And mistress of herself, though china fall.

This line comes from Alexander Pope’s mock-epic poem *The Rape of the Lock* (1712; revised 1714), a satirical treatment of a real society quarrel sparked when Lord Petre cut a lock of Arabella Fermor’s hair. Pope uses the elevated style of epic poetry to depict the trivial anxieties and rituals of fashionable eighteenth-century “beau monde” life—tea tables, card games, cosmetics, and social reputation. The phrase “though china fall” evokes the fragile porcelain prized in such circles and, more broadly, the small domestic disasters that could feel momentous in polite society. The line characterizes Belinda’s poised self-command amid superficial commotion.

Pope’s line is both praise and gentle mockery. On the surface, it commends a woman’s composure—she remains “mistress of herself,” self-possessed and emotionally controlled, even when something breaks. But the object that “fall[s]” is “china,” a symbol of fashionable luxury and delicate domestic order; treating its breakage as a test of heroic steadiness exposes the pettiness of the world Pope depicts. The humor lies in the disproportion: epic dignity is applied to a minor mishap. The line thus crystallizes the poem’s larger satire on a culture that prizes appearances, refinement, and “good breeding” while inflating trivial events into crises of honor.