Then all her Maids of Honour tried in turn,
  And for a Prince’s kiss in envy burn;
  By sad experience taught, their hopes they miss’d,
  And mourn’d a Prince that never could be kiss’d.

  In silent tears the Queen confess’d her grief,
  Till kindest Flattery came to her relief. 
  Her maids, as each one takes him in her arms,
  Expatiate freely o’er his world of charms—­
  His eyes, lips, mouth—­his forehead was divine—­
  And for the nose—­they called it Aquiline—­
  Declared that Caesar, who the world subdued,
  Had such a one—­just of that longitude—­
  That Kings like him compelled folks to adore them,
  And drove the short-nos’d sons of men before them—­
  That length of nose portended length of days,
  And was a great advantage many ways—­
  To mourn the gifts of Providence was wrong—­
  Besides, the Nose was not so very long.—­

  These arguments in part her grief redrest,
  A mother’s partial fondness did the rest;
  And Time, that all things reconciles by use,
  Did in her notions such a change produce. 
  That, as she views her babe, with favour blind,
  She thinks him handsomest of human kind.

  Meantime in spite of his disfigured face,
  Dorus (for so he’s call’d) grew up apace;
  In fair proportion all his features rose,
  Save that most prominent of all—­his Nose. 
  That Nose, which in the infant could annoy,
  Was grown a perfect nuisance in the boy. 
  Whene’er he walk’d, his Handle went before,
  Long as the snout of Ferret, or Wild Boar;
  Or like the Staff, with which on holy day
  The solemn Parish Beadle clears the way.

  But from their cradle to their latest year,
  How seldom Truth can reach a Prince’s ear! 
  To keep th’ unwelcome knowledge out of view,
  His lesson well each flattering Courtier knew;
  The hoary Tutor, and the wily Page,
  Unmeet confederates! dupe his tender age. 
  They taught him that whate’er vain mortals boast—­
  Strength, Courage, Wisdom—­all they value most—­
  Whate’er on human life distinction throws—­
  Was all comprised—­in what?—­a length of nose! 
  Ev’n Virtue’s self (by some suppos’d chief merit)
  In short-nosed folks was only want of spirit.

  While doctrines such as these his guides instill’d,
  His Palace was with long-nosed people fill’d;
  At Court, whoever ventured to appear
  With a short nose, was treated with a sneer. 
  Each courtier’s wife, that with a babe is blest,
  Moulds its young nose betimes; and does her best,
  By pulls, and hauls, and twists, and lugs and pinches,
  To stretch it to the standard of the Prince’s.