古代(那些我们认为明智的时代)留下了关于妇女崛起的长长的记录，什么道德教导了它，什么寓言隐藏了它，是哪个作者写的，那个作者是如何写的，我唱的都是这些。在希腊，人们编造了这个故事(在希腊，人们认为女人可能很虚弱);你们这些现代美女!诗人用他最柔软的笔在那里画着，他梦见了你;他警告过你们，你们这些放荡的笔要小心，上天是多么关心为美人辩护。这是赫西奥德的案子;他写寓言;有人深思熟虑，有人胡思乱想;也许是哪一种，随女士们的便;我挥手示意比赛开始。很久以前(无论何时何地，低微的天地还没有挤满人类)，有一个普罗米修斯，从天上冒出来，(我们的作者的歌可以见证)住在人间:他雕刻草皮，塑造一个男子汉的身躯，从朱庇特那里偷走了他那生气勃勃的火焰。 The sly contrivance o'er Olympus ran, When thus the Monarch of the Stars began. O vers'd in arts! whose daring thoughts aspire, To kindle clay with never-dying fire! Enjoy thy glory past, that gift was thine; The next thy creature meets, be fairly mine: And such a gift, a vengence so design'd, As suits the counsel of a God to find; A pleasing bosom-cheat, a specious ill, Which felt the curse, yet covets still to feel. He said, and Vulcan straight the Sire commands, To temper mortar with Etherial hands; In such a shape to mould a rising fair; As virgin goddesses are proud to wear; To make her eyes with diamond-water shine, And form her organs for a voice divine 'Twas thus the Sire ordain'd; the Power obey'd; And work'd, and wonder'd at the work he made; The fairest, softest, sweetest frame beneath, Now made to seem, now more than seem to breathe. As Vulcan ends, the cheerful Queen of Charms Clasp'd the new-panting creature in her arms: From that embrace a fine complexion spread, Where mingled whiteness glow'd with softer red. Then in a kiss she breath'd her various arts, Of triffling prettily with wounded hearts; A mind for love, but still a changing mind; The lisp affected, and the glance design'd The sweet confusing blush, the secret wink, The gentle swimming walk, the courteous sink; The stare for strangeness fit, for scorn the frown; For decent yielding, looks declining down; The practis'd languish, where well-feign'd desire Would its own melting in a mutual fire; Gay smiles to comfort; April showers to move; And all the nature, all the art of love. Gold scepter'd Juno next exalts the fair; Her touch endows her with imperious air, Self-valuing fancy, highly-crested pride, Strong soverign will, and some desire to chide; For which an eloquence, that aims to vex, With native tropes of anger, arms the sex. Minerva, skillful goddess, train'd the maid To twirle the spindle by the twisting thread; To fix the loom, instruct the reeds to part, Cross the long weft, and close the web with art, A useful gift; but what profuse expense, What world of fashions, took its rise from hence! Young Hermes next, a close contriving god, Her brows encircled with his serpent rod; Then plots and fair excuses fill'd her brain, The views of breaking amorous vows for gain; The price of favours; the designing arts That aim at riches in contempt of hearts; And, for a comfort in the marriage life, The little pilfering temper of a wife. Full on the fair his beams Apollo flung, And fond persuasion tipp'd her easy tongue; He gave her words, where oily flattery lays The pleasing colours of the art of praise;, And wit, to scandal equisitely prone Which frets another's spleen to cure its own. Those sacred Virgins1 whom the bards revere Tun'd all her voice, and shed a sweetness there, To make her sense with double charms abound, Or make her lively nonsense please by sound. To dress the maid, the decent Graces brought A robe in all the dies of beauty wrought, And plac'd their boxes o'er a rich brocade, Where pictured Loves on every cover play'd; Then spread those implements that Vulcan's art Had frame'd to merit Cytherea's heart; The wire to curl, the close indented comb To call the locks, that lightly wander, home; And chief, the mirror,where the ravish'd maid Beholds and loves her own reflected shade. Fair Flora lent her stores; the purpled Hours Confin'd her tresses with a wreath of flowers; Within the wreath arose a radiant crown; A veil pellucid hung depending down; Back roll'd her azure veil with surpent fold, The pursled border deck'd the floor with gold. Her robe (which closely by the girdle brac'd Reveal'd the beauties of a slender waist) Flow'd to the feet,