The Third Volume of the Works of Mr. William Congreve ::

The Men are arm'd, and for the Fight prepare;
And now we must instruct and arm the Fair.
Both Sexes, well appointed, take the Field,
And mighty Love determine which shall yield.
Man were ignoble, when, thus arm'd, to show
Unequal Force against a naked Foe:
No Glory from such Conquest can be gain'd,
And Odds are always by the Brave disdain'd.

1004

But, some exclaim, what Frensie rules your Mind?
Would you encrease the Craft of Woman-kind!
Teach them new Wiles and Arts! As well you may
Instruct a Snake to bite, or Wolf to prey.
But, sure, too hard a Censure they pursue,
Who charge on all, the Failings of a few.
Examine, first, impartially each Fair,
Then, as she merits, or condemn, or spare.
If

Agamemnon and Menelaus, two Brothers, marry'd two Sisters, Clytemnestra and Helena, both of 'em preferr'd Galants to their Husbands Beds.

Menelaus, and the King of Men,
With Justice, of their Sister-Wives complain;
If false

Daughter of Talaon, King of Argos, for the sake of a Golden Chain, perswaded her Husband Amphiaraus to go to the Theban War, in which she knew he must be slain.

Eriphyle forsook her Faith,
And for Reward procur'd her Husband's Death;
Penelope

Daughter of Icarus and Polycasta, was marry'd to Ulysses, and much celebrated by the Ancients for her invincible Chastity.

was Loyal still, and Chaste,
Tho' twenty Years her Lord in Absence pass'd.
Reflect how

When Laodamia heard her Husband Protesilaus was kill'd in the Trojan War, she passionately desired to see his Ghost, which being granted her by the Gods, she embraced it so closely that she perish'd in the Embrace.

Laodamia's Truth was try'd,
Who, tho' in Bloom of Youth, and Beauty's Pride,
To share her Husband's Fate, untimely dy'd.
Think how

She offer'd to dye to lengthen her Husband Admetus's Life.

Alceste's Piety was prov'd,
Who lost her Life, to save the Man she lov'd.

1005

Receive me, Capaneus,

The Daughter of Iphias marry'd Capaneus, who signalized himself in the Theban War.

Evadne cry'd;
Nor Death it self our Nuptials shall divide:
To join thy Ashes, pleas'd I shall expire.
She said, and leap'd amid the Fun'ral Fire.
Virtue

Virtue was represented at Rome in a Woman's Habit, and had a Temple and Altars dedicated to her.

her self a Goddess we confess,
Both Female in her Name and in her Dress;
No wonder then, if to her Sex inclin'd,
She cultivates with Care a Female Mind.
But these exalted Souls exceed the Reach
Of that soft Art, which I pretend to teach.
My tender Barque requires a gentle Gale,
A little Wind will fill a little Sail.
Of sportful Loves I sing, and shew what Ways
The willing Nymph must use, her Bliss to raise,
And how to captivate the Man she'd please.
Woman is soft, and of a tender Heart,
Apt to receive, and to retain Love's Dart:
Man has a Breast robust, and more secure,
It wounds him not so deep, nor hits so sure.

1006

Men oft are false; and, if you search with Care,
You'll find less Fraud imputed to the Fair.
The faithless

The Son of Æson, marry'd Medea the King of Colchos's Daughter, who had assisted him in carrying off the Golden Fleece, but afterwards forsook her, and marry'd Creusa Daughter to the King of Corinth.

Jason from Medea fled,
And made Creusa Partner of his Bed.
Bright

The Daughter of Minos King of Crete, being in Love with Theseus, conducted him out of the Labyrinth, by the Means of a Clew of Thread. She fled from Crete with Theseus, who left her on a barren Shore, and she was afterwards marry'd to Bacchus.

Ariadne, on an unknown Shore,
Thy Absence, perjur'd Theseus, did deplore.
If then, the wild Inhabitants of Air
Forbore her tender lovely Limbs to tear,
It was not owing, Theseus, to thy Care.
Enquire the Cause, and let Demophoon tell,
Why

Daughter of Lycurgus King of Thrace, despairing of the Return of Demophoon, Son of Theseus, to whom she had granted her last Favours, was transform'd into an Almond-Tree as she was going to hang her self.

Phillis by a Fate untimely fell.
Nine times, in vain, upon the promis'd Day,
She sought th'appointed Shore, and view'd the Sea:
Her Fall the fading Trees consent to mourn,
And shed their Leaves round her lamented Urn.

The Prince so far for Piety renown'd,
To thee,

The pious Hero excus'd his Falshood by the Injunction of the Gods.

Eliza, was unfaithful found;
To thee forlorn, and languishing with Grief,
His Sword alone he left, thy last Relief.

1007

Ye ruin'd Nymphs, shall I the Cause impart
Of all your Woes? 'Twas want of needful Art.
Love, of it self, too quickly will expire;
But pow'rful Art perpetuates Desire.
Women had yet their Ignorance bewail'd,
Had not this Art by Venus been reveal'd.

Before my Sight the Cyprian Goddess shone,
And thus she said; What have poor Women done?
Why is that weak, defenceless Sex expos'd;
On ev'ry Side, by Men well-arm'd, enclos'd?
Twice are the Men instructed by thy Muse,
Nor must she now to teach the Sex refuse.
The

The Poet Stesichorus wrote a bitter Satire against Hellen, for which her Brothers Castor and Pollux pluck'd out his Eyes; but having recanted some time after in his Palinodia, a Poem quite contrary to the former, he was restored to his Sight.

Bard who injur'd Hellen in his Song,
Recanted after, and redress'd the Wrong.
And you, if on my Favour you depend,
The Cause of Women, while you live, defend.
This said, a Myrtle Sprig, which Berries bore,
She gave me (for a Myrtle Wreath she wore.)

1008

The Gift receiv'd, my Sense enlighten'd grew,
And from her Presence Inspiration drew.
Attend, ye Nymphs, by Wedlock unconfin'd,
And hear my Precepts, while she prompts my Mind.
Ev'n now, in Bloom of Youth, and Beauty's Prime,
Beware of coming Age, nor waste your Time:
Now, while you may, and rip'ning Years invite,
Enjoy the seasonable, sweet Delight:
For rolling Years, like stealing Waters, glide;
Nor hope to stop their ever-ebbing Tide:
Think not, hereafter will the Loss repay;
For ev'ry Morrow will the Taste decay,
And leave less Relish than the former Day.
I've seen the time, when, on that wither'd Thorn,
The blooming Rose vy'd with the blushing Morn.
With fragrant Wreaths I thence have deck'd my Head,
And see, how leaf-less now, and how decay'd!
And you, who now the Love-sick Youth reject,
Will prove, in Age, what Pains attend Neglect.

1009

None, then, will press upon your Midnight Hours,
Nor wake, to strew your Street with Morning Flow'rs.
Then nightly Knockings at your Door will cease,
Whose noiseless Hammer, then, may rust in Peace.

Alas, how soon a clear Complexion fades!
How soon a wrinkl'd Skin plump Flesh invades!
And what avails it, tho' the Fair one swears
She from her Infancy had some grey Hairs?
She grows all hoary in a few more Years,
And then the venerable Truth appears.
The Snake his Skin, the Deer his Horns may cast,
And both renew their Youth and Vigour pass'd:
But no Receipt can Human-kind relieve,
Doom'd to decrepit Age, without Reprieve.
Then crop the Flow'r which yet invites your Eye.
And which, ungather'd, on its Stalk must die.
Besides, the tender Sex is form'd to bear,
And frequent Births, too soon will Youth impair:

1010

Continual Harvest wears the fruitful Field,
And Earth it self decays, too often till'd.
Thou didst not, Cynthia, scorn the Latmian

With whom the Moon fell in Love, and descended to converse with him on Mount Latmos in Caria.

Swain;
Nor thou, Aurora,

Cephalus being in Love with Cephalus, who had marry'd Procris the King of Athens his Daughter, found him so invincibly constant to his Wife, that, 'tis said, she was forc'd to ravish him. The Reader will meet with a fuller Account of him at the End of this Book.

Cephalus disdain;
The Paphian Queen, who, for

The Son of Cynaras King of Cyprus, was slain by a Boar as he was a hunting, to the unexpressible Grief of the Goddess Venus.

Adonis' Fate,
So deeply mourn'd, and who laments him yet,
Has not been found inexorable since;
Witness

Or Hermione, was the Daughter of Venus by the God Mars, as was the Dardan Prince Æneas her Son by Anchises.

Harmonia, and the Dardan Prince.
Then take Example, Mortals, from above,
And like Immortals live, and like 'em love.
Refuse not those Delights, which Men require,
Nor let your Lovers languish with Desire.
False tho' they prove, what Loss can you sustain?
Thence let a thousand take, 'twill all remain.
Tho' constant Use, ev'n Flint and Steel impairs,
What you employ no Diminution fears.
Who would, to light a Torch, their Torch deny?
Or who can dread drinking an Ocean dry?
Still Women lose, you cry, if Men obtain:
What do they lose, that's worthy to retain

Et tamen ulla viro mulier non expedit, inquit.
Quid, nisi quam sumis, dic mihi perdis aquam?

These Verses are not barely translated to the litteral Sense which is conceiv'd to be in 'em; but paraphras'd according to the Interpretation of Heinsius, who seems truly to understand the Text, tho' differing in his Conjecture from Scaliger and other Commentators. If any Reader is curious enough to consult the Commentary of Heinsius on this Place, he will find by other Instances cited from Ovid, that aquam sumere was a Phrase appropriated to a particular Time and Custom among Women. This had not been insisted on here, had it not been the only Passage in this Book which all other Commentators but Heinsius have render'd unintelligible; for otherwise the Verses are not very considerable: And the most which Ovid says in this Place, is no more than if speaking of eating he had said, Why should any one scruple to use their Hands, when it can cost 'em nothing but a little Water to wash 'em afterwards, which is not worth saving?

1011

Think not this said to prostitute the Sex,
But undeceive whom needless Fears perplex.

Thus far a gentle Breeze supplies our Sail,
Now launch'd to Sea, we ask a brisker Gale.
And, first, we treat of Dress. The well-dress'd Vine
Produces plumpest Grapes, and richest Wine;
And plenteous Crops of golden Grain are found,
Alone, to grace well-cultivated Ground.
Beauty's the Gift of Gods, the Sexes Pride!
Yet, to how many, is that Gift deny'd?
Art helps a Face; a Face, tho' heav'nly fair,
May quickly fade for want of needful Care.
In ancient Days, if Women slighted Dress,
Then Men were ruder too, and lik'd it less.
If Hector's

The Wife of Hector, is always represented as a plain sort of Woman.

Spouse was clad in stubborn Stuff,
A Soldier's Wife became it well enough.
Ajax, to shield his ample Breast, provides
Seven lusty Bulls, and tanns their sturdy Hides;

1012

And might not he, d'ye think, be well caress'd,
And yet his Wife not elegantly dress'd?
With rude Simplicity Rome first was built,
Which now we see adorn'd, and carv'd, and gilt
This

The Capitol was a Hill in Rome, so call'd from a Man's Head, which was found there as the Romans were digging the Foundation of the Temple of Jupiter.

Capitol with that of Old compare;
Some other Jove, you'd think, was worshipp'd there.
That lofty Pile, where Senates dictate Law,
When Tatius reign'd, was poorly thatch'd with Straw:
And where Apollo's Fane refulgent stands,
Was heretofore a Tract of Pasture-Lands.
Let ancient Manners other Men delight;
But me the Modern please, as more Polite.
Not, that Materials now in Gold are wrought,
And distant Shores for Orient Pearls are sought;
Nor for, that Hills exhaust their Marble Veins,
And Structures rise whose Bulk the Sea restrains:
But, that the World is civiliz'd of late,
And polish'd from the Rust of former Date.
Let not the Nymph with Pendants load her Ear,
Nor in Embroid'ry, or Brocard, appear;

1013

Too rich a Dress may sometimes check Desire;
And Cleanliness more animate Love's Fire.
The Hair dispos'd, may gain or lose a Grace,
And much become, or mis-become the Face.
What sutes your Features, of your Glass enquire,
For no one Rule is fix'd for Head-Attire.
A Face too long shou'd part, and flat the Hair,
Lest, upward comb'd, the Length too much appear:
So Laodamia dress'd. A Face too round,
Shou'd show the Ears, and with a Tour be crown'd.
On either Shoulder, one, her Locks displays;
Adorn'd like Phœbus, when he sings his Lays:
Another, all her Tresses ties behind;
So dress'd, Diana hunts the fearful Hind.
Dishevell'd Locks most graceful are to some;
Others, the binding Fillets more become:
Some plat, like Spiral Shells, their braded Hair,
Others, the loose and waving Curl prefer.
But, to recount the several Dresses worn,
Which artfully each sev'ral Face adorn,

1014

Were endless, as to tell the Leaves on Trees,
The Beasts on Alpine Hills, or Hybla's Bees.
Many there are, who seem to slight all Care,
And with a pleasing Negligence ensnare;
Whole Mornings oft, in such a Dress are spent,
And all is Art, that looks like Accident.
With such Disorder

Daughter of Eurytus, King of Oechalia, and Wife to Hercules. He took her from her Father by Force, because the King would not consent to it when he return'd from Ætolia, where he had marry'd Deianira.

Iöle was grac'd,
When great Alcides first the Nymph embrac'd.
So Ariadne came to Bacchus Bed,
When with the Conqueror from Crete she fled.

Nature, indulgent to the Sex, repays
The Losses they sustain, by various ways.
Men ill supply those Hairs they shed in Age,
Lost, like Autumnal Leaves, when North-winds rage.
Women, with Juice of Herbs, grey Locks disguise,
And Art gives Colour which with Nature vyes.
The well-wove Tours they wear, their own are thought:
But only are their own, as what they've bought.

1015

Nor need they blush to buy Heads ready dress'd,
And chuse, at publick Shops, what sutes 'em best.

Costly Apparel let the Fair one fly,
Enrich'd with Gold, or with the Tyrian Dye.
What Folly must in such Expence appear,
When more becoming Colours are less dear?
One, with a Dye is ting'd of lovely Blue;
Such as, thro' Air serene, the Sky we view.
With yellow Lustre see another spread,
As if the Golden Fleece compos'd the Thread.
Some, of the Sea-green Wave the Cast display;
With this, the Nymphs, their beauteous Forms array:
And some, the Saffron Hue will well adorn;
Such is the Mantle of the blushing Morn.
Of Myrtle berries, one, the Tincture shows;
In this, of Amethysts, the Purple glows,
And, that, more imitates the paler Rose.
Nor Thracian Cranes forget, whose silv'ry Plumes
Give Patterns, which employ the mimick Looms.

1016

Nor Almond, nor the Chesnut Dye disclaim;
Nor others, which from Wax derive their Name.
As Fields you find, with various Flow'rs o'erspread
When Vineyards bud, and Winter's Frost is fled;
So various are the Colours you may try,
Of which, the thirsty Wooll imbibes the Dye.
Try ev'ry one, what best becomes you, wear;
For no Complexion all alike can bear.
If fair the Skin, black may become it best,
In black the lovely Fair

The Daughter of Brises, from thence call'd Briseis, fell by Lot to Achilles at the Sack of Lyrnessus.

Briseis dress'd:
If brown the Nymph, let her be cloath'd in white,
Andromeda

The Daughter of Cepheus King of Æthiopia, was for her Mother's Pride exposed to be devoured by an horrible Sea-Monster, but being rescued by Perseus, she was afterwards marry'd to him.

so charm'd the wond'ring Sight.

I need not warn you of too pow'rful Smells,
Which, sometimes Health, or kindly Heat expels.
Nor, from your tender Legs to pluck with Care
The casual Growth of all unseemly Hair.
Tho' not to Nymphs of

Is a Mountain which stretches it self from the East-Indies to Mount Taurus, but goes by several Names, according as 'tis inhabited by several Nations.

Caucasus I sing,
Nor such who taste remote the Mysian

Is a Country in Asia Minor bordering upon Troas, remarkable for nothing more than the Worthlesness of its Inhabitants. Ovid saith he is addressing himself to the polite Roman Ladies, and not to the wild Inhabitants of Caucasus and Mysia.

Spring;

1017

Yet, let me warn you, that, thro' no Neglect,
You let your Teeth disclose the least Defect,
You know the Use of white to make you fair,
And how, with red, lost Colour to repair;
Imperfect Eye-brows you by Art can mend,
And Skin, when wanting, o'er a Scar extend.
Nor need the Fair One be asham'd, who tries,
By Art, to add new Lustre to her Eyes.

A little Book

He means his Book de Medicamine Faciei, of which we have some Fragments remaining.

I've made, but with great Care,
How to preserve the Face, and how repair.
In that, the Nymphs, by Time or Chance annoy'd,
May see, what Pains to please 'em I've employ'd.
But, still beware, that from your Lover's Eye
You keep conceal'd the Med'cines you apply:
Tho' Art assists, yet must that Art be hid,
Lest, whom it would invite, it should forbid.
Who would not take Offence, to see a Face
All daub'd, and dripping with the melted Grease?

1018

And tho' your Unguents bear th'Athenian Name,
The Wooll's unsav'ry Scent is still the same.
Marrow of Stags, nor your Pomatums try,
Nor clean your furry Teeth, when Men are by;
For many things, when done, afford Delight,
Which yet, while doing, may offend the Sight.
Even Myro's

There were two famous Statuaries of this Name, one a Lycian, and the other of Eleuthera.

Statues, which for Art surpass
All others, once were but a shapeless Mass;
Rude was that Gold which now in Rings is worn,
As once the Robe you wear was Wooll unshorn.
Think, how that Stone rough in the Quarry grew,
Which, now, a perfect Venus shews to View.
While we suppose you sleep, repair your Face,
Lock'd from Observers, in some secret Place.
Add the last Hand, before your selves you show;
Your need of Art, why should your Lover know?
For many things, when most conceal'd, are best;
And few, of strict Enquiry, bear the Test.
Those Figures which in Theatres are seen,
Gilded without, are common Wood within.

1019

But no Spectators are allow'd to pry,
'Till all is finish'd, which allures the Eye.

Yet, I must own, it oft affords Delight,
To have the Fair one comb her Hair in sight;
To view the flowing Honours of her Head
Fall on her Neck, and o'er her Shoulders spread.
But let her look, that she with Care avoid
All fretful Humours, while she's so employ'd;
Let her not still undo, with peevish Haste,
All that her Woman does; who does her best.
I hate a Vixon, that her Maid assails,
And scratches with her Bodkin, or her Nails;
While the poor Girl in Blood and Tears must mourn,
And her Heart curses, what her Hands adorn.

Let her who has no Hair, or has but some,
Plant Centinels before her Dressing-Room:
Or in the Fane of the good Goddess dress,
Where all the Male-kind are debarr'd Access.

1020

'Tis said, that I (but 'tis a Tale devis'd)
A Lady at her Toilet once surpriz'd;
Who starting, snatch'd in haste the Tour she wore,
And in her hurry, plac'd the hinder Part before.
But on our Foes fall ev'ry such Disgrace,
Or barb'rous Beauties of the Parthian Race.
Ungraceful 'tis to see without a Horn,
The lofty Hart, whom Branches best adorn;
A Leaf-less Tree, or an unverdant Mead;
And as ungraceful is a hair-less Head.

But think not, these Instructions are design'd
For first-rate Beauties, of the finish'd Kind:
Not to a Semele, or

The Daughter of Cadmus, and Mother of Bacchus by Jupiter, having the Curiosity to enjoy the God in his Celestial Majesty, was burnt by Lightning. Leda was the Daughter of Thestius, and the Wife of Tyndarus King of Oebalia: Jupiter in the Shape of a Swan enjoy'd her as she was bathing in the River Eurotus.

Leda bright,
Nor an

The Daughter of Agenor King of Phænicia, was ravish'd by Jupiter in the Shape of a Bull.

Europa, these my Rules I write;
Nor the fair Helen do I teach, whose Charms
Stirr'd up Atrides, and all Greece, to Arms:
Thee to regain, well was that War begun,
And Paris well defended what he won;

1021

What Lover, or what Husband, would not fight
In such a Cause, where both are in the right?

The Croud, I teach, some homely, and some fair;
But of the former Sort, the larger Share.
The handsome, least require the Help of Art,
Rich in themselves, and pleas'd with Nature's Part.
When calm the Sea, at ease the Pilot lyes,
But all his Skill exerts when Storms arise.

Faults in your Person, or your Face, correct;
And few are seen that have not some Defect.
The Nymph too short, her Seat should seldom quit,
Lest, when she stands, she may be thought to sit;
And when extended on her Couch she lyes,
Let Length of Petticoats conceal her Size.
The Lean, of thick-wrought Stuff her Cloaths should chuse,
And fuller made, than what the Plumper use.

1022

If Pale, let her the Crimson Juice apply;
If Swarthy, to the

Pharos was a little Island at the Mouth of the Nile, abounding with Crocodiles, the Entrails of which were excellent to take off Freckles, or Spots in the Face, and whiten the Skin.

Pharian Varnish fly.
A Leg too lank, tight Garters still must wear;
Nor should an ill-shap'd Foot be ever bare.
Round Shoulders,

Little Bolsters of Flocks. The same Invention is us'd in our Days, both for this Defect in Women, and in calv'd Stockings for the Men. And 'tis satisfactory to the Curious to know the Fashion is 1800 Years old.

bolster'd, will appear the least;
And lacing strait, confines too full a Breast.
Whose Fingers are too fat, and Nails too coarse,
Should always shun much Gesture in Discourse.
And you, whose Breath is touch'd, this Caution take,
Nor fasting, nor too near another speak.
Let not the Nymph with Laughter much abound,
Whose Teeth are black, uneven, or unsound.
You hardly think how much on this depends,
And how a Laugh, or spoils a Face, or mends.
Gape not too wide, lest you disclose your Gums,
And lose the Dimple which the Cheek becomes.
Nor let your Sides too strong Concussions shake,
Lest you the Softness of the Sex forsake.
In some, Distortions quite the Face disguise;
Another laughs, that you would think she cries.

1023

In one, too hoarse a Voice we hear betray'd,
Another's is as harsh as if she bray'd.

What cannot Art attain! Many, with ease,
Have learn'd to weep, both when and how they please.
Others, thro' Affectation, lisp, and find,
In Imperfection, Charms to catch Mankind.
Neglect no Means which may promote your Ends;
Now learn what way of Walking recommends.
Too Masculine a Motion shocks the Sight;
But Female Grace allures with strange Delight.
One has an artful Swing and Jut behind,
Which helps her Coats to catch the swelling Wind;
Swell'd with the wanton Wind, they loosely flow,
And ev'ry Step and graceful Motion show.
Another, like an

The Umbrians inhabited a Country joining to the Appenine Hills, which run from Savona, on the Coast of Genoa, to the Sicilian Streights. This Nation were reckon'd as rustick in their Manners, as strong in Bodies, and stout of Heart. The Poet gives us, in an Umbrian Woman, a just Idea of a Modern Peasant's Wife.

Umbrian's sturdy Spouse,
Strides all the Space her Petticoat allows.
Between Extreams, in this, a Mean adjust,
Nor shew too nice a Gate, nor too robust.

1024

If snowy white your Neck, you still should wear
That, and the Shoulder of the left Arm, bare.
Such Sights ne'er fail to fire my am'rous Heart,
And make me pant to kiss the naked Part.

Sirens

The Syrens were three in number, Parthenope, Leucosia and Ligia, half Women, and half Fish. One made use of her Voice, the second of her Lyre, and the third of her Flute. Their Haunt was on the Coast of Sicily, where they charm'd Voyagers, but Ulysses escap'd them.

, tho' Monsters of the stormy Main,
Can Ships, when under Sail, with Songs, detain:
Scarce could Ulysses by his Friends be bound,
When first he listen'd to the charming Sound.
Singing insinuates: Learn, all ye Maids;
Oft, when a Face forbids, a Voice persuades.
Whether on Theatres loud Strains we hear,
Or in Ruelles some soft Egyptian Air.
Well shall she sing, of whom I make my Choice,
And with her Lute accompany her Voice.
The Rocks were stirr'd, the Beasts to listen staid,
When on his Lyre melodious

Orpheus was so skilful in playing on the Lyre, that 'tis said he drew after him Trees and wild Beasts, and charm'd Hell with his Musick, whither he went to recover his Wife Eurydice.

Orpheus play'd;
Even Cerberus and Hell that Sound obey'd.
And Stones officious were, thy Walls to raise,
O Thebes, attracted by

Amphion, the Son of Jupiter and Antiope, is saia to have built the Walls of Thebes by the Sound of his Lyre.

Amphion's Lays.

1025

The Dolphin, dumb it self, thy Voice admir'd,
And was,

Arion was a Musician of Lesbos. Having got a great deal of Mony in his Travels, the Sailors robb'd him and threw him over-board as he was returning home by Sea; but a Dolphin, charm'd with his Musick, convey'd him on his Back safe to Peloponesus, where he procured Periander to put the Sailors to Death.

Arion, by thy Songs inspir'd.

Of sweet

Callimachus, the Son of Battus, was look'd upon to be one of the wittiest and politest Men of his Age.

Callimachus the Works rehearse,
And read

Philetas was a Native of Coos, an Island in the Ægean Sea; he was a celebrated Poet, and Writer of Elegies, and flourish'd under Philip, and his Son Alexander the Great.

Philetas and

Anacreon was a Lyrick Poet of Teios; being a great Lover of Wine, he choak'd himself with a Grape-stone as he was drinking.

Anacreon's Verse.
Terentian Plays may much the Mind improve;
But softest

Sapho was born at Mitylene in the Isle of Lesbos: She writ nine Books of Elegies, and several Epigrams and Satires. Her Sentiments were very tender in her Verses, for which Reason Ovid recommends 'em. According to some Authors, she flung her self into the Sea, because Phaon neglected her.

Sapho best instructs to Love.
Propertius, Gallus, and

These three were celebrated Poets of the Augustan Age. Propertius was a Native of Umbria, and very much esteemed by Mecænas. Gallus commanded under Augustus in Ægypt; and Tibullus was no less remarkable for his Wit, than his Gallantry and Profusion.

Tibullus read,
And let

Publius Terentius Varro Atacinus, of the Province of Gallia Narbonensis, was in Love with a Lady call'd Leucadia, whom he celebrated in his Poetry.

Varronian Verse to these succeed.
Then mighty Maro's Work with Care peruse;
Of all the Latian Bards the noblest Muse.
Even I, 'tis possible, in After-days,
May scape Oblivion, and be nam'd with these.
My labour'd Lines, some Readers may approve,
Since I've instructed either Sex in Love.
Whatever Book you read of this soft Art,
Read with a Lover's Voice, and Lover's Heart

Tender Epistles too, by me are fram'd,
A Work before unthought of, and unnam'd.

1026

Such was your sacred Will, O tuneful Nine!
Such thine, Apollo, and Lyæus, thine!

Still unaccomplish'd may the Maid be thought,
Who gracefully to Dance was never taught:
That active Dancing may to Love engage,
Witness the well-kept Dancers of the Stage.

Of some odd Trifles I'm asham'd to tell,
Tho' it becomes the Sex to trifle well;
To raffle prettily, or slur a Dye,
Implies both Cunning and Dexterity.
Nor is't amiss at Chess to be expert,
For Games most thoughtful, sometimes, most divert.
Learn ev'ry Game, you'll find it prove of Use;
Parties begun at Play, may Love produce.
But, easier 'tis to learn how Bets to lay,
Than how to keep your Temper while you play.
Unguarded then, each Breast is open laid,
And while the Head's intent, the Heart's betray'd.

1027

Then, base Desire of Gain, then, Rage appears,
Quarrels and Brawls arise, and anxious Fears;
Then, Clamours and Revilings reach the Sky,
While losing Gamesters all the Gods defie.
Then horrid Oaths are utter'd ev'ry Cast;
They grieve, and curse, and storm, nay weep at last.
Good Jove avert such shameful Faults as these,
From ev'ry Nymph whose Heart's inclin'd to please.
Soft Recreations fit the Female-kind;
Nature, for Men, has rougher Sports design'd:
To wield the Sword, and hurl the pointed Spear;
To stop, or turn the Steed, in full Career.

Tho' Martial Fields ill sute your tender Frames,
Nor may you swim in Tiber's rapid Streams;
Yet when Sol's burning Wheels from Leo drive,
And at the glowing

The Poet means the Summer Season, when the Sun passes through Cancer, Leo, and Virgo.

Virgin's Sign arrive,
'Tis both allow'd, and fit, you shou'd repair
To pleasant Walks, and breathe refreshing Air.

1028

To Pompey's

These were the most noted Gardens in Rome, and in the Field of Mars.

Gardens, or the shady Groves
Which Cæsar honours, and which Phœbus loves:
Phœbus

'Tis said Phœbus descended at the Battel of Actium, and was present on the Romans side when Augustus beat Mark Anthony.

, who sunk the proud Ægyptian Fleet,
And made Augustus' Victory compleat.
Or seek those Shades, where Monuments of Fame
Are rais'd, to Livia's and

Octavia's Portico built near Marcellus's Theatre.

Octavia's Name;
Or, where

Agrippa marry'd Julia, Augustus's Daughter by Scribonia, and his Father-in-Law honour'd him with a Naval Crown after he beat Pompey in Sicily. One of the Porticos in Rome was built or nam'd by Agrippa.

Agrippa first adorn'd the Ground,
When he with Naval Victory was crown'd.
To Isis

Ovid gives us to understand, in his First Book of the Art of Love, that People frequented the Temple of Isis, on purpose to carry on their amorous Intreigues.

Fane, to Theatres resort;
And in the Circus see the noble Sport.
In ev'ry publick Place, by turns, be shown;
In vain you're Fair, while you remain unknown.
Should you, in singing,

Thamyras, the Son of Philammon, was a Poet, and one of the greatest Musicians of his time: Having gain'd the Prize of Singing at the Pythick Games, he met the Muses in his Return homewards, and had the Insolence to give them a Challenge, fancying he cou'd out-do them in that Art, at which the Daughters of Jupiter were so enraged that they deprived him of his Reason, or as Diodorus says they took from him his Voice, and his Art of playing on the Lute.

Thamyras transcend;
Your Voice unheard, who cou'd your Skill commend?
Had not

Apelles was for his great Skill call'd the Prince of Painters; his Masterpiece was reckon'd the Venus rising out of the Sea, of which Ovid speaks in this Place.

Apelles drawn the Sea-born Queen,
Her Beauties, still, beneath the Waves had been.

Poets inspir'd, write only for a Name,
And think their Labours well repay'd with Fame.

1029

In former Days, I own, the Poets were
Of Gods and Kings the most peculiar Care;
Majestick Awe was in the Name allow'd,
And, they, with rich Possessions were endow'd.
Ennius

Ennius was the first Roman that wrote Annals in Heroick Verse; his Subject was the Wars of Italy, and particularly the Second Punick War, which he did to compliment his Friend and Patron Scipio, in whose Tomb he was bury'd, and who placed the Poet's Statue near his own, which shows how highly he honour'd him.

with Honours was by Scipio grac'd,
And, next his own, the Poet's Statue plac'd.
But now their Ivy Crowns bear no Esteem,
And all their Learning's thought an idle Dream.
Still, there's a Pleasure, that proceeds from Praise:
What could the high Renown of Homer raise,
But that he sung his Iliad's deathless Lays?

Who could have been of

Danae, Daughter of Acrisius, King of Argos, who having consulted the Oracle, and being told he shou'd be kill'd by her Son, shut her up in a Brazen Tower to prevent it. But Jupiter transforming himself into a Golden Shower, brib'd her Keepers, and got her with Child; which, being born, was the renown'd Perseus. Her Father commanded both the Babe and his Mother to be thrown into the Sea; but being fortunately cast Ashoar on one of the Islands call'd Cyclades, the King of the Island marry'd the Mother; and Perseus, when he was grown up, unwittingly kill'd his Grandfather.

Danae's Charms assur'd,
Had she grown old, within her Tow'r immur'd?
This, as a Rule, let ev'ry Nymph pursue,
That 'tis her Int'rest oft to come in View.

A hungry Wolf at all the Herd will run,
In hopes, thro' many, to make sure of one.

1030

So, let the Fair the gazing Croud assail,
That over one, at least, she may prevail.
In ev'ry Place to please, be all her Thought;
Where, sometimes, least we think, the Fish is caught.
Sometimes, all Day, we hunt the tedious Foil,
Anon, the Stag himself shall seek the Toil.

How cou'd Andromeda once doubt Relief,
Whose Charms were heighten'd and adorn'd by Grief?
The widow'd Fair, who sees her Lord expire,
While yet she weeps, may kindle new Desire,
And Hymen's Torch re-light with fun'ral Fire.

Beware of Men who are too sprucely dress'd;
And look, you fly with speed a Fop profess'd.
Such Tools, to you, and to a thousand more,
Will tell the same dull Story o'er and o'er.
This way and that, unsteadily they rove,
And never fix'd, are Fugitives in Love.

1031

Such flutt'ring things all Women sure should hate,
Light, as themselves, and more Effeminate.
Believe me; all I say is for your Good;
Had

Priam, King of Troy, and Father of Paris, who stole Helen, was for restoring her to the Greeks when they demanded her by their Ambassadors; but other Councils prevailing, the War ensu'd, which ended in the Destruction of Troy, and the Death of Priam, who was kill'd by Pyrrhus, Son of Achilles, after forty Years Reign.

Priam been believ'd, Troy still had stood.

Many, with base Designs, will Passion feign,
Who know no Love, but sordid Love of Gain
But let not powder'd Heads, nor essenc'd Hair,
Your well-believing, easie Hearts ensnare.
Rich Cloaths are oft by common Sharpers worn,
And Diamond Rings fellonious Hands adorn.
So, may your Lover burn with fierce Desire
Your Jewels to enjoy, and best Attire.
Poor Cloe robb'd, runs crying thro' the Streets:
And as she runs, Give me my own, repeats.
How often,

The Temple of Venus stood in the Appian Way, and was much frequented by the intriguing Roman Ladies, who came thither to meet their Sparks.

Venus, hast thou heard such Cries,
And laugh'd amidst thy Appian Votaries?
Some so notorious are, their very Name
Must ev'ry Nymph whom they frequent, defame.

1032

Be warn'd by Ills, which, others have destroy'd,
And faithless Men with constant Care avoid.
Trust not a Theseus, fair Athenian Maid,
Who has so oft th'attesting Gods betray'd.
And thou, Demophoon, Heir to Theseus' Crimes,
Hast lost thy Credit to all future Times.

Promise for Promise, equally afford,
But once a Contract made, keep well your Word.
For, she for any Act of Hell is fit,
And, undismay'd, may Sacrilege commit;
With impious Hands cou'd quench the vestal Fire,
Poison her Husband, in her Arms, for Hire,
Who, first, to take a Lover's Gift complies,
And then defrauds him, and his Claim denies.

But hold, my Muse, check thy unruly Horse,
And more in sight pursue th'intended Course.

If Love Epistles, tender Lines impart,
And Billet-doux are sent, to sound your Heart,

1033

Let all such Letters, by a faithful Maid,
Or Confident, be secretly convey'd.
Soon from the Words you'll judge, if read with Care,
When feign'd a Passion is, and when sincere.
E'er in return you write, some time, require;
Delays, if not too long, encrease Desire:
Nor let the pressing Youth with ease obtain,
Nor yet refuse him with too rude Disdain.
Now, let his Hopes, now, let his Fears encrease,
But by degrees, let Fear to Hope give place.

Besure avoid set Phrases, when you write,
The usual way of Speech is more Polite.
How have I seen the puzzl'd Lover vex'd,
To read a Letter with hard Words perplex'd!
A Stile too course, takes from a handsome Face,
And makes us wish an uglier in its place.

But since (tho' Chastity be not your Care)
You from your Husband still wou'd hide th'Affair,

1034

Write to no Stranger 'till his Truth be try'd;
Nor in a foolish Messenger confide.
What Agonies that Woman undergoes,
Whose Hand the Traitor threatens to expose;
Who rashly trusting, dreads to be deceiv'd,
And lives for ever to that Dread enslav'd!
Such Treachery can never be surpass'd,
For those Discov'ries, sure as Light'ning, blast.
Might I advise, Fraud shou'd with Fraud be paid;
Let Arms repel all who with Arms invade.

But since your Letters may be brought to Light,
What, if in sev'ral Hands, you learn'd to write?
My Curse on him who first the Sex betray'd,
And this Advice so necessary made.
Nor let your Pocket-Book two Hands contain,
First, rub your Lover's out, then, write again.
Still one Contrivance more remains behind,
Which you may use as a convenient Blind;

1035

As if to Women writ, your Letters frame,
And let your Friend, to you subscribe a Female Name.

Now, greater things to tell, my Muse prepare,
And clap on all the Sail the Barque can bear.
Let no rude Passions in your Looks find place;
For Fury will deform the finest Face:
It swells the Lips, and blackens all the Veins,
While in the Eye a Gorgon Horror reigns.

When on her Flute divine

Minerva playing on her Flute by a River side, and observing in the Water what Grimaces it obliged her to make, flung away the Instrument in a Passion.

Minerva play'd,
And in a Fountain saw the Change it made,
Swelling her Cheek: She flung it quick aside;
Nor is thy Musick so much worth, she cry'd.
Look in your Glass, when you with Anger glow,
And you'll confess, you scarce your selves can know.
Nor with excessive Pride insult the Sight,
For gentle Looks, alone, to Love invite.
Believe it as a Truth that's daily try'd,
There's nothing more detestable than Pride.

1036

How have I seen some Airs Disgust create,
“Like things which by Antipathy we hate!
Let Looks with Looks, and Smiles with Smiles be paid,
And when your Lover bows, incline your Head.
So, Love preluding, plays at first with Hearts,
And after wounds with deeper piercing Darts.
Nor me a melancholy Mistress charms;
Let sad

Tecmessa, the Daughter of Teuthrantes a Phrygian Prince, was taken Prisoner by the Grecians, and fell to Ajax his Lot, upon the Division of the Spoil.

Tecmessa weep in Ajax' Arms.
Let mourning Beauties, sullen Heroes move;
We chearful Men, like Gaiety in Love.
Let Hector in Andromache delight,
Who, in bewailing Troy, wastes all the Night.
Had they not both born Children (to be plain)
I ne'er cou'd think they'd with their Husbands lain.
I no Idea in my Mind can frame,
That either one or t'other doleful Dame,
Cou'd toy, cou'd fondle, or cou'd call their Lords
My Life, my Soul; or speak endearing Words.

1037

Why, from Comparisons should I refrain,
Or, fear small things by greater to explain?
Observe what Conduct prudent Gen'rals use,
And how their sev'ral Officers they chuse;
To one, a Charge of Infantry commit,
Another, for the Horse, is thought more fit.
So you your sev'ral Lovers should select,
And, as you find 'em qualify'd, direct.
The wealthy Lover store of Gold should send;
The Lawyer should, in Courts, your Cause defend.
We, who write Verse, with Verse alone should bribe;
Most apt to Love is all the tuneful Tribe.
By us, your Fame shall thro' the World be blaz'd;
So

These are Names the Roman Poets of those times gave their Mistresses in their Verses.

Nemesis, so Cynthia's Name was rais'd.
From East to West, Lycoris Praises ring;
Nor are Corrinna's silent, whom we sing.
No Fraud, the Poet's sacred Breast can bear;
Mild are his Manners, and his Heart sincere.
Nor Wealth he seeks, nor feels Ambition's Fires,
But shuns the Bar; and Books and Shades requires.

1038

Too faithfully, alas! we know to Love,
With Ease we fix, but we with Pain remove;
Our softer Studies with our Souls combine,
And, both, to Tenderness our Hearts incline.
Be gentle, Virgins, to the Poet's Pray'r,
The God that fills him, and the Muse revere;
Something Divine is in us, and from Heav'n
Th'inspiring Spirit can alone be giv'n.
'Tis Sin, a Price from Poets to exact;
But 'tis a Sin no Woman fears to act.
Yet hide, howe'er, your Avarice from Sight,
Lest you too soon your new Admirer fright.

As skilful Riders, rein, with diff'rent force,
A new-back'd Courser, and a well-train'd Horse;
Do you, by diff'rent Management, engage
The Man in Years, and Youth of greener Age.
This, while the Wiles of Love are yet unknown,
Will gladly cleave to you, and you alone:

1039

With kind Caresses oft indulge the Boy,
And all the Harvest of his Heat enjoy.
Alone, thus bless'd, of Rivals most beware;
Nor Love, nor Empire, can a Rival bear.
Men more discreetly love, when more mature,
And many things, which Youth disdains, endure;
No Windows break, nor Houses set on Fire,
Nor tear their own, or Mistresses Attire.
In Youth, the boiling Blood gives Fury vent,
But, Men in Years, more calmly Wrongs resent.
As Wood when green, or as a Torch when wet,
They slowly burn, but long retain their Heat.
More bright is youthful Flame, but sooner dies;
Then, swiftly seize the Joy that swiftly flies.

Thus, all betraying to the beauteous Foe,
How, surely to enslave our selves, we show.
To trust a Traitor, you'll no Scruple make,
Who is a Traitor only for your sake.

1040

Who yields too soon, will soon her Lover lose;
Wou'd you retain him long, then, long refuse.
Oft, at your Door, make him for Entrance wait,
There let him lye, and threaten and entreat.
When cloy'd with Sweets, Bitters the Taste restore;
Ships, by fair Winds, are sometimes run ashore.
Hence springs the Coldness of a marry'd Life,
The Husband, when he pleases, has his Wife.
Bar but your Gate, and let your Porter cry
Here's no Admittance, Sir; I must deny:
The very Husband, so repuls'd, will find
A growing Inclination to be kind.

Thus far, with Foils you've fought; those laid aside,
I, now, sharp Weapons for the Sex provide;
Nor doubt, against my self, to see 'em try'd.

When, first, a Lover you design to charm,
Beware, lest Jealousies his Soul allarm;

1041

Make him believe, with all the Skill you can,
That he, and only he's the happy Man.
Anon, by due degrees, small Doubts create,
And let him fear some Rival's better Fate.
Such little Arts make Love its Vigour hold,
Which, else wou'd languish, and too soon grow old.
Then, streins the Courser to out-strip the Wind,
When one before him runs, and one he hears behind.
Love, when extinct, Suspicions may revive;
I own, when mine's secure, 'tis scarce alive.
Yet, one Precaution to this Rule belongs;
Let us at most suspect, not prove our Wrongs.
Sometimes, your Lover to incite the more,
Pretend, your Husband's Spies beset the Door:
Tho' free as

Thais was a Name given to all sort of Women of a lewd Character, who however affect Discretion.

Thais, still affect a Fright;
For, seeming Danger heightens the Delight.
Oft let the Youth in thro' your Window steal,
Tho' he might enter at the Door as well;
And, sometimes, let your Maid Surprize pretend,
And beg you, in some Hole to hide your Friend.

1042

Yet, ever and anon, dispel his Fear,
And let him taste of Happiness sincere;
Lest, quite dishearten'd with too much Fatigue,
He shou'd grow weary of the dull Intrigue.

But I forget to tell, how you may try
Both to evade the Husband, and the Spy.

That Wives shou'd of their Husbands stand in Awe,
Agrees with Justice, Modesty, and Law:
But, that a Mistress may be lawful Prize,
None, but her Keeper, I am sure, denies.
For such fair Nymphs, these Precepts are design'd,
Which ne'er can fail, join'd with a willing Mind.
Tho' stuck with

Argus had an hundred Eyes, and kept Iö from Jupiter by Juno's Order, for which Mercury kill'd him by Command of his Father Jove; to make him amends, Juno turn'd him into a Peacock, and placed his Eyes in his Tail.

Argus' Eyes your Keeper were,
Advis'd by me, you shall elude his Care.

When you to wash or bathe retire from Sight,
Can he observe what Letters then you write?

1043

Or, can his Caution against such provide,
Which, in her Breast, your Confident may hide?
Can he the Note beneath her Garter view,
Or that, which, more conceal'd, is in her Shoe?
Yet, these perceiv'd, you may her Back undress,
And, writing on her Skin, your Mind express.
New Milk, or pointed Spires of Flax, when green,
Will Ink supply, and Letters mark unseen.
Fair will the Paper show, nor can be read,
'Till all the Writing's with warm Ashes spread.

Acrisius was with all his Care, betray'd;
And in his Tow'r of Brass, a Grandsire made.

Can Spies avail, when you to Plays resort,
Or in the Circus view the noble Sport?
Or, can you be to Isis Fane pursu'd,
Or Cybelle's, whose Rites all Men exclude?
Tho' watchful Servants to the Bagnio come,
They're ne'er admitted to the Bathing-room.

1044

Or, when some sudden Sickness you pretend,
May you not take to your Sick-bed a Friend?
False Keys a private Passage may procure,
If not, there are more Ways besides the Door.
Sometimes, with Wine, your watchful Follow'r treat;
When drunk, you may with ease his Care defeat:
Or, to prevent too sudden a Surprise,
Prepare a sleeping Draught, to seal his Eyes:
Or let your Maid, still longer time to gain,
An Inclination for his Person feign;
With faint Resistance let her drill him on,
And, after competent Delays, be won.

But, what need all these various doubtful Wiles,
Since Gold the greatest Vigilance beguiles?
Believe me, Men and Gods with Gifts are pleas'd;
Ev'n angry Jove with Off'rings is appeas'd.
With Presents, Fools and Wise alike are caught,
Give but enough, the Husband may be bought.

1045

But let me warn you, when you bribe a Spy,
That you for ever his Connivance buy;
Pay him his Price at once, for with such Men
You'll know no End of giving now and then.

Once, I remember, I with Cause complain'd,
Of Jealousie occasion'd by a Friend.
Believe me, Apprehensions of that kind,
Are not alone to our false Sex confin'd.
Trust not too far, your She-Companion's Truth,
Lest she sometimes shou'd intercept the Youth:
The very Confident that lends the Bed,
May entertain your Lover, in your stead.
Nor keep a Servant with too fair a Face,
For such I've known supply her Lady's Place.

But, whither do I run with heedless Rage,
Teaching the Foe unequal War to wage?
Did ever Bird the Fowler's Net prepare?
Was ever Hound instructed by the Hare?

1046

But all Self-ends and Int'rest set apart,
I'll faithfully proceed to teach my Art.
Defenceless and unarm'd expose my Life,
And for the

The Poet alludes here to those wicked Women who rose against the Men, and did not spare their own Husbands.

Lemnian Ladies, whet the Knife.

Perpetual Fondness of your Lover feign,
Nor will you find it hard, Belief to gain;
Full of himself, he your Design will aid:
To what we wish, 'tis easie to persuade.
With dying Eyes, his Face and Form survey,
Then, sigh, and wonder he so long cou'd stay:
Now, drop a Tear, your Sorrows to asswage,
Anon, reproach him, and pretend to rage.
Such Proofs as these, will all Distrust remove,
And make him pity your excessive Love.
Scarce to himself will he forbear to cry,
How can I let this poor fond Creature die?
But chiefly, one, such fond Behaviour fires,
Who courts his Glass, and his own Charms admires.

1047

Proud of the Homage to his Merit done,
He'll think a Goddess might with ease be won.

Light Wrongs, be sure, you still with Mildness bear,
Nor strait fly out, when you a Rival fear.
Let not your Passions o'er your Sense prevail,
Nor credit lightly ev'ry idle Tale.
Let Procris Fate, a sad Example be
Of what Effects attend Credulity.

Near, where his purple Head Hymettus shows
And flow'ring Hills, a sacred Fountain flows;
With soft and verdant Turf the Soil is spread,
And sweetly-smelling Shrubs the Ground o'er-shade.
There, Rosemary and Bays, their Odours join,
And with the fragrant Myrtle's Scent, combine.
There, Tamarisks with thick-leav'd Box are found,
And Cytissus, and Garden Pines, abound.

1048

While thro' the Boughs, soft Winds of Zephyr pass,
Tremble the Leaves, and tender tops of Grass.
Hither, wou'd Cephalus retreat to rest,
When tir'd with Hunting, or with Heat opprest:
And, thus, to Air, the panting Youth wou'd pray,
Come, gentle Aura, come, this Heat allay.
But some Tale-bearing too officious Friend,
By chance, o'er-heard him as he thus complain'd;
Who, with the News to Procris quick repair'd,
Repeating Word for Word what she had heard.
Soon as the Name of Aura reach'd her Ears,
With Jealousie surpriz'd, and fainting Fears,
Her rosie Colour fled her lovely Face,
And Agonies like Death, supply'd the place;
Pale she appear'd as are the falling Leaves,
When first the Vine the Winter's blast receives.
Of ripen'd Quinces, such the yellow Hue,
Or, when unripe, we Cornel-berries view.
Reviving from her Swoon, her Robes she tore,
Nor her own faultless Face to wound, forbore.

1049

Now, all dishevell'd, to the Wood she flies,
With

The Priestesses and Priests of Bacchus, who celebrated the Festival of that God, did it with the Noise of Shouts, Drums, Timbrels and Cymbals, were crown'd with Ivy, Vine, &c. and carry'd a Thyrsus or Staff wreath'd with it in their Hands; they were frantick and outragious in their Actions during this Ceremony.

Bacchanalian Fury in her Eyes.
Thither arriv'd, she leaves, below, her Friends;
And, all alone, the shady Hill ascends.
What Folly, Procris, o'er thy Mind prevail'd?
What Rage, thus, fatally, to lye conceal'd?
Whoe'er this Aura be (such was thy Thought)
She, now shall in the very Fact be caught.
Anon, thy Heart repents its rash Designs,
And now to go, and now to stay inclines:
Thus, Love, with Doubts perplexes still thy Mind,
And makes thee seek, what thou must dread to find.
But still thy Rival's Name rings in thy Ears,
And more suspicious still the Place appears:
But more than all, excessive Love deceives,
Which, all it fears, too easily believes.

And, now, a Chilness run thro' ev'ry Vein,
Soon as she saw where Cephalus had lain.

1050

'Twas Noon, when he again retir'd, to shun
The scorching Ardour of the Mid-day Sun;
With Water, first, he sprinkled o'er his Face,
Which glow'd with Heat; then sought his usual Place.
Procris, with anxious but with silent Care,
View'd him extended, with his Bosom bare;
And heard him, soon, th'accustom'd Words repeat,
Come Zephyr, Aura come, allay this Heat:
Soon as she found her Error, from the Word,
Her Colour and her Temper were restor'd.
With Joy she rose, to clasp him in her Arms:
But, Cephalus, the rustling Noise alarms;
Some Beast, he thinks, he in the Bushes hears,
And strait, his Arrows and his Bow prepares.
Hold! hold! unhappy Youth!—I call in vain,
With thy own Hand thou hast thy Procris slain.
Me, me, (she crys) thou'st wounded with thy Dart!
But Cephalus was wont to wound this Heart.
Yet, lighter on my Ashes, Earth will lye,
Since, tho' untimely, I unrival'd die:

1051

Come, close with thy dear Hand my Eyes in Death,
Jealous of Air, to Air I yield my Breath.
Close to his heavy Heart, her Cheek he laid,
And wash'd, with streaming Tears, the Wound he made;
At length, the Springs of Life their Currents leave,
And her last Gasp, her Husband's Lips receive.

Now, to pursue our Voyage we must provide,
'Till, safe to Port our weary Bark we guide.

You may expect, perhaps, I now shou'd teach
What Rules, to Treats and Entertainments reach.
Come not the first, invited to a Feast;
Rather, come last, as a more grateful Guest.
For, that, of which we fear to be depriv'd,
Meets with the surest Welcome, when arriv'd.
Besides, Complexions of a courser kind,
From Candle-light, no small Advantage find.

1052

During the time you eat, observe some Grace,
Nor let your unwip'd Hands besmear your Face;
Nor, yet, too squeamishly your Meat avoid,
Lest we suspect you were in private cloy'd.
Of all Extreams in either kind, beware,
And still, before your Belly's full, forbear.
No Glutton Nymph, however Fair, can wound,
Tho' more than Hellen she in Charms abound.

I own, I think, of Wine the moderate use,
More suits the Sex, and sooner finds Excuse;
It warms the Blood, adds Lustre to the Eyes,
And Wine and Love have always been Allies.
But, carefully from all Intemp'rance keep,
Nor drink 'till you see double, lisp, or sleep.
For in such Sleeps, Brutalities are done,
Which, tho' you loath, you have no Pow'r to shun.

And now th'instructed Nymph from Table led,
Shou'd next be taught, how to behave in Bed.

1053

But Modesty forbids: Nor more, my Muse
With weary Wings, the labour'd Flight pursues;
Her purple

By this Ovid shews he's both a Poet and a Lover, for the Swans are dedicated to Apollo, and are said to draw Venus's Car sometimes, tho' the Doves are oftenest us'd upon that Occasion.

Swans unyoak'd, the Chariot leave,
And needful Rest (their Journey done) receive.

Thus, with impartial Care, my Art I show,
And equal Arms, on either Sex bestow:
While Men and Maids, who by my Rules improve,
Ovid, must own, their Master is in Love.

University of Virginia Library

OVID's Third Book OF THE ART of LOVE.

WHEREIN He recommends Rules and Instructions to the Fair Sex, in the Conduct of their Amours: After having already composed two Books for the Use of Men, upon the same Subject.