The art of love In Imitation of Ovid De Arte Amandi. With a Preface containing the Life of Ovid. By W. King |
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| I. |
| II. |
| III. |
| IV. |
| V. |
| VI. |
| VII. |
| VIII. |
| IX. |
| X. |
Part X.
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| XI. |
| XII. |
| XIII. |
| XIV. |
 | The art of love |  |
115
X. Part X.
At first the Stars, the Air, the Earth and Deep
Lay all confus'd in One unorder'd Heap.
Till Love Eternal did each Being strike
With Voice Divine to march and seek its Like.
Then Seeds of Heav'ns, then Air of vaporous Sound,
Then fertile Earth circled with Waters round;
On which the Bird, the Beast, the Fish might move,
All center'd in that universal Love.
Then Man was fram'd with Soul of Godlike Ray,
And had a nobler Share of Love than They.
To him was Woman crown'd with Virtue given,
The most immediate Work and Care of Heaven.
Lay all confus'd in One unorder'd Heap.
Till Love Eternal did each Being strike
With Voice Divine to march and seek its Like.
116
Then fertile Earth circled with Waters round;
On which the Bird, the Beast, the Fish might move,
All center'd in that universal Love.
Then Man was fram'd with Soul of Godlike Ray,
And had a nobler Share of Love than They.
To him was Woman crown'd with Virtue given,
The most immediate Work and Care of Heaven.
Whilst thus my darling Thoughts in Raptures sung,
Apollo to my sight in Vision sprung.
His Lyre with golden Strings his Touch commands,
And Wreaths of Laurel flourish in his Hands.
Says he, “You Bard that of Love's Precepts treat,
“Your Art at Delphos you will best complete.
“There's a short Maxim prais'd when understood,
“Useful in Practice, and divinely good,
“Let each Man know himself: Strive to excel:
“The Pleasure of the Blest is doing well.
“'Tis Wisdom to display the ruling Grace.
“Some Men are happy in a charming Face:
“Know it, but be not vain. Some Manly show
“By the exploded Gun and nervous Bow.
“There let them prove their Skill, perhaps some Heart
“May find that ev'ry Shot is Cupid's Dart.
“The prudent Lover, if his Talent lies
“In Eloquence, e'nt talkative, but wise;
“So mixes Words delicious to the Ear,
“That all must be persuaded who can hear.
“He that can sing, let him with pleasing Sound,
“Tho' 'tis an Air that is not mortal, Wound.
“Let not a Poet my own Art refuse:
“I'll come and bring Assistance to his Muse.
Apollo to my sight in Vision sprung.
His Lyre with golden Strings his Touch commands,
And Wreaths of Laurel flourish in his Hands.
117
“Your Art at Delphos you will best complete.
“There's a short Maxim prais'd when understood,
“Useful in Practice, and divinely good,
“Let each Man know himself: Strive to excel:
“The Pleasure of the Blest is doing well.
“'Tis Wisdom to display the ruling Grace.
“Some Men are happy in a charming Face:
“Know it, but be not vain. Some Manly show
“By the exploded Gun and nervous Bow.
“There let them prove their Skill, perhaps some Heart
“May find that ev'ry Shot is Cupid's Dart.
118
“In Eloquence, e'nt talkative, but wise;
“So mixes Words delicious to the Ear,
“That all must be persuaded who can hear.
“He that can sing, let him with pleasing Sound,
“Tho' 'tis an Air that is not mortal, Wound.
“Let not a Poet my own Art refuse:
“I'll come and bring Assistance to his Muse.
But never by ill means your Fortune push,
Nor raise your Credit by another's Blush.
The secret Rites of Ceres none profane,
Nor tell what Gods in Samo-Thracia reign.
'Tis Virtue by grave Silence to conceal
What Talk without Discretion would reveal.
For Fault like this now Tantalus does lie
In midst of Fruits and Water, starv'd and dry.
But Cytherea's Modesty requires
Most Care to cover all her lambent Fires.
Nor raise your Credit by another's Blush.
The secret Rites of Ceres none profane,
Nor tell what Gods in Samo-Thracia reign.
119
What Talk without Discretion would reveal.
For Fault like this now Tantalus does lie
In midst of Fruits and Water, starv'd and dry.
But Cytherea's Modesty requires
Most Care to cover all her lambent Fires.
Love has a pleasing Turn makes that seem best,
Of which our lawful Wishes are possest.
Andromeda, of Lybick Hue and Blood,
Was chain'd a Prey to Monster's of the Flood:
Wing'd Perseus saw her Beauty thro' that Cloud.
Andromache had large Majestick Charms;
Therefore was fittest Grace to Godlike Hector's Arms.
Beauties in smaller Airs bear like Commands,
And wondrous Magick acts by slend'rest Wands.
Some like Cybele bear a Mother's Sway,
Whilst Infant Gods and Heroines obey.
Some rule like Stars by Guidance of their Eyes,
And others please when like Minerva wife.
Love will from Heav'n, Art, Nature, Fancy raise
Something that may exalt its Consort's Praise.
Of which our lawful Wishes are possest.
Andromeda, of Lybick Hue and Blood,
Was chain'd a Prey to Monster's of the Flood:
Wing'd Perseus saw her Beauty thro' that Cloud.
120
Therefore was fittest Grace to Godlike Hector's Arms.
Beauties in smaller Airs bear like Commands,
And wondrous Magick acts by slend'rest Wands.
Some like Cybele bear a Mother's Sway,
Whilst Infant Gods and Heroines obey.
Some rule like Stars by Guidance of their Eyes,
And others please when like Minerva wife.
Love will from Heav'n, Art, Nature, Fancy raise
Something that may exalt its Consort's Praise.
121
There will be little Jealousies,
By which Love's Art its Subjects tries.
They think it languishes with Rest,
But rises like the Palm, opprest.
And as too much Prosperity
Often makes way for Luxury,
Till we by turn of Fortune taught
Have Wisdom by Experience bought:
So when the hoary Ashes grow
Around Love's Coals, 'tis time to blow:
And then its Crastiness is shown
To raise your Cares to hide its own;
And have you by a Rival crost,
Only in hopes you mayn't be lost.
Sometimes they say that you are faulty,
And that they know where you were naughty;
And then perhaps your Eyes they'd tear,
Or else dilacerate your Hair,
Not so much for Revenge as Fear.
But she perhaps too far may run,
And do what she wou'd have you shun,
Of which there's a Poetick Story
That, if you please I'll lay before you.
Old Juno made her Jove comply
For fear, not asking when or why,
Unto a certain sort of matter,
Marrying her Son unto his Daughter:
And so to bed the Couple went,
Not with their own, but Friends Consent.
This Vulcan was a Smith, they tell us,
That first invented Tongs and Bellows:
For Breath and Fingers did their Works;
(We'd Fingers long before we'd Forks.)
Which made his Hands both hard and brawny,
When wash'd, of Colour Orange-Tawny.
His whole Complexion was a Sallow,
Where Black had not destroy'd the Yellow.
One Foot was clump'd, which was the stronger,
T'other was spiny, tho' much longer;
So both to the Proportion come
Of the Forefinger and the Thumb.
In short the whole of him was nasty,
Ill-natur'd, vain, imperious, hasty:
Deformity alike took place
Both in his Manners and his Face.
Venus had perfect Shape and Size;
But then she was not over wise:
For sometimes she her Knee is Crimping
To imitate th'Old Man in Limping.
Sometimes his dirty Paws she scorns,
Whilst her fair Fingers show his Horns.
But Mars the Bully of the Place is,
The chiefest Spark in her good Graces.
At first they're shy, at last grow bolder,
And Conjugal Affection colder.
They car'd not what was said or done,
Till Impudence defy'd the Sun.
Vulcan was told of this; Quoth he,
Is there such Roguery! I'll see!
He then an Iron Net prepar'd,
Which he to the Bed's Tester rear'd;
Which, when a Pully gave a Snap,
Would fall, and make a Cuckold's Trap.
All those he plac'd in the Best Room,
Then feign'd that he must go from home;
For he at Lemnos Forges had,
And none but he to mind the Trade.
By which Love's Art its Subjects tries.
They think it languishes with Rest,
But rises like the Palm, opprest.
And as too much Prosperity
Often makes way for Luxury,
Till we by turn of Fortune taught
Have Wisdom by Experience bought:
So when the hoary Ashes grow
Around Love's Coals, 'tis time to blow:
And then its Crastiness is shown
To raise your Cares to hide its own;
122
Only in hopes you mayn't be lost.
Sometimes they say that you are faulty,
And that they know where you were naughty;
And then perhaps your Eyes they'd tear,
Or else dilacerate your Hair,
Not so much for Revenge as Fear.
But she perhaps too far may run,
And do what she wou'd have you shun,
Of which there's a Poetick Story
That, if you please I'll lay before you.
123
For fear, not asking when or why,
Unto a certain sort of matter,
Marrying her Son unto his Daughter:
And so to bed the Couple went,
Not with their own, but Friends Consent.
This Vulcan was a Smith, they tell us,
That first invented Tongs and Bellows:
For Breath and Fingers did their Works;
(We'd Fingers long before we'd Forks.)
Which made his Hands both hard and brawny,
When wash'd, of Colour Orange-Tawny.
124
Where Black had not destroy'd the Yellow.
One Foot was clump'd, which was the stronger,
T'other was spiny, tho' much longer;
So both to the Proportion come
Of the Forefinger and the Thumb.
In short the whole of him was nasty,
Ill-natur'd, vain, imperious, hasty:
Deformity alike took place
Both in his Manners and his Face.
125
But then she was not over wise:
For sometimes she her Knee is Crimping
To imitate th'Old Man in Limping.
Sometimes his dirty Paws she scorns,
Whilst her fair Fingers show his Horns.
But Mars the Bully of the Place is,
The chiefest Spark in her good Graces.
At first they're shy, at last grow bolder,
And Conjugal Affection colder.
They car'd not what was said or done,
Till Impudence defy'd the Sun.
Vulcan was told of this; Quoth he,
Is there such Roguery! I'll see!
126
Which he to the Bed's Tester rear'd;
Which, when a Pully gave a Snap,
Would fall, and make a Cuckold's Trap.
All those he plac'd in the Best Room,
Then feign'd that he must go from home;
For he at Lemnos Forges had,
And none but he to mind the Trade.
Love was too eager to beware
Of falling into any Snare.
They went to bed, and so were caught,
And then they of Repentance thought.
The Show being ready to begin,
Vulcan would call his Neighbours in.
Jove should be there that does make bold
With Juno, that notorious Scold.
Neptune first Bargeman on the Water,
Thetis the Oyster-woman's Daughter.
Pluto that Chimny-sweeping Sloven,
With Proserpine hot from her Oven;
And Mercury that's sharp and cunning
In stealing Customs and in Running;
And Dy the Midwife, tho' a Virgin;
And Æsculapius the Surgeon;
Apollo, who might be Physician,
Or serve 'em else for a Musician.
The Piper Pan to play her up,
And Bacchus with his Chirping Cup;
And Hercules should bring his Club in
To give the Rogue a lusty Drubbing;
And all the Cupids should be by
To see their Mother's Infamy.
One Momus cry'd, “You're hugely pleas'd;
“I hope your Mind will soon be eas'd:
“For when so publickly you find it,
“People you know will little mind it.
“They love to tell what no one knows,
“And they themselves only suppose.
“T'en't every one that can afford
“To be a Cuckold on Record;
“Nor should he be a Cuckold styl'd,
“That once or so has been beguil'd;
“Unless he makes it Demonstration,
“Then puts it in some Proclamation
“With general Voice of all the Nation.
The Company were come, when Vulcan hopping
And for his Key in Left-side Pocket groping,
Cries, 'Tis but opening of that Door
To prove my self a Cuckold, her a Whore.
Of falling into any Snare.
They went to bed, and so were caught,
And then they of Repentance thought.
The Show being ready to begin,
Vulcan would call his Neighbours in.
127
With Juno, that notorious Scold.
Neptune first Bargeman on the Water,
Thetis the Oyster-woman's Daughter.
Pluto that Chimny-sweeping Sloven,
With Proserpine hot from her Oven;
And Mercury that's sharp and cunning
In stealing Customs and in Running;
And Dy the Midwife, tho' a Virgin;
And Æsculapius the Surgeon;
Apollo, who might be Physician,
Or serve 'em else for a Musician.
The Piper Pan to play her up,
And Bacchus with his Chirping Cup;
And Hercules should bring his Club in
To give the Rogue a lusty Drubbing;
And all the Cupids should be by
To see their Mother's Infamy.
128
“I hope your Mind will soon be eas'd:
“For when so publickly you find it,
“People you know will little mind it.
“They love to tell what no one knows,
“And they themselves only suppose.
“T'en't every one that can afford
“To be a Cuckold on Record;
“Nor should he be a Cuckold styl'd,
“That once or so has been beguil'd;
“Unless he makes it Demonstration,
“Then puts it in some Proclamation
“With general Voice of all the Nation.
The Company were come, when Vulcan hopping
And for his Key in Left-side Pocket groping,
Cries, 'Tis but opening of that Door
To prove my self a Cuckold, her a Whore.
129
They all desir'd his Leave that they might go;
They were not curious of so vile a Show:
Persons concern'd might one another see,
And they'd believe since Witnesses were Three.
And they, thus prov'd to be such foolish Elves,
Might Hear, Try, Judge, and e'en condemn themselves.
Discretion covers that which it would blame,
Until some secret Blush and hidden Shame
Have cur'd the Fault without the Noise of Fame.
They were not curious of so vile a Show:
Persons concern'd might one another see,
And they'd believe since Witnesses were Three.
And they, thus prov'd to be such foolish Elves,
Might Hear, Try, Judge, and e'en condemn themselves.
Discretion covers that which it would blame,
Until some secret Blush and hidden Shame
Have cur'd the Fault without the Noise of Fame.
130
The Work is done, and now let Ovid have
Some Gratitude attending on his Grave;
Th'aspiring Palm, the verdant Laurel strow,
And Sweets of Myrtle Wreaths around it throw.
In Physick's Art as Podalirius skill'd,
Nestor in Court, Achilles in the Field;
As Ajax had in single Combat Force,
And as Automedon best rul'd the Horse;
As Chalcas vers'd in Prophecies from Jove;
So Ovid has the Mastership of Love.
The Poet's Honour will be much the less
Than that which by his means you may possess
In choice of Beauty's lasting Happiness.
But when the Amazonian quits the Field,
Let this be wrote on the triumphant Shield,
That she by Ovid's Art was brought to yield.
Some Gratitude attending on his Grave;
Th'aspiring Palm, the verdant Laurel strow,
And Sweets of Myrtle Wreaths around it throw.
In Physick's Art as Podalirius skill'd,
Nestor in Court, Achilles in the Field;
As Ajax had in single Combat Force,
And as Automedon best rul'd the Horse;
As Chalcas vers'd in Prophecies from Jove;
So Ovid has the Mastership of Love.
The Poet's Honour will be much the less
Than that which by his means you may possess
In choice of Beauty's lasting Happiness.
131
Let this be wrote on the triumphant Shield,
That she by Ovid's Art was brought to yield.
When Ovid's Thoughts in British Style you see,
Which mayn't so sounding as the Roman be;
Yet then Admittance grant: 'Tis Fame to me.
Which mayn't so sounding as the Roman be;
Yet then Admittance grant: 'Tis Fame to me.
| The art of love | |