conscience. They are being saved from their own desires by external invisible supernatural forces at the last moment. Their honour is essentially not their own achievement but a kind of fortunate accident, maintained by magical intervention rather than genuine moral character.

This is Pope's most devastating satirical point about female virtue in this society. He is simultaneously sympathetic to women (he acknowledges how surrounded by temptation they were, how their environments were specifically designed to break down their resistance) and quietly devastating in his conclusion (their virtue is not real inner goodness but lucky external protection). The society that worships female chastity as a sacred virtue while also creating the conditions (balls, masquerades, dark whispers, treacherous friends) that make it almost impossible to maintain, is shown to be deeply hypocritical.

Part Seven - Women Influenced by Gnomes and the Toyshop of the Heart (Lines seventy-nine to one hundred eight) Some nymphs there are, too conscious of their face, For life predestin'd to the Gnomes' embrace.

These swell their prospects and exalt their pride, When offers are disdain'd, and love deny'd: Then gay Ideas crowd the vacant brain,

While Peers, and Dukes, and all their sweeping train, And Garters, Stars, and Coronets appear, And in soft sounds, Your Grace salutes their ear. 'T is these that early taint the female soul, Instruct the eyes of young Coquettes to roll, Teach Infant-cheeks a bidden blush to know, And little hearts to flutter at a Beau. Oft, when the world imagine women stray, The Sylphs through mystic mazes guide their way, Through all the giddy circle they pursue, And old impertinence expel by new. What tender maid but must a victim fall To one man's treat, but for another's ball?

When Florio speaks what virgin could withstand,

If gentle Damon did not squeeze her hand? With varying vanities, from every part, They shift the moving Toyshop of their heart;

Where wigs with wigs, with sword-knots sword-knots strive, Beaux banish beaux, and coaches coaches drive.

This erring mortals Levity may call;

Oh blind to truth! the Sylphs contrive it all.

Ariel now describes a different type of woman, one who is governed not by Sylphs but by Gnomes. Some nymphs are too conscious of their own face and are predestined for the Gnomes' embrace. These women are governed by the mischievous earth spirits rather than the light and charming air spirits because their vanity is of a heavier and more calculating kind. The Gnomes swell their prospects and exalt their pride, causing them to disdain all offers of love and deny all men who approach them as completely unworthy. And when these proud women reject a suitor, what happens in their minds? Gay Ideas crowd the vacant brain. The word vacant is enormously pointed. These women are not making careful and considered decisions about whom to marry. Their heads are simply empty, and the Gnomes are filling that emptiness with glittering fantasies of social grandeur. While Peers and Dukes and all their sweeping train parade through the mind, along with Garters, Stars, and Coronets, which are the specific honours and decorative badges worn by the very highest members of the English nobility, and in soft sounds, Your Grace salutes their ear. Your Grace is the formal address used when speaking to a Duke or Duchess. These vain women reject real men because they are dreaming of becoming a Duchess.

Then the Gnomes taint the female soul from an early age. They instruct the eyes of young Coquettes to roll, which was a recognised flirtatious gesture of the time. And most pointedly, they teach infant cheeks a bidden commanded, deliberate, and performed blush to know. A bidden blush is a fake blush, one done on purpose and on demand rather than arising naturally from genuine emotion or real feeling. This is one of Pope's most sharply observed details. These women are taught from childhood to fake emotional responses, to perform the outward signs of femininity rather than genuinely feel them. And little hearts to flutter at a Beau means even the heart's response to a handsome man is a trained performance rather than a real feeling. From the earliest age, women in this society are conditioned to act out the role of the charming, blushing, fluttering woman rather than to be genuine human beings with authentic emotions.

Ariel then explains that often when the world imagines women are straying from virtue, the Sylphs are actually guiding them through mystic mazes. The giddy circle of fashionable social events is navigated by the Sylphs, who manage women's attention by expelling old impertinence by replacing it with new impertinence. Women are kept out of trouble not by their own virtue but by a constant supply of new and competing distractions.

What tender maid would not fall victim to one man's treat if another man's ball did not come along at exactly the right moment to pull her attention elsewhere. Florio and Damon are generic names for fashionable young men. If Florio is speaking, his charms would overwhelm any woman, if gentle Damon did not conveniently squeeze her hand at that same moment and redirect her attention. Female virtue is maintained by coincidence and distraction, not by genuine moral choice or inner strength.

Then comes one of the most famous and most perfectly constructed phrases in the entire poem. With varying vanities from every part, they shift the moving Toyshop of their heart. A woman's heart is compared to a toy shop, a place full of bright, attractive, colourful, but fundamentally trivial objects that are constantly being replaced by newer and shinier ones. One admirer replaces another, one fashionable obsession displaces the last. There is no deep or lasting feeling anywhere in this world, only constant superficial change. Where wigs with wigs, with sword-knots, sword-knots strive, beaux banish beaux, and coaches coaches drive. The men competing for a woman's attention are reduced entirely to their fashion accessories. They are not human beings with souls, personalities, or genuine inner lives. They are wigs and sword-knots. One wig fights another wig for space in a woman's heart. This mocks both the women who reduce men to their accessories and the men who are so defined by their appearance that this reduction is possible.

When people observe women behaving this way they call it Levity. But oh blind to truth, the Sylphs contrive it all. Pope defends women against the charge of natural shallowness by blaming their fickleness on supernatural forces, while simultaneously reinforcing the observation that they are indeed shallow. The defence and the criticism are inseparable and arrive together, which is the characteristic double edge of Pope's satirical method.

Part eight - Ariel's Warning and Its Immediate Defeat (Lines one hundred nine to one hundred twenty-eight) Of these am I, who thy protection claim, A watchful sprite, and Ariel is my name. Late, as I rang'd the crystal wilds of air, In the clear Mirror of thy ruling Star I saw, alas! some dread event impend, Ere to the main this morning sun descend, But heav'n reveals not what, or how, or where:

Warn'd by the Sylph, oh pious maid, beware! This to disclose is all thy guardian can: Beware of all, but most beware of Man!

He said; when Shock, who thought she slept too long, Leap'd up, and wak'd his mistress with his tongue.

'T was then, Belinda, if report say true, Thy eyes first open'd on a Billet-doux; Wounds, Charms, and Ardors were no sooner read,

But all the Vision vanish'd from thy head. Ariel now reveals his name and delivers his warning. Of these Sylphs am I, he says, a watchful sprite, and Ariel is my name. He is named after the spirit Ariel in Shakespeare's play The Tempest, a connection that educated readers of the time would have immediately recognised.

He says he has been ranging through the crystal wilds of air, which is a beautiful description of the sky and upper atmosphere as a vast and luminous wilderness. And in the clear Mirror of thy ruling Star, referring to the astrological belief that every person's fate is written in and governed by their personal ruling star, he has seen some dread event impend before the day is over. The Mirror of the ruling Star, which is a celestial mirror in which the future can be read, is a beautifully poetic image that gives the warning a grand and cosmic authority.

But then comes the perfect parody of classical prophecy. Heaven reveals not what, or how, or where. The warning is completely useless because it contains no specific information whatsoever. Something terrible will happen today, but Ariel cannot say what it is, how it will occur, or where it will take place. In classical epic, prophets and oracles always delivered warnings that were technically true but so vague and ambiguous that they were useless to the person warned until after the event had already happened. Pope is precisely imitating this tradition for maximum comic effect.

And then the punchline and climax of the entire long dream speech. Beware of all, but most beware of Man. After all the elaborate supernatural build-up, the mystical astrological mirror, the crystal wilds of air, the solemn atmosphere of divine prophecy, the warning comes down to something entirely obvious. Be careful around men. For a beautiful young aristocratic woman about to spend a day in fashionable London society,

surrounded by flirtatious men at every social gathering, this advice is the most obvious thing imaginable. It would be perfectly obvious to any twelve-year-old girl, let alone to a sophisticated young woman of the aristocracy. The comedy of the deflation is perfect. He said, when Shock, who thought she slept too long, leapt up and waked his mistress with his tongue. Shock is Belinda's lap-dog, and the dog licking her awake immediately and completely ends the entire supernatural dream sequence. The grand solemn speech of Ariel, delivered with all the authority of astrological prophecy and supernatural knowledge, is deflated not by any counter-argument or by Belinda dismissing it, but simply by a small impatient dog. This is bathos of the most perfectly timed and most effective kind, reducing all the cosmic machinery of the Sylphs to something less powerful than a pet dog's morning routine.

The very first thing Belinda's eyes open on when she wakes is a Billet-doux (from the French, meaning a sweet love letter from an admirer) . Wounds, Charms, and Ardors (Ardors meaning burning passion and desire) were no sooner read, but all the Vision vanished from her head. Wounds, Charms, and Ardors are the three great stock clichés (overused and predictable phrases) of love letter language in the eighteenth century, the wound of Cupid's arrow meaning the pain of being in love, the charms of the beloved woman, and the burning ardour of the devoted admirer. These are not expressions of genuine individual feeling but the formulaic (following a fixed and unvarying pattern) language of fashionable courtship, recognisable to everyone as conventional rather than authentic.

And the moment Belinda reads these conventional and entirely predictable flatteries, the entire supernatural vision of Ariel's warning vanishes completely from her mind. This is the key observation about Belinda's character in Canto One, and it is the observation that everything that follows depends upon. A piece of formulaic flattery in a conventional love letter completely and instantly erases a prophetic warning delivered by a supernatural guardian. Belinda cannot be reached, cannot be warned, and cannot be protected by any means other than flattery, because flattery is quite literally the only thing her mind responds to and retains. This is her mock-epic fatal flaw, just as Achilles has his pride and Odysseus has his curiosity. Belinda's vanity is so total and so consuming that it makes her completely immune to any warning or guidance that does not take the form of admiration and flattery. And it is this vanity that will lead directly to the loss of her lock of hair.

Part Nine - The Toilette as Religious Ceremony (Lines one hundred twenty-one to one hundred forty-eight) And now, unveil'd, the Toilet stands display'd, Each silver Vase in mystic order laid. First, rob'd in white, the Nymph intent adores, With head uncover'd, the Cosmetic pow'rs. A heav'nly image in the glass appears, To that she bends, to that her eyes she rears; Th' inferior Priestess, at her altar's side, Trembling begins the sacred rites of Pride. Unnumber'd treasures ope at once, and here The various off'rings of the world appear; From each she nicely culls with curious toil, And decks the Goddess with the glitt'ring spoil. This casket India's glowing gems unlocks, And all Arabia breathes from yonder box. The Tortoise here and Elephant unite, Transformed to combs, the speckled, and the white. Here files of pins extend their shining rows, Puffs, Powders, Patches, Bibles, Billet-doux. Now awful Beauty puts on all its arms; The fair each moment rises in her charms, Repairs her smiles, awakens ev'ry grace, And calls forth all the wonders of her face; Sees by degrees a purer blush arise, And keener lightnings quicken in her eyes. The busy Sylphs surround their darling care, These set the head, and those divide the hair,

Some fold the sleeve, whilst others plait the gown: And Betty's prais'd for labours not her own. The Toilette Scene is widely considered one of the most brilliant and perfectly constructed passages in the entire poem, and it is where Pope's satire reaches its fullest and most pointed expression in Canto One. Pope describes Belinda getting dressed and applying her makeup as a complete and fully realised religious ceremony, with every element of genuine religious ritual present, including a priestess, an altar, sacred objects arranged in sacred order, a divine image to be worshipped, and sacred rites performed by devoted servants.

And now unveiled, the Toilet stands displayed. In this context, the Toilet means the dressing table and the whole ritual process of preparing oneself for public appearance, from the French word toilette. Pope says it is unveiled, which is a religious word. Sacred objects in temples are kept veiled, hidden from ordinary view, and only unveiled for specific moments of formal worship. The unveiling of the Toilet gives it the significance of the unveiling of a holy object in a sacred ceremony. Each silver Vase in mystic (sacred and ceremonially significant) order laid. The silver containers of cosmetics and perfumes are arranged with mystic precision, as though the order of their placement follows sacred ritual requirements.

First, robed in white like a priestess, the Nymph intently adores, with head uncovered, the Cosmetic powers. Belinda is dressed in her white morning robe, and Pope describes this as priestly vestments (the special clothes worn by priests and priestesses during religious ceremonies) . Her head is uncovered, which in a religious context is a gesture of reverence (deep respect) and humility before the divine. She is worshipping the Cosmetic powers as though they were deities, gods of beauty and appearance to whom she owes devotion and service.

A heavenly image in the glass appears, to that she bends, to that her eyes she rears. The heavenly image in the mirror is Belinda's own reflection. She bows to her own reflection and raises her eyes to it in an attitude of devotion and adoration. This is the central and most pointed image in the entire Toilette Scene. Belinda is literally worshipping herself. The mirror is her altar and her own face is her god. She has replaced genuine religious devotion with the worship of her own image. This is self-idolatry (the worship of oneself as a god), and Pope presents it not with harsh condemnation but with the same mock-reverent tone he has used throughout, which makes it somehow more devastating than direct criticism would be.

Betty the maid is the inferior Priestess (lower in rank, the assistant in the religious ceremony) at her altar's side, trembling as she begins the sacred rites of Pride. Pride in Christian theology is the deadliest of all the seven deadly sins, the first and worst sin, the sin of Lucifer himself, the root from which all other sins grow. Pope calling Belinda's morning beauty routine the sacred rites of Pride is one of the most brilliantly ironic phrases in the poem. Fashionable society has taken the most condemned and most serious of all moral failures and transformed it into a sacred and holy ceremony. This is the exact inversion (turning upside down) of genuine religious values.

Unnumbered treasures open at once, and the various offerings of the world appear. The beauty products and accessories on the dressing table are described as offerings, gifts brought to a temple by worshippers. And they come from all over the world. This casket unlocks India's glowing gems. All Arabia breathes from yonder box, referring to a box of perfumes from Arabia. The Tortoise and Elephant unite, transformed to combs, the speckled (tortoiseshell) and the white (ivory from elephant tusks) . Jewels from India, perfumes from Arabia, and the bodies of exotic animals from distant continents all end up on Belinda's dressing table. The entire world's resources, its trade networks, its exotic animals, its most precious materials, exist in this poem simply to decorate one vain English aristocratic woman. Global trade and imperial commerce have produced all these luxury goods and they all converge at one young woman's morning routine. This is Pope's satirical point about the sheer scale of the vanity being served by the world's resources.

Then the most famous single line in the entire Canto. Puffs, Powders, Patches, Bibles, Billet-doux. The list contains powder puffs (used to apply face powder) , face powder itself, patches (the small decorative black spots that fashionable women wore on their faces, placed strategically to draw attention to their best features), Bibles, and love letters. The shocking and comic thing about this list is the Bible. It is placed between cosmetics and love letters in exactly the same casual and equal tone, as though it is simply another item on the dressing table of similar importance and similar function. The most sacred text of the Christian religion is listed alongside powder puffs and flirtatious letters as an equally trivial object in Belinda's world. In this single line, Pope captures the entire satirical argument of the poem. In Belinda's world, God and fashion are of equal importance, which is to say neither has genuine importance, or rather that fashion has displaced God entirely while retaining the outward forms of devotion.

Now awful (awe-inspiring and commanding great reverence) Beauty puts on all its arms. This is Pope's use of the arming of the hero convention, one of the most recognisable and important scenes in classical epic poetry. In Homer's Iliad, the arming of Achilles is one of the most magnificent passages in ancient literature, describing his divine armour piece by piece in tremendous and reverential detail before he goes into battle. Pope applies this exact convention to Belinda applying her makeup. Her cosmetics and jewellery are her armour and her weapons. Her beauty is her battle equipment. The fashionable social world of Hampton Court is her battlefield. She is going to war, but the war is a tea party.

She repairs her smiles (fixes and perfects them as a soldier repairs damaged armour) , awakens every grace (brings to life each of her charming qualities as a general rouses sleeping troops) , and calls forth all the wonders of her face (summons her beauty as a commander summons his forces) . By degrees she sees a purer blush arise and keener (sharper and more intense) lightnings quicken in her eyes. The rouge she applies to her cheeks makes a blush appear that looks natural and pure even though it is entirely artificial. The eye makeup she applies makes her eyes flash with what looks like natural lightning. The artificial has been so perfectly crafted that it is indistinguishable from the natural. Everything in Belinda's world is performance and surface, and the most successful performance is the one that convincingly pretends to be genuine.

The busy Sylphs surround their darling care, some setting her head, others dividing her hair, some folding her sleeve while others plait her gown. Just as the gods assist their chosen heroes in preparing for battle in classical epic, with goddesses adjusting armour and divine hands guiding weapons, the Sylphs assist Belinda in preparing for her social day. The parallel between divine assistance in genuine epic warfare and supernatural assistance in aristocratic morning dressing is the mock-epic technique carried to its most precise and most perfectly sustained point.

And Betty's praised for labours not her own. This final line of the Canto is the perfect conclusion to everything that has been established in the poem so far. Betty the maid receives all the praise and social credit for making Belinda look beautiful and perfectly turned out, because she is the visible human servant who appears to have done the work. But the actual work was done by the invisible Sylphs, who will never receive any credit because no one can see them or knows they exist. In this world of surfaces and appearances, credit and reality are completely and routinely disconnected from each other. People receive praise for things they did not do. The true causes of things remain hidden and unacknowledged. Belinda worships a reflection that has been arranged and perfected by supernatural forces she is entirely unaware of. Betty is praised for beauty she did not create. And the poem will go on to show how this world of pure appearance and performance, where nothing is quite what it seems and everything is surface, eventually produces a crisis when a lock of hair is stolen and the fragile but elaborate social performance underneath is threatened with exposure and collapse.