University of Virginia Library

Book the Second.

But now the Ceremonial Part is done,
And the Fair Couple are for ever One;
Their eager Wishes meet, and burn to prove
The future Joys of unexperienc'd Love.
All Offices now past, which Forms require,
With cheerful Hearts the feasted Friends retire.
Bacchus himself, well sated with the Store,
Scarce carries his enormous Paunch before;
Scornful he views th'inverted Cups around,
And draws the fuming Vapours from the Ground.
The weary'd Youth's more slowly now advance,
To join the Virgins in the winding Dance,
While the soft Music measures out the Bound,
And works the trembling Feet to ev'ry Sound.
Then the great Master, to the speaking Strings,
The Sweets of Matrimonial Pleasure sings,
Kisses, and Smiles, and the preluding Toys,
And last, the Product of substantial Joys,
The beauteous Female Births, and lovely graceful Boys.
Again he turns the Song, and Pallas blames,
And rash Diana, foolish, Maiden Names,
But He, Thee Venus, sings in kinder Airs,
Propitious Goddess, to our mortal Pray'rs;
Source of all Joy, and Easer of all Grief;
Thou giv'st the Thunderer himself Relief.
Thee, beauteous Paris, he in Raptures prais'd,
And, high above the Stars, thy Merit rais'd;
Who, to fair Venus more prevailing Eyes,
Impartially adjudg'd the Golden Prize,
Tho' Pallas frown'd, and Juno in a Storm,
Roughen'd her Features to a scornful Form.
Nor fear'd he Phœbus, Anger to provoke,
And give his Passion a severer Stroke;
Who on a Boy his barren Love employ'd,
And the dear Object, which he lov'd, destroy'd.
The Majesty of Heav'n himself, great Jove,
He ridicul'd for his unlucky Love,
All Flames he blam'd, that far from Nature rove,
In idle Essays of unfruitful Love;
But prais'd the Kisses, which alternate please,
And both the Giver and Receiver ease.
The Matrons smil'd, and ancient Sires severe,
Skrew'd a divided Laugh, and flouting Leer.
But see! the failing Day to Night resigns,
And Venus Star, to Venus Rites inclines:
Away then Modesty, nor dare appear
With thy false Scruples, and fantastic Fear;
But come, Thou Hymen, with thy sacred Light,
The little Train of smiling Loves excite:
Thee too, Saturnia, now the Pair require,
In Circles wave thy Torch, at their Desire,
Emblem of constant Love, and still succeeding Fire.
Ye Mothers also, who these Joys have known,
Assist me, and unloose the Virgin Zone;
With me, to cheer the fearful Maiden strive,
And tell her, she may see the Morn alive;
For now the Spouse, impatient for Delight,
Warms with the Thought, and struggles for the Fight.
‘Let us engage, he crys, nor longer stay,
‘And waste the Time of Love, in dull Delay;
‘No more, my Friends, th'expected Lists deny,
‘Nor enviously resist a Bliss so nigh:
‘Why should we not the happy Combat prove,
‘Free, as we are, and give a Loose to Love.
Hold, furious Youth—Better thy Heat asswage,
And moderate, a while, thy eager Rage;
For if the Genial Sport you now compleat,
Full of the Fumes of undigested Meat,
A thin, diluted Substance shalt thou place,
Too weak a Basis for a Manly Grace,
To rise in Figure just, and dignify thy Race.
Advis'd, defer the Work, till Time produce
A more mature, and well-concocted Juice:
Hard is the Rule, and Lovers oft complain;
Tho' hard, yet proper for a vig'rous Strain.
For this, the Wise, by Nature's Course, are taught,
That when the Work is in the Morning wrought,
The Rudiments of Man, more aptly take
A just Proportion, and a finish'd Make.
This Reason proves; for, when by Sleep opprest,
At Night the weary'd Limbs relax with Rest;
The Warmth more slowly thro' the Skin perspires,
And to the Seats of inward Life retires;
There with a peircing, and more subtle Heat,
It forcibly ferments the passive Meat;
Which by the Fibres of the Stomach wore,
And for Digestion half prepar'd before,
Lessen'd and chang'd, a milky Colour takes,
And a quick Passage to the Liver makes;
There chang'd again, a ruddy Tincture gains,
And flowing onward, flushes in the Veins.
From hence the Parts impregnated below,
With new redundant Tides of Juices flow,
For as the Streams are in the Vessels roll'd,
Thro' interwoven Network Fold, on Fold,
Mix'd, and remix'd with Spirits as they pass,
Enrich'd they rise into a Vital Mass;
The Forms thus fix'd, the Principles refin'd,
Frame a fit Lodging for the heav'nly Mind.
This Caution then observe, and now forbear,
With ill-tim'd Kisses to provoke the Fair,
Least Nature hurry'd by too fierce a Toil,
Her lovely, secret Operation spoil,
And the best, blissful Work imperfect done,
Be curs'd hereafter by thy future Son.
Who has not heard, how the Great Thund'ring God,
One heav'nly Holiday had got his Load,
And warm with Nectar, reeling to his Rest,
Unseasonably his Consort Juno prest?
From that Embrace the Monster Vulcan sprung,
Whom his own Father from Olympus flung:
So dead his Features, and so foul his Face,
The Gods deny'd him at their Feasts a Place;
So soon rejected where he once apply'd,
That homely Pallas scorn'd to be his Bride;
And Taunting bid him with Dame Venus treat,
Who might his ill-shap'd Mass in Wedlock meet,
Not from her Choice, but more abundant Heat:
She too abhors him, and promiscuous lies,
With Gods and Men of ev'ry Sort, and Size,
And Plants, for all the Sacred Marriage Vows,
Many fair Antlers on his ugly Brows.
Nor is this Rule enough, to Check thy Haste,
And not the Genial Heat untimely waste;
Before the Food is from the Stomach thrown;
A Second hear, and hearing make thy own.
‘Skilfull observe the Skies, what Planet shines,
‘When to the close Embrace thy Soul inclines,
‘When Nature stretching from the barren Kiss,
‘Flies to the sweet Extremity of Bliss.
The Reason this; the Care is not so great,
Nor carries with it half so much of Fate,
Under what Star, or what prevailing Ray,
The crying Infant breaks th'implicit Way,
And springing from the Prison struggles into Day;
As at Conception chief what Stars preside,
The just Concretion of the Seed to guide;
For then the Fluid in the Womb enclos'd,
To a due Cement by the Heat dispos'd,
Feels the sure Influence which the Stars create,
More forcibly Affect its forming State,
Then, at that Instant, as the Planets Sway,
The tender, Ductile Matter must Obey.
But oh! What Mortal Science can unfold,
The fatal Mysteries above enroll'd?
Thou Goddess, Thou of high Celestial Birth,
Scornful of lower Air, and sordid Earth,
To whom the willing Gates of Heav'n disclose,
Each Starry Orb that in her Bosom glows;
Do thou Urania Aid me, and Inspire
Thy Heav'nly Poet with a Heav'nly Fire;
Hard is the Task the beauteous Theme to raise,
But well-sung Beauty will Reward with Praise;
If thou thy Influence shed, and guide my Tongue,
Sweet shall the tuneful Numbers flow along,
And own Thee Patroness of my Harmonious Song.
This arched Concave of the World behold,
Studded with Stars, and skirted round with Gold;
Think not those shining Luminaries Blaze,
That idle Man may on the Prospect Gaze:
For, highest Jove, whose forming Hand they boast,
Sow'd not the Heaven's with that unnumber'd Host,
That we might upward cast our wondring Eyes,
And Praise the curious Picture of the Skies,
From deeper Reasons of the Makers Thought
Was that fine System of Creation wrought.
Observ'st thou not the Fluxes here below,
As diff'rent Stars their diff'rent Faces shew,
How Heats they cause, or Show'rs and Tempests range,
And ev'ry Element alternate Change.
Who doubts the Hyades moist Seasons Form?
Or that Orion enters in a Storm?
See! How the Dog-Star's Fire the Meadows Burns,
Drinks Rivers up, and Drains their Thirsty Urns.
Nor need I direful Unions now relate,
Authors of Ill, and Arbiters of Fate;
Saturn, tremendous with his Scythe from far,
Jove stain'd with Blood, and Mars denouncing War;
Should they alas! In one sad Juncture shine,
Their Rage augmented in fierce Leo's Sign;
How many Nations would to Sorrows turn,
And see their Country waste, their Cities burn!
How would Triumphant Discord on the Plain,
Free as the Wind the Steeds of War unrein,
And with Varieties of Death her Purple Garment stain!
Then Ancient Thrones, and Empires would Decay,
And own a New, Usurping Tyrant's Sway;
Such fatal Stars did once before Inspire,
The Rival Chiefs, to set the World on Fire:
Here Pompey, there Victorious Cæsar stood,
And dire Pharsalia blush'd in Roman Blood.
(And if a Poet's Song may Credit gain)
The same destructive Stars at present Reign,
That shake the Gaul, and Spaniard with Alarms,
And drive contending Monarchies to Arms;
For Saturn, Jove, and Mars, with mingl'd Rays
In Chiron's ruddy Arms, malignant Blaze.
Beside, beneath these Stars that Plague arose,
Which fiercely in the Seats of Pleasure glows;
That the sweet Purpose of our Kind destroys,
And or Forbids, or Poisons all our Joys.
For so the Tales of late Tradition run,
That when the fatal Malady begun
To spread, and shew the lurking Cause within
By putrid Stains, and a discolour'd Skin.
Then Mars shone Adverse, and in Cancer set,
With livid Saturn inauspicious met,
Their Influence join'd more Pestilential grew,
And with their Rays th'envenom'd Vapour flew.
But why the Gods presume I to Display,
And Mortal, tread their Everlasting Way?
Why search I Causes of portentous Weight,
Or doubtfully pursue retiring Fate?
Better absolve my Promise, and unfold
What proper Stars work up the beauteous Mold,
And tell, what Phæbus to his Poet told.
Mankind, (as Fame reports) of Old opprest,
To Heav'n their supplicating Sighs addrest,
Much did the sad degen'rate Race complain,
How wide Deformity had spread her Reign,
How more than half their Kind were loathsom Born,
Scandals of Nature, and their Parent's Scorn.
Unknown the Cause; whether the Air supply'd
With tainted Particles the Vital Tide;
Or the containing Womb the Venom bred,
And it's own Shame the vicious Stamen fed.
'Tis certain Beauty then but thinly grew,
Few were the charming Wives, the comely Husbands few.
First, If the Ram, Europa's Bearer rise
And with his fiery Fleece infest the Skies,
When bound in strict Embrace the Couple meet,
When the warm Fluid glows with fruitful Heat,
The Wife that Reckons from that Luckless date,
Shall view an Offspring she her self will Hate.
That Product shall Disgrace his Parent's Bed,
With lank Crane-Neck, and spiral length of Head:
His Legs un-pair'd, of disproportion'd Size,
A stupid leaden Look, and downcast Eyes;
Thick Scales shall plaite his Skin, and arm his Hand
Or horrent with a furrow'd Roughness stand,
O'er his broad Shoulders, and Athletic make,
Bright silver Locks in wanton curles shall shake,
That ill-match'd Beauty, hideous to the Sight,
Will more Deform the Monster-finish'd Wight.
But chief, if Mars shall then infect the Earth,
Or Saturn envious Glance upon his Birth;
For they are Foes to Beauty, and Disarm
Each graceful Member of each killing Charm,
Nor leave one single Feature of Esteem,
That can from Scorn the wretched Mass redeem.
Nor more the Bull adorns, or fiercer Eye
That dart his Beams obliquely from the Sky,
Ye too, ye Pleiades destructive shine,
And marr the Beauties of a lovely Line;
Your selves tho' Brightest in th'Ætherial Plains,
Tho' ev'ry Face fair Pleione retains,
And in each Daughter-Star the lovely Mother reigns;
Yet ah! No Joy arises from your Sway,
If Cynthia Blend not her ore'ruling Ray;
She Forms the waxen Arms, the Limbs refines,
By her the Skin, a polish'd Surface shines,
And Beauty follows as she draws the Lines.
Ah! How unlike do Cancer's Beams succeed!
How shoot they Adverse, and corrupt the Breed!
The foul Aselli in his Sphere he draws,
And fierce Unclenches his extended Claws;
By him the Limbs mishap'd, the Strain is crost,
The Eyes are almost in their Socket lost;
The Teeth discolour'd with a loathsom Jett,
Or widely Gaping, or uneven Set;
Tumours appear, the Back-Bone bow'd within,
Upheaves the Chest to meet the hanging Chin;
The huddl'd Piece to Pigmy-size is ty'd,
And the lank Arms hang dangling by the Side.
See! Next, the great Alcides Trophy rise,
The fiery Lion raging in the Skies;
His Pow'r in yellow Locks is seen exprest,
In flashing Eyes, and ample Width of Chest,
In large and brawny Limbs, in Feature bold,
And Stature of a tall Gigantic Mould.
From him can ought or kind or lovesom flow,
The Terror of Athenian Swains below?
'Till Hercules advanc'd and sav'd the Land,
A Conquest worthy of the Hero's Hand.
So fierce his Rage, that My serener Reign
Can scarce the Fury of his Beams restrain;
And when abated by these milder Heats,
The Lion still obtains, and sullenly retreats.
Then Virgo, fairest Star, exerts her Light,
And kind Astrea, Patroness of Right,
Her Refuge Heav'n, when scar'd by brutal Rage,
She fled the bloody World, and Iron Age;
Fast by her Side observe the Spike dispence
Her friendly Beams, and shine in Innocence;
Not Jove himself a purer Flame bestows,
Or on the Womb with kinder Lustre glows;
Then shall kind Virgo bless thy promis'd Breed,
And cherish safe the Vegetative Seed,
Harmonious Shapes, and Airs serenely mild,
And Looks of Love shall beautify the Child.
From rising Libra equal Beauty glides,
Since Venus there eternally resides;
There is her Throne, the Graces there appear,
Join with their Queen, and wanton in the Sphere
The Goddess hence the new-born Infant arms,
And Male and Female glitter in her Charms.
Yet Saturn often with a spiteful Gleam
Rebates the Brightness of her purer Beam;
His Rays o'er other Parts the Reign assume,
And deep encloud them with a dusky Gloom;
But Venus still more prevalently bright,
Breaks thro' the sullen Horror of his Light,
Preserves the Face, and Silvers it with White.
But who can Scorpio's foul Impression view,
The sordid Features, and the sickly Hue?
He fatally unfurls his pois'nous Folds,
And half the Firmament encompast holds;
Red Hair and little Eyes attend his Fates,
The Legs he lengthens, and the Feet dilates;
Such odious Forms the Monster's Birth betray,
Sprung from rude Principles of slimy Clay.
The Centaur scatters not so much Disgrace,
Nor will so sure the forming Limbs debase;
Chiron, who once the great Achilles sway'd,
The Tutor nodded, and the Youth obey'd;
But now that Heav'n he graces, which before
He taught unknowing Mortals to adore.
For if above the parting Waves he show
His Head, or Shoulders, or his Cretan Bow,
The happy Star agreeing Traces leaves,
And blesses ev'ry Womb which then conceives.
But if he drag the Horses Tail behind,
The brutal part prevails, and proves unkind.
Too well the shaggy Goat's dull Flame is known,
Whom grisly Saturn's dire Dominions own:
The Child shall prove, beneath their Aspects got,
From Head to Foot one universal Blot.
Fruitful the Drops from Hyla's Pitcher flow,
And cheer the corresponding Womb below;
The smiling Boy in his Effects is shown,
In lovely Charms, and Beauties like his own.
The briny Fishes last compleat the Round,
Thin Humours there, and watry Parts abound;
Small Heads and puny Arms on them depend,
And Shapes which in distorted Postures bend;
Their Size to Dwarfish Littleness confin'd,
Seems an imperfect Model of Mankind.
Why should I show the moving Planets Foes,
Or Star to Star, and Sign to Sign oppose?
In Quadrate how destructive they combine,
Friendly in Sextile, and Harmonious Trine?
Happy, if Venus, or thou, Father Jove,
Temper their Influence, and in Concert move;
Then quick the Principles of Being shoot,
And bloom, and ripen into lovely Fruit.
The Seasons too observ'd of sov'reign Use,
Much to a beauteous Progeny conduce;
Of all, the Spring-Embraces best succeed,
Productive of the strongest, sanguin Breed.
Then Nature kindly animates the Earth,
And quickens with an universal Birth;
The Air impregnated with fruitful Rays,
Reviving Force and genial Warmth conveys.
But Summer-Heats the flowing Bile inflame,
And prey too fiercely on the vital Frame;
The Strength still wasting as the Spirits fly,
Defrauded Nature wants a due Supply.
Nor less will Autumn's sickly Turns impair,
Nor the rough raging of a Wintry Air.
Thus Man misled by Ignorance or Lust,
Is to his Kind, and to himself unjust;
Of Choice regardless, he disdains to know
What Stars above, what Seasons here below,
In Love's soft Battles most successful are,
And surest mark the future Offspring Fair.
Apollo's Speech the heav'nly Congress moves,
And Jove with a superiour Nod approves;
The Muse by his Command the Rules receives,
And deep engraves them in eternal Leaves.
In Pindus long the Treasure lay unknown,
Till She, who makes my sacred Song her own,
These Laws before from mortal Eyes conceal'd,
Urania to her Favourite Bard reveal'd.
Then you, who would a Father's Honour claim,
And hear with Joy the soft endearing Name;
Who would bright Patterns of your kind convey,
In Them reviving, as your Selves decay;
Observe exact the Season and the Hour,
In which each rising Sign exerts its Pow'r;
Attend if Saturn, or the God of War,
Or Jupiter o'er-rule th'inferiour Star;
Whether the Sun on Venus darts his Fires,
Or with the Moon or Mercury conspires.
Start not, ye Fair, nor from my Verse retreat,
Thinking the Study of the Science great;
For all these mighty Volumes of the Sky,
Explain'd in short, and easy Tables lie;
Fear not to read these Precepts, which so well
Each Annual common Kalendar can tell.
This gen'ral Rule apply to ev'ry Case,
In twice twelve Hours, the whole Ætherial Space
Turns round from East to West, and finishes its Race.
Such Choice there is, when you incline to kiss,
That you can never want a Sign for Bliss:
Nor is it only proper to impart
How far the heav'nly System suits our Art,
And how the nicest Time of Joy to chuse,
Still hear, ye Husbands, my instructive Muse.
“Press not your Wives tho' heighth'ned Lust incite
“The Soul to try the pleasurable Fight,
“While the Blood Monthly rushing from the Veins,
“The flowing Womb with foul Pollution stains.
For then the Seed unfructifying lies,
Or downward with the blended Torrent flies,
And in the common Mass of Nature dies;
Vain are thy Hopes, thy Punishment is just,
And Childless thou shalt mourn thy forward Lust.
So the Grain scatter'd by the careless Clown,
While frequent Show'rs the moisten'd Furrows drown,
Will no Increase, no Golden Harvest yield,
To load the Barn, and beautify the Field.
But if by Chance the Seeds concurring fix,
And with th'impurer Dross of Nature mix,
What a detested, miscreated Thing,
From such ill-suited Principles must spring?
Foul Leprous Spots shall with his Birth begin,
Spread o'er his Body, and encrust his Skin;
For the same Poison which that Stream contains,
Transfer'd affects the forming Infant's Veins,
Inbred it fixes deep, and radically reigns.
For Nature's common Bosom nothing breeds,
That this malignant Female Filth exceeds;
Let this infect the tender nursling Vine,
Its Beauty withers, and its Arms recline;
On Corn, or blooming Buds the Venom cast,
They fade, as at the Lightning's fatal Blast;
Lick'd by the Dog it proves his certain Bain,
And heats to giddy Whirls his madding Brain.
Ye Husbands then such foul Embraces fly,
And tho' provok'd the nauseous Bliss deny;
Let Nature for a clean Receiver stay,
The Fruit will well reward thy wise Delay.
“Ye too, fond Wives, who in Excess of Joy
“Snatch at the Bliss, and Heat, and Strength employ,
“Be modest; nor to show the Woman's Force,
“Disgrace the Sex, and spoil the Genial Course.
The rude Concussion of such frequent Strokes
Too much the desultory Womb provokes;
And thus the vital Tide is backward cast
Through the same Channels, which before it pass'd.
But if the Womb the fruitful Seed retains,
Compute the worthless Product of thy Pains;
The shatter'd Fluid toss'd from Side to Side,
Will strain the Fœtus, and the Parts divide;
The Threads spun out to an unsinew'd Length,
Nor active Spring shall boast, nor manly Strength.
Forgive me, Nymphs, if by my Subject led
Thro' ev'ry winding Turn, and mazy Thread,
I follow Nature to her Fountain-Head.
As I describe, let the pursuing Eye
The Form and Fashion of the Womb descry.
Beneath those Parts, where stretching to its Bound,
The low Abdomen girds the Belly round,
The Shop of Nature lies; a vacant Space
Of small Circumference divides the Place,
Pear-like the Shape; within a Membrane spreads
Her various Texture of Mæandrous Threads;
These draw the Vessels to a pursy State,
And or contract their Substance, or dilate.
Here Veins, Nerves, Arteries in Pairs declare
How nobler Parts deserve a double Care;
They from the Mass the Blood and Spirits drain,
That irrigate profuse the thirsty Plain;
The Bottom of the Womb 'tis call'd; the Sides are cleft,
By Cells distinguish'd into Right and Left.
'Tis thought that Females in the Left prevail,
And that the Right contains the sprightly Male.
A Passage here in Form oblong extends,
Where fast compress'd the stiffen'd Nerve ascends,
And the warm Fluid with concurring Fluids blends.
The Sages this the Womb's Neck justly name;
Within the Hollow of its inward Frame,
Join'd to the Parts, a small Protub'rance grows,
Whose rising Lips the deep Recesses close.
For while the Tiller all his Strength collects,
While Hope anticipates the fair Effects,
The lubricated Parts their Station leave,
And closely to the working Engine cleave;
Each Vessel stretches, and distending wide,
The greedy Womb attracts the glowing Tide,
And either Sex commix'd, the Streams united glide.
But now the Womb relax'd, with pleasing Pain
Gently subsides into it self again;
The Seed moves with it, and thus clos'd within
The tender Drops of Entity begin.
What Joy the Fibres of the Stomach feel,
Long pinch'd with Hunger, at a grateful Meal,
Such tickling Pleasure thro' the Womb is sent,
When first the Particles of Life ferment.
This easy Picture of the Parts explains,
How frequent Motion no effect obtains;
The Seed and Pleasure lost in eager Strife,
A useful Lesson to the forward Wife.
Most Parents Wishes in one Channel run,
Most think they are not blest without a Son,
Let such attentive my Prescriptions read,
That teach to propagate the manly Breed.
Nor do I partial to their Vows incline,
Since Males support the Titles of the Line,
And in their Ancestors transmissive Glory shine.
Tho' some to Satire form'd, and born to vex,
Dare impiously prophane the softer Sex,
As Nature careless from her Purpose stray'd,
And puny Girls by Accident were made;
By this Mistake her Operation lame,
Unwillingly she huddled up the Frame,
And thence the lovely, charming monstrous Creature came.
But better Judges scorn this idle Dream,
And still shall Beauty hold its due Esteem,
Man still shall praise, and Woman be the Theme.
But yet we must our destin'd Task pursue,
And tell what Precepts for a Male are due;
That a long Race of future Sons may claim
The mighty, venerable, Regal Name,
And Honours which on Princely Lines attend,
From Son to Son successively descend.
Willing I follow where the Muse invites
Declining Venus more mysterious Rites.
Next sing we how the Fœtus first is wrought,
By rip'ning Time to due Dimensions brought
And Man appears a perfect Master-Draught.