Anti-Thelyphthora

by William Cowper (1731-1800)

Airy Del Casteo was as bold a knightAs ever earned a lady's love in fight.Many he sought, but one above the restHis tender heart victoriously impressed:In fairy land was born the matchless dame,The land of dreams, Hypothesis her name.There Fancy nursed her in ideal bowers,And laid her soft in amaranthine flowers;Delighted with her babe, the enchantress smiled,And graced with all her gifts the favourite child.Her wooed Sir Airy, by meandering streams,In daily musings and in nightly dreams ;With, all the flowers he found, he wove in hasteWreaths for her brow, and girdles for her waist;His time, his talents, and his ceaseless careAll consecrated to adorn the fair;No pastime but with her he deigned to take,And,—if he studied, studied for her sake.And, for Hypothesis was somewhat long,Nor soft enough to suit a lover's tongue,He called her Posy, with an amorous art,And graved it on a gem, and wore it next his heart.But she, inconstant as the beams that playOn rippling waters in an April day,With, many a freakish trick deceived his pains,To pathless wilds and unfrequented plainsEnticed him from his oaths of knighthood far,Forgetful of the glorious toils of war.'Tis thus the tenderness that love inspiresToo oft betrays the votaries of his fires;Borne far away on elevated wings,They sport like wanton doves in airy rings,And laws and duties are neglected things.Nor he alone addressed the wayward fair;Full many a knight had been entangled there.But still, whoever wooed her or embraced,On every mind some mighty spell she cast,Some she would teach, (for she was wondrous wise,And made her dupes see all things with her eyes,)That forms material, whatsoe'er we dream,Are not at all, or are not what they seem;That substances and modes of every kindAre mere impressions on the passive mind;And he that splits his cranium, breaks at mostA fancied head against a fancied post: Others, that earth, ere sin had drowned it all,Was smooth and even as an ivory ball;That all the various beauties we survey,Hills, valleys, rivers, and the boundless sea, Are but departures from the first design,Effects of punishment and wrath divine.She tutored some in Daedalus's art,And promised they should act his wildgoose partOn waxen pinions soar without a fall,Swift as the proudest gander of them all.But fate reserved Sir Airy to maintain The wildest project of her teeming brain; That wedlock is not rigorous as supposed, But man, within a wider pale enclosed. May rove at will, where appetite shall lead, Free as the lordly bull that ranges o'er the mead; That forms and rites are tricks of human law. As idle as the chattering of a daw; That lewd incontinence and lawless rape, Are marriage in its true and proper shape; That man by faith and truth is made a slave, The ring a bauble, and the priest a knave." Fair fall the deed!" the knight exulting cried, " Now is the time to make the maid a bride",'Twas on the noon of an autumnal day,October hight, but mild and fair as May;When scarlet fruits the russet hedge adorn,And floating films envelop every thorn;When gently, as in June, the rivers glide,And only miss the flowers that graced their side;The linnet twittered out his parting song,With many a chorister the woods among;On southern banks the ruminating sheepLay snug and warm ;—'twas summer's farewell peepPropitious to his fond intent there grew,An arbour near at hand of thickest yew,With many a boxen bush, close clipt between,And philyrea of a gilded green.But what old Chaucer's merry page befits,The chaster muse of modern days omits.Suffice it then in decent terms to say,She saw,—and turned her rosy chock away.Small need of prayer-book or of priest, I ween,'Where parties are agreed, retired the scene,Occasion prompt, and appetite so keen.Hypothesis (for with such magic powerFancy endued her in her natal hour,)From many a steaming lake and reeking bog,Bade rise in haste a dank and drizzling fog,That curtained round the scene where they reposed,And wood and lawn in dusky folds enclosed.Fear seized the trembling sex; in every groveThey wept the wrongs of honourable love,In vain, they cried, are hymeneal rites,Vain our delusive hope of constant knights;The marriage bond has lost its power to bind,And flutters loose the sport of every wind.The bride, while yet her bride's attire is on,Shall mourn her absent lord, for he is gone,Satiate of her, and weary of the same,To distant wilds in quest of other game.Ye fair Circassians! all your lutes employ,Seraglios sing, and harems dance for joy!For British nymphs whose lords were lately true,Nymphs quite as fair, and happier once than you,Honour, esteem, and confidence forgot,Feel all the meanness of your slavish lot.Oh curst Hypothesis! your hellish artsSeduce our husbands, and estrange their hearts.—Will none arise? no knight who still retains The blood of ancient worthies in his veins,To assert the charter of the chaste and fair,Find out her treacherous heart, and plant a dagger there!A knight—(can he that serves the fair do less?)Starts at the call of beauty in distress;And he that does not, whatsoe'er occurs,Is recreant, and unworthy of his spurs.^[1]Full many a champion, bent on hardy deed,Called for his arms and for his princely steed.So swarmed the Sabine youth, and grasped the. shield,"When Eoman rapine, by no laws withheld,Lest Home should end with her first founders' lives,Made half their maids, sans ceremony, wives.But not the mitred few, the soul their charge,They left these bodily concerns at large;Forms or no forms, pluralities or pairs,Right reverend sirs ! was no concern of theirs.The rest, alert and active as becameA. courteous knighthood, caught the generous flame;One was accoutred when the cry began,Knight of the Silver Moon, Sir Marmadan.^[2]Oft as his patroness, who rules the night,Hangs out her lamp in yon cerulean height,His vow was, (and he well performed his vow,)Armed at all points, with terror on his brow,To judge the land, to purge atrocious crimes,And quell the shapeless monsters of the times.For cedars famed, fair Lebanon suppliedThe well-poised lance that quivered at his side;Truth armed it with a point so keen, so just,No spell or charm was proof against the thrust.He couched it firm upon his puissant thigh,And darting through his helm an eagle's eye,^[3][4]On all the wings of chivalry advancedTo where the fond Sir Airy lay entranced.He dreamt not of a foe, or if his fearForetold one, dreamt not of a foe so near.Far other dreams his feverish mind employed,Of rights restored, variety enjoyed;Of virtue too well fenced to fear a flaw;Vice passing current by the stamp of law;Large population on a liberal plan,And woman trembling at the foot of man;How simple wedlock fornication works,And Christians marrying may convert the Turks.The trumpet now spoke Marmadan at hand. A trumpet that was heard through all the land. His high-bred steed expands his nostrils wide, And snorts aloud to cast the mist aside ; But he the virtues of his lance to show, Struck thrice the point upon his saddle bow; Three sparks ensued that chased it all away, And set the unseemly pair in open day. " To horse," he cried, " or, by this good right hand And better spear, I smite you where you stand."Sir Airy, not a whit dismayed or scared, Buckled his helm, and to his steed repaired; Whose bridle, while he cropped the grass below, Hung not far off upon a myrtle bough.He mounts at once,—such confidence infusedThe insidious witch that had his wits abused;And she, regardless of her softer kind,Seized fast the saddle and sprang up behind." Oh shame to knighthood!" his assailant cried;" Oh shame!" ten thousand echoing nymphs replied.Placed with advantage at his listening ear,She whispered still that he had nought to fear;That he was cased in such enchanted steel,So polished and compact from head to heel," Come ten, come twenty, should an army callThee to the field, thou shouldst withstand them all."" By Dian's beams," Sir Marmadan exclaimed," The guiltless still are ever least ashamed!But guard thee well, expect no feign'd attack;And guard beside the sorceress at thy back!"He spoke indignant, and his spurs applied, Though little need, to his good palfrey's side: The barb sprang forward, and his lord, whose force Was equal to the swiftness of his horse, Hushed with a whirlwind's fury on the foe, And, Phinehas1 like, transfixed them at a blow.Then sang the married and the maiden throng, Love graced the theme, and harmony the song; The Fauns and Satyrs, a lascivious race, Shrieked at the sight, and, conscious, fled the place: And Hymen, trimming his dim torch anew, His snowy mantle o'er his shoulders threw; He turned, and viewed it oft on every side, And reddening with a just and generous pride, Blessed the glad beams of that propitious day, The spot he loathed so much for ever cleansed away.

Original references

1. When a knight was degraded, his spurs were chopped off.—C
2. Monthly Keriew for October.—C.
3. On this line, Southey remarks—"This is one of the instances in which Cowper's remembrance of a passage in Milton has betrayed him into an inexact use of a word in it:—

   "He through the armed files
   Darts his experienced eye."

   Pas. Lost, i. 569.

4. Rev. Robert Aris Willmott said in his 1866 collection of Cowper's works, "I am quite unable to discover the incorrectness specified. The knight darting his eye through the bars of his helmet, is surely in harmony with the manners of chivalry; and the expression is clear and distinct."