Rejoice, ve Roman soldiers, in your urn;
Your ensigns from the Parthians shall return;
And the slain Crassi shall no longer mourn.
A youth is sent those trophies to demand;
And bears his father's thunder in his hand :
Doubt not th' imperial boy in wars unseen;
In childhood all of Cæsar's race are men.
Celestial seeds shoot out before their day,
Prevent their years, and brook no dull delay.
Thus infant Hercules the snakes did press,
And in his cradle did his sire confess.
Bacchus, a boy, yet like a hero fought,
And carly spoils from conquer'd India brought.
Thus you your father's troops shall lead to fight,
And thus shall vanquish in your father's right.
These rudiments to you your lineage owe;
Born to increase your titles, as you grow,
Brethren you had, revenge your brethren slain;
You have a father, and his rights maintain.
Arm'd by your country's parent and your own,
Redeem your country, and restore his throne.
Your enemies assert an impious cause ;
You fight both for divine and human laws.
Already in their cause they are o'ercome:
Subject them too, by force of arms, to Rome.
Great father Mars with greater Cæsar join,
To give a prosperous omen to your line:
One of you is, and one shall be divine.
1 prophesy you shall, you shall o'ercome:
My verse shall bring you back in triumph home.
Speak in my verse, exhort to loud alarms:
O were my numbers equal to your arms!
Then would I sing the Parthians overthrow;
Their shot averse sent from a flying bow:
The Parthians, who already flying fight,
Already give an omen of their flight.

O when will come the day, by Heaven design'd,
When thou, the best and fairest of mankind,
Drawn by white horses shalt in triumph ride,
With conquer'd slaves attending on thy side;
Slaves, that no longer can be safe in flight;
O glorious object, O surprising sight,
O day of public joy; too good to end in night!
On such a day, if thou, and, next to thee,
Some beauty sits, the spectacle to see:
If she inquire the names of conquer'd kings,
Of mountains, rivers, and their hidden springs,
Answer to all thou know'st; and, if need be,
Of things unknown seem to speak knowingly:
This is Euphrates, crown'd with reeds; and there
Flows the swift Tigris with his sea-green hair.
Invent new names of things unknown before;
Call this Armenia, that the Caspian shore;
Call this a Mede, and that a Parthian youth;
Talk probably: no matter for the truth.

In feasts, as at our shows, new means abound;
More pleasure there, than that of wine, is found.
The Paphian goddess there her ambush lays;
And Love betwixt the horns of Bacchus plays;
Desires increase at every swelling draught;
Brisk vapours add new vigour to the thought,
There Cupid's purple wings no flight afford;
But, wet with wine, he flutters on the board.
He shakes his pinions, but he cannot move;
Fix'd he remains, and turns a maudlin love.
Wine warms the blood, and makes the spirits
flow;

Care flies, and wrinkles from the forehead go:
Exalts the poor, invigorates the weak;
Gives mirth and laughter, and a rosy cheek,

Bold truths it speaks; and spoken, dares maintain;
And brings our old simplicity again.

Love sparkles in the cup, and fills it higher:
Wine feeds the flames, and fuel adds to fire.
But choose no mistress in thy drunken fit;
Wine gilds too much their beauties and their wit.
Nor trust thy judgment when the tapers dance;
But sober, and by day, thy suit advance.
By day-light Paris judg'd the beauteous three;
And for the, fairest did the prize decree.
Night is a cheat, and all deformities
Are hid or lessen'd in ber dark disguise.
The Sun's fair light each errour will confess,
In face, in shape, in jewels, and in dress.

Why name I every place where youths abound? 'Tis loss of time, and a too fruitful ground. The Baian baths, where ships at anchor ride, And wholesome streams from sulphur fountains glide;

Where wounded youths are by experience taught,
The waters are less healthful than they thought.
Or Dian's fane, which near the suburb lies,
Where priests, for their promotion, fight a prize.
That maiden goddess is Love's mortal foe,
And much from her his subjects undergo.

Thus far the sportful muse with myrtle bound,
Has sung where lovely lasses may be found.
Now let me sing, how she who wounds your mind,
With art, may be to cure your wounds inclin'd.
Young nobles, to my laws attention lend:
And all you vulgar of my school attend.

First then believe, all women may be won; Attempt with confidence, the work is done. The grasshopper shall first forbear to sing In summer season, or the birds in spring; Than women can resist your flattering skill: Ev'n she will yield, who swears she never will. To secret pleasure both the sexes move; But women most, who most dissemble love. "Twere best for us, if they would first declare, Avow their passion, and submit to prayer. The cow, by lowing, tells the bull her flame: The neighing mare invites her stallion to the game. Man is more temperate in his lust than they, And, more than women, can his passion sway. Biblis, we know, did first her love declare, And had recourse to death in her despair. Her brother she, her father Myrrha sought, And lov'd, but lov'd not as a daughter ought. Now from a tree she stills her odorous tears, Which yet the name of her who shed them bears. In Ida's shady vale a bull appear'd, White as the snow, the fairest of the herd; A beauty-spot of black there only rose, Betwixt his equal horns and ample brows: The love and wish of all the Cretan cows. The queen beheld him as his head he rear'd; And envy'd every leap he gave the herd. A secret fire she nourish'd in her breast, And hated every heifer he caress'd. A story known, and known for true, I tell; Nor Crete, though lying, can the truth conceal. She cut him grass (so much can Love command); She strok'd, she fed him with her royal hand: Was pleas'd in pastures with the herd to roam; And Minos by the bull was overcome. [brows;

Cease, queen, with gems t' adorn thy beauteous The monarch of thy heart no jewel knows. Nor in thy glass compose thy looks and eyes: Secure from all thy charms thy lover lies:

"Tis what I want, and 'tis a peu'orth too;
In many years I will not trouble you."
If you complain you have no ready coin;
No matter, 'tis but writing of a line,
A little bill, not to be paid at sight;
Now curse the time when thou wert taught to write.
She keeps her birth-day; you must send the cheer;
And she 'll be born a hundred times a year.
With daily lies she dribs thee into cost;
That ear-ring dropt a stone, that ring is lost.
They often borrow what they never pay;
Whate'er you lend her, think it thrown away.
Had I ten mouths and tongues to tell each art,
All would be wearied ere I told a part.

By letters, not by words, thy love begin;
And ford the dangerous passage with thy pen.
If to her heart thou aim'st to find the way,
Extremely flatter, and extremely pray.
Priam by prayers did Hector's body gain;
Nor is an angry god invok'd in vain.
With promis'd gifts her easy mind bewitch;
For ev'n the poor in promise may be rich.
Vain hopes awhile her appetite will stay;
'Tis a deceitful, but commodious way.
Who gives is mad; but make her still believe
"Twill come, and that's the cheapest way to give.
Ev'n barren lands fair promises afford;
But the lean harvest cheats the starving lord.
Buy not thy first enjoyment, lest it prove
Of bad example to thy future love:
But get it gratis; and she 'll give thee more,
For fear of losing what she gave before.
The losing gamester shakes the box in vain,
And bleeds, and loses on, in hopes to gain.

Write then, and in thy letter, as I said, Let her with mighty promises be fed. Cydippe by a letter was betray'd, Writ on an apple to th' unwary maid. She read herself into a marriage-vow (And every cheat in love the gods allow). Learn eloquence, ye noble youth of Rome; It will not only at the bar o'ercome: Sweet words the people and the senate move; But the chief end of eloquence is love. But in thy letter hide thy moving arts; Affect not to be thought a man of parts. None but vain fools to simple women preach: A learned letter oft has made a breach. In a familiar style your thoughts convey, And write such things as present you would say; Such words as from the heart may seem to move: 'Tis wit enough, to make her think you love. If seal'd she sends it back, and will not read, Yet hope, in time, the business may succeed. In time the steer will to the yoke submit; In time the restiff horse will bear the bit. Ev'n the hard plough-share use will wear away; And stubborn steel in length of time decay. Water is soft, and marble hard; and yet We see soft water through hard marble eat. Though late, yet Troy at length in flames expir'd; And ten years more Penelope had tir'd. Perhaps thy lines unanswer'd she retain'd; No matter; there's a point already gain'd: For she, who reads, in time will answer too; Things must be left by just degrees to grow. Perhaps she writes, but answers with disdain, And sharply bids you not to write again : What she requires, she fears you should accord; The jilt would not be taken at her word.

Meantime, if she be carried in her chair, Approach, but do not seem to know she's there. Speak softly to delude the standers-by; Or, if aloud, then speak ambiguously. If sauntering in the portico she walk, Move slowly too; for that's a time for talk: And sometimes follow, sometimes be her guide: But, when the crowd permits, go side by side. Nor in the play-house let her sit alone: For she 's the play-house and the play in one. There thou may'st ogle, or by signs advance Thy suit, and seem to touch her hand by chance. Admire the dancer who her liking gains, And pity in the play the lover's pains; For her sweet sake the loss of time despise; Sit while she sits, and when she rises rise. But dress not like a fop, nor curl your hair, Nor with a pumice make your body bare. Leave those effeminate and useless toys To eunuchs, who can give no solid joys. Neglect becomes a man: this Theseus found: Uncurl'd, uncomb'd, the nymph his wishes crown'd. The rough Hippolytus was Phædra's care: And Venus thought the rude Adonis fair. Be not too finical; but yet be clean: And wear well-fashion'd clothes, like other men. Let not your teeth be yellow, or be foul; Nor in wide shoes your feet too loosely roll. Of a black muzzle, and long beard, beware; And let a skilful barber cut your hair. Your nails be pick'd from filth, and even par'd; Nor let your nasty nostrils bud with beard. Cure your unsavory breath, gargle your throat; And free your armpits from the ram and goat. Dress not, in short, too little or too much; And be not wholly French, nor wholly Dutch.

Now Bacchus calls me to his jolly rites: Who would not follow, when a god invites? He helps the poet, and his pen inspires, Kind and indulgent to his former fires.

Fair Ariadne wander'd on the shore, Forsaken now; and Theseus lov'd no more: Loose was her gown, dishevell'd was her hair; Her bosom naked, and her feet were bare : Exclaiming, on the water's brink she stood; Her briny tears augment the briny flood. She shriek'd, and wept, and both became her face: No posture could that heavenly form disgrace. She beat her breast: "The traitor's gone," said

she;

"What shall become of poor forsaken me?
What shall become"-she had not time for more,
The sounding cymbals rattled on the shore.
She swoons for fear, she falls upon the ground;
No vital heat was in her body found.
The Mimallonian dames about her stood;
And scudding Satyrs ran before their god.
Silenus on his ass did next appear,

[sire.

And held upon the mane (the god was clear);
The drunken sire pursues, the dames retire;
Sometimes the drunken dames pursue the drunken
At last he topples over on the plain;
The Satyrs laugh, and bid him rise again.
And now the god of wine came driving on,
High on his chariot by swift tigers drawn.
Her colour, voice, and sense, forsook the fair;
Thrice did her trembling feet for flight prepare,
And thrice affrighted did her flight forbear.
She shook, like leaves of corn when tempests blow,
Or slender reeds that in the marshes grow.

To whom the god: "Compose thy fearful mind;
In me a truer husband thou shalt find.
With Heaven I will endow thee, and thy star
Shall with propitious light be seen afar,
And guide on seas the doubtful mariner."
He said, and, from his chariot leaping light,
Lest the grim tigers should the nymph affright,
His brawny arms around her waist he threw
(For gods, whate'er they will, with ease can do)
And swiftly bore her thence: th' attending throng
Shout at the sight, and sing the nuptial song.
Now in full bowls her sorrow she may steep:
The bridegroom's liquor lays the bride asleep.
But thou, when flowing cups in triumph ride,
And the lov'd nymph is seated by thy side;
Invoke the god, and all the mighty powers,
That wine may not defraud thy genial hours.
Then in ambiguous words thy suit prefer,
Which she may know were all addrest to her.
In liquid purple letters write her name,
Which she may read, and reading find the flame.
Then may your eyes confess your mutual fires
(For eyes have tongues, and glances tell desires).
Whene'er she drinks, be first to take the cup;
And, wh re she laid her lips, the blessing sup.
When she to carving does her hand advance,
Put out thy own, and touch it as by chance.
Thy service ev'n her husband must attend
(A husband is a most convenient friend).
Seat the fool cuckold in the highest place:
And with thy garland his dull temples grace.
Whether below or equal in degree,
Let him be lord of all the company,
And what he says, be seconded by thee.

'Tis common to deceive through friendship's

name:

But, common though it be, 'tis still to blame :
Thus factors frequently their trust betray,
And to themselves their masters' gains convey.
Drink to a certain pitch, and then give o'er;
Thy tongue and feet may stumble, drinking more.
Of drunken quarrels in her sight beware;
Pot-valour only serves to fright the fair.
Eurytion justly fell, by wine opprest,
For his rude riot at a wedding-feast.

Sing, if you have a voice; and show your parts
In dancing, if endued with dancing arts.
Do any thing within your power to please;
Nay, ev'n affect a seeming drunkenness;
Clip every word; and if by chance you speak
Too home, or if too broad a jest you break,
In your excuse the company will join,
And lay the fault upon the force of wine.
True drunkenness is subject to offend;
Bat when 'tis feign'd 'tis oft a lover's friend.
Then safely may you praise her beauteous face,
And call him happy, who is in her grace.
Her husband thinks himself the man design'd;
But curse the cuckold in your secret mind.
When all are risen, and prepare to go,
Mix with the croud, and tread upon her toe.
This is the proper time to make thy court;
For now she's in the vein, and fit for sport.
Lay bashfulness, tha rustic virtue, by;
To manly confidence thy thoughts apply.
On Fortune's foretop timely fix thy hold;
Now speak and speed, for Venus loves the bold.
No rules of rhetoric here I need afford:
Only begin, and trust the following word;
It will be witty of its own accord.

Act well the lover; let thy speech abound In dying words, that represent thy wound: Distrust not her belief; she will be mov'd; All women think they merit to be lov'd.

Sometimes a man begins to love in jest, And, after, feels the torment he profest. For your own sakes be pitiful, ye fair; For a feign'd passion may a true prepare. By flatteries we prevail on womankind; As hollow banks by streams are undermin'd. Tell her, her face is fair, her eyes are sweet: Her taper fingers praise, and little feet. Such praises ev'n the chaste are pleas'd to hear; Both maids and matrons hold their beauty dear.

Once naked Pallas with Jove's queen appear'd; And still they grieve that Venus was preferr'd. Praise the proud peacock, and he spreads his train: Be silent, and he pulls it in again. Pleas'd is the courser in his rapid race; Applaud his running, and he meuds his pace. But largely promise, and devoutly swear; And, if need be, call every god to hear. Jove sits above, forgiving with a smile The perjuries that easy maids beguile. He swore to Juno by the Stygian lake: Forsworn, he dares not an example make, Or punish falsehood for his own dear sake. 'Tis for our interest that the gods should be; Let us believe them: I believe, they see, And both reward and punish equally. Not that they live above, like lazy drones, Or kings below, supine upon their thrones. Lead then your lives as present in their sight; Be just in dealings, and defend the right; By fraud betray not, nor oppress by might. But 'tis a venial sin to cheat the fair; All men have liberty of conscience there. On cheating nymphs a cheat is well design'd; 'Tis a profane and a deceitful kind.

'Tis said, that Ægypt for nine years was dry, Nor Nile did floods, nor Heaven did rain supply. A foreigner at length inform'd the king, [bring. That slaughter'd guests would kindly moisture The king reply'd: "On thee the lot shall fall ; Be thou, my guest, the sacrifice for all." Thus Phalaris Perillus taught to low, And made him season first the brazen cow. A rightful doom, the laws of Nature cry, 'Tis the artificers of death should die. Thus justly women suffer by deceit; Their practice authorises us to cheat. Beg her, with tears, thy warm desires to grant ; For tears will pierce a heart of adamant. If tears will not be squeez'd, then rub your eye, Or 'noint the lids and seem at least to cry. Kiss, if you can: resistance if she make, And will not give you kisses, let her take. "Fy, fy, you naughty man!" are words of course; She struggles but to be subdued by force. Kiss only soft, I charge you, and beware, With your hard bristles not to brush the fair. He who has gain'd a kiss, and gains no more, Deserves to lose the bliss he got before. If once she kiss, her meaning is exprest; There wants but little pushing for the rest: Which if thou dost not gain, by strength or art, The name of clown then suits with thy desert; 'Tis downright dulness, and a shameful part. Perhaps, she calls it force; but, if she 'scape, She will not thank you for th' omitted rape.