Art of Love

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 vixen 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 sentinels before her dressing-room;

Or in the fane of the good goddess dress,

Where all the male kind are debarr'd access.

'Tis said that I (but 'tis a tale devis'd)

A lady at her toilet once surpris'd,

Who starting, snatch'd in haste the tour she wore,

And in her hurry placed 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 leafless tree, or an unverdant mead,

And as ungraceful is a hairless head.

But think not these instructions are design'd

For first-rate beauties of the finish'd kind;

Not to a Semele, or a Leda bright,

Nor an 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:

What lover or what husband would not fight

In such a cause, where both are in the right?

The crowd 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 lies,

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 lies,

Let length of petticoats conceal her size.

The lean of thick wrought stuff her clothes should choose,

And fuller made than what the plumper use.

If pale, let her the crimson juice apply;

If swarthy, to the Pharian varnish fly.

A leg too lank tight garters still must wear,

Nor should an ill-shap'd foot be ever bare.

Round shoulders, bolster'd, will appear the least;

And lacing straight 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'd 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 long 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.

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 end;

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 Umbrian's sturdy spouse,

Strides all the space her petticoats allows.

Between extremes, in this, a mean adjust,

Nor show too nice a gait, nor too robust.

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, 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