Art of Love
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The sounding cymbals rattled on the shore.
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She swoons for fear, she falls upon the ground;
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No vital heat was in her body found.
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The Mimallonian dames about her stood,
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And scudding satyrs ran before their god.
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Silenus on his ass did next appear,
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And held upon the mane (the god was clear).
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The drunken sire pursues, the dames retire;
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Sometimes the drunken dames pursue the drunken sire.
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At last he topples over on the plain;
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The satyrs laugh, and bid him rise again.
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And now the god of wine came driving on,
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High on his chariot by swift tigers drawn.
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Her colour, voice, and sense forsook the fair;
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Thrice did her trembling limbs for flight prepare,
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And thrice affrighted did her flight forbear.
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She shook like leaves of corn when tempests blow,
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Or slender reeds that in the marshes grow.
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To whom the god-" Compose thy fearful mind;
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In me a truer husband thou shalt find.
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With heav'n I will endow thee, and thy star
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Shall with propitious light be seen afar,
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And guide on seas the doubtful mariner."
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He said; and from his chariot leaping light,
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Lest the grim tigers should the nymph affright,
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His brawny arms around her waist he threw,
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(For gods whate'er they please with ease can do,)
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And swiftly bore her thence; th' attending throng
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Shout at the sight, and sing the nuptial song.
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Now in full bowls her sorrow she may steep;
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The bridegroom's liquor lays the bride asleep.
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But thou, when flowing cups in triumph ride,
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And the lov'd nymph is seated by thy side,
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Invoke the god and all the mighty powers,
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That wine may not defraud thy genial hours.
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Then in ambiguous words thy suit prefer,
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Which she may know were all address'd to her.
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In liquid purple letters write her name,
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Which she may read, and reading find the flame.
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Then may your eyes confess your mutual fires,
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(For eyes have tongues, and glances tell desires ;)
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Whene'er she drinks, be first to take the cup;
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And where she laid her lips, the blessing sup.
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When she to carving does her hand advance,
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Put out thy own, and touch it as by chance.
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Thy service e'en the husband must attend;
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(A husband is a most convenient friend.)
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Seat the fool cuckold in the highest place,
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And with thy garland his dull temples grace'
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Whether below or equal in degree,
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Let him be lord of all the company,
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And what he says be seconded by thee.
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Tis common to deceive thro' friendship's name,
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But common though it be, 'tis still to blame;
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Thus factors frequently their trust betray,
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And to themselves their masters' gains convey.
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Drink to a certain pitch, and then give o'er;
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Thy tongue and feet may stumble, drinking more.
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Of drunken quarrels in her sight beware;
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Pot valour only serves to fright the fair.
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Eurytion justly fell, by wine oppress't,
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For his rude riot at a wedding-feast.
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Sing, if you have a voice; and shew your parts
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In dancing, if endu'd with dancing arts.
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Do anything within your power to please;
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Nay, e'en affect a seeming drunkenness;
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Clip every word; and if by chance you speak
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Too home, or if too broad a jest you break,
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In your excuse the company will join,
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And lay the fault upon the force of wine.
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True drunkenness is subject to offend,
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But when 'tis feign'd 'tis oft a lover's friend:
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Then safely you may praise her beauteous face,
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And call him happy who is in her grace;
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Her husband thinks himself the man design'd,
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But curse the cuckold in your secret mind.
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When all are risen and prepar'd to go,
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Mix with the crowd and tread upon her toe;
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This is the proper time to make thy court,
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For now she's in the vein, and fit for sport.
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Lay bashfulness, that rustic virtue, by;
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To manly confidence thy thoughts apply.
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On fortune's foretop timely fix thy hold;
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Now speak and speed. for Venus loves the bold.
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No rules of rhetoric here I need afford;
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Only begin, and trust the following word:
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It will be witty of its own accord.
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Act well the lover; let thy speech abound
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In dying words, that represent thy wound;
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Distrust not her belief; she will be mov'd:
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All women think they merit to be lov'd.
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Sometimes a man begins to love in jest,
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And after feels the torment he possess't.
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For your own sakes be pitiful, ye fair,
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For a feign'd passion may a true prepare.
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By flatteries we prevail on womankind,
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As hollow banks by streams are undermin'd:
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Tell her her face is fair, her eyes are sweet;
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Her taper fingers praise, and little feet.
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Such praises e'en the chaste are pleas'd to hear;
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Perseus Latin. CTS URN phi0959.phi004.perseus-eng2. Via the Perseus Digital Library / Open Greek and Latin TEI corpora. Licence: CC BY-SA 4.0. Source.