E-text prepared by Sankar Viswanathan, Delphine Lettau, Joseph Cooper, and
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The Augustan Reprint Society
_HENRY FIELDING_
THE LOVERS ASSISTANT, OR, NEW ART OF LOVE
(1760)
Edited, with an
Introduction by
Claude E. Jones
Publication Number 89
William Andrews Clark Memorial Library
University of California
Los Angeles
1961
* * * * *
GENERAL EDITORS
Richard C. Boys, _University of Michigan_
Ralph Cohen, _University of California, Los Angeles_
Vinton A. Dearing, _University of California, Los Angeles_
Lawrence Clark Powell, _Clark Memorial Library_
ASSISTANT EDITOR
W. Earl Britton, _University of Michigan_
ADVISORY EDITORS
Emmett L. Avery, _State College of Washington_
Benjamin Boyce, _Duke University_
Louis Bredvold, _University of Michigan_
John Butt, _University of Edinburgh_
James L. Clifford, _Columbia University_
Arthur Friedman, _University of Chicago_
Louis A. Landa, _Princeton University_
Samuel H. Monk, _University of Minnesota_
Ernest C. Mossner, _University of Texas_
James Sutherland, _University College, London_
H.T. Swedenberg, Jr., _University of California, Los Angeles_
CORRESPONDING SECRETARY
Edna C. Davis, _Clark Memorial Library_
* * * * *
INTRODUCTION
The publishing history of this translation has been sketched by Cross,
in his _History of Henry Fielding_, and may simply be summarized here.
The first edition, entitled _Ovid's Art of Love Paraphrased and
Adapted to the Present Time_ (or _Times_) was first issued in
February, 1747, and was advertised in the _Gentleman's_ and _Scots_
Magazines in that month. During March, further advertisements appeared
in the _London Magazine_ and the _St. James Evening Post_. The most
extensive notice ran, however, in Fielding's own _Jacobite Journal_
(No. 15), where it served as basis for a detailed comparison between
the art of love and the art of Jacobitism. Of this 1747 anonymous,
original edition no copy is known.
In 1759, the work was reissued in London and Dublin, under the title
_The Lover's Assistant_, and again in London in 1760. Meanwhile,
advertisements for the original edition, as by Henry Fielding, had
been run by the publisher, Andrew Millar, in 1754 and 1758. Inasmuch
as Millar apparently still had unsold sheets in 1758, the 1759 edition
may comprise these sheets with new title pages and prefatory matter
necessary because of Fielding's death in 1754. At any rate, the
"modern instances" referred to by the author of the 1759 Preface are
not too modern to have been written in 1747. There has been no reprint
since 1760.
The present text is printed from the 1760 edition, collated with a
copy of the 1759 issue. The Latin text, which in the original faces
the English, is omitted. Notes keyed by letters and asterisks appear
in the original; it will be noted that Fielding's notes combine
scholarly and facetious remarks; he frequently used footnotes for
comic effect, especially in the translation of the _Plutus_ of
Aristophanes in which he collaborated.
Literature affords few pleasures so satisfying as translations done by
those who are not only expert in the languages concerned, but who also
are of the same spirit as the authors they translate. Some examples
come readily to mind: Pope's Horace, Dryden's Juvenal and Persius,
Smollett's LeSage, Lang's _Aucassin and Nicolette_, and Pound's
translations from Provencal. Such a felicitous combination appears in
Henry Fielding's translation of Book I of Ovid's _Ars Amoris_.
Throughout the sixteenth and seventeenth centuries, English
translators of the classics abounded, including Marlowe, Jonson,
Chapman and Sandys; Roscommon, Waller, Denham, Cowley and Dryden. By
1700, the major kinds of translation had been differentiated,
described, evaluated and practised.
To summarize, Dryden wrote as follows in his Preface to the 1680
edition of _Ovid's Epistles_, Translated by Several Hands:
All translation I suppose may be reduced to these three
heads:
First, that of Metaphrase, or turning an Author word by
word, and line by line, from one language to another.... The
second way is that of Paraphrase, or Translation with
Latitude, where the Author is kept in view by the
Translator, so as never to be lost, but his words are not so
strictly follow'd as his sense, and that too is admitted to
be amplyfied, but not alter'd.... The Third way is that of
Imitation, where the Translator (if now [i.e. by taking such
liberties] he has not lost that name) assumes the liberty
not only to vary from the words and sence, but to forsake
them both as he sees occasion: and taking only some general
hints from the Original, to run division on the ground-work,
as he pleases....
Doubtless, he refers to the translation of verse into verse, but
actually verse-into-prose also falls within Dryden's "third way." When
the author of the Preface to _The Lover's Assistant_ speaks of it as
an "undertaking" in translation, he means prose imitation, or
paraphrase of verse.
Earlier, in the 1743 _Miscellanies_, Fielding had published "Part of
Juvenal's Sixth Satire Modernized in Burlesque [i.e. Hudibrastic]
Verse." The modernization, as in his _Art of Love_, was of place
(England instead of Italy) as well as time, and allowed the author to
satirize some of his contemporaries, as well as the customs of his own
age.
When, four years later, he turned to the first book of Ovid's _Artis
Amatoriae_, he found prose an even better medium for "Imitation," or
"Modernization." The result is a most enjoyable _pot pourri_ of Roman
mythology and eighteenth century social customs, combined with some of
the patriotism left over from Fielding's anti-Jacobinism during the
Forty-Five. His devotion to, and constant use of, the classics has
excited comment from every Fielding biographer since his own time. His
works abound in classical instances, references and imitations; and
most of his writing includes translations from Greek or Roman authors.
His library, as Austin Dobson observed, was rich in editions of the
classics.
Curiously, the sale catalogue lists only one, unidentifiable, Ovid
item, as contrasted with 5 editions of Horace, 9 of Lucian and 13
(between 1504 and 1629) of Aristotle. This probably means that, along
with other unlisted works known to have been in his possession, his
Ovid was retained by his family or given to a friend. Dryden's
translation of Book One of the _Ars Amoris_ is included among
Fielding's books, however, and Cross suggests that Fielding "kept one
eye" on it. It is surprising how much visualization there is in his
imitation. Many of the incidents resemble those treated by Hogarth,
with whom by 1747 Fielding was on excellent terms. There is also some
resemblance in his contemporaneous materials, or modernization, to
scenes in Fielding's own later plays, and in his novels.
PREFACE
_This Work was begun many Years ago, though altered in some Places by
the Author, before his Death; as will appear by the modern Instances
introduced in it. Many of which being so applicable to the present
Time, is the Occasion of it being now published._
_As to any Exception which may be made to the Impurity of this Work,
we shall transcribe what was written long ago in its Defence, from the
Preface prefixed to Mr. _Dryden_'s Translation of this Poem._
'A great many People are mistaken in these Books; and tho' they were
made use of as a Pretence to drive the Author from the Court of
_Augustus_, and confine him to _Tomos_ on the Frontiers of the _Getae_
and _Sarmatae_, yet they were not the true Cause of his Confinement.
They are very far from being so licentious as the Writings of several
other Poets, both _Greek_ and _Latin_. However we must own he might
have been a little more discreet, especially in some Places[A].
[Note A: He means in the other two Books.]
'That which offended the _Romans_ most in this Work, cannot touch us.
It has always been more dangerous in _Italy_ to converse with Women of
Honour, and frequent their Houses, than 'tis with us; where there is
more Liberty, and what in that Country may be an Occasion of
Debauchery, would not at all be so in ours.
'Notwithstanding all that has been said against these Books _of the
Art of Love_, by some over-scrupulous Persons, whose Discretion has
too much of Affectation in it: they are not only necessary for the
Knowledge of the _Latin_ Tongue, and the _Roman_ History, concerning
which they contain several Things very particular; but for the noble
Sentiments we find in them, which the _Gravest_ and _Learnedest_
Writers have thought worthy to be quoted for _Authorities_.
'In a Word, there's nothing in them that comes near the _Licence_ of
some _Epigrams_ of _Catullus_, _Martial_, and _Ausonius_, of some
_Satires_ of _Horace_ and _Juvenal_, and several other Pieces of
_Ancient_ and _Modern_ Authors, which are read and commented upon; and
about which even celebrated _Jesuits_ and other religious Persons, as
eminent for their Piety as their Erudition, have employed their
Studies. Yet who has condemn'd or complain'd of them? We must confess,
such Things should be managed with Address; and those of them who have
meddled with any of the Authors I have named, have shewn that it may
be done so, by their succeeding so happily in it.
'As for this Treatise of the _Art of Love_, for which the Author has
also prescrib'd a _Remedy_, as it is liable to be ill interpreted by
those whose Pens poison every Thing they touch; so it may bear a good
Construction, by such as know how to turn every Thing to Advantage.
'I will yet say, this _Art_ may be apply'd to those that intend to
marry. There is nothing sure against Decency in all that. I agree, if
you will have it so, that it extends so far as to direct one to the
Means to gain a Mistress. If this was not lawful heretofore in
_Italy_, on account of the jealous Humour of the _Italians_, we
cannot, for the same Reason only, say it ought to be forbidden in our
Country, any more than in several others, provided we could be sure
the Ladies Modesty would not be offended, before whom Youth should be
always careful not to exceed the Bounds of the Respect that's due to
them.'
_To this I may add, that if the Objection of Impurity lies against any
Part of this Work, it is only against the two latter Books, for in
that which we have here paraphrased, there is nothing capable of
offending the nicest Ear._
_With regard to the Merit of this Paraphrase, which is entirely a new
Undertaking, and might perhaps, if properly encouraged, be carried on
with other Latin Poets, we shall only observe, that the utmost Care
hath been taken to preserve the Spirit and true Sense of the Author,
and where we have been obliged to deviate, we have given the literal
Translation in the Notes._
_Upon the whole, we cannot suppress, what one of the most learned Men
of this Age, said upon persuing the Paraphrase_, viz. That he thought
it would serve better to explain the Meaning of _Ovid_ to a Learner,
than any other Translation, or all his numerous Commentators.
BOOK I
If in so learned an Age as this, when Arts and Sciences are risen to
such Perfection, there be any Gentleman unskilled in the Art of
Loving, let him come to my School; where, if he hath any Genius, he
will soon become an Adept: For I would by no means have any young
Gentlemen think, that Erudition is unnecessary upon this Occasion. It
is well known that the [1]Rules of Art are necessary to the Conduct of
a Ship; for which reason, none but able and experienced Seamen are
preferred to the Command of one. Rules are necessary even to make a
good Coachman, as those Gentlemen who have the Ambition to excel this
way very well know. In the same manner is Art required to drive the
Chariot of Love well. Now it hath pleased _Venus_ to place me in the
Coach-Box: what a Captain is to a Ship, or the Driver to his Chariot,
that am I to Love. I own indeed Master _Cupid_ is a little wild, and
often stubborn; but he is only a Child, and of an Age to be
disciplined: And however fierce the Disposition of a Lad may be, a
judicious Schoolmaster knows very well how to correct it: For many a
Boy who hath afterwards turned out a Hero, hath when at School very
patiently submitted to the Lash, and quietly, at the Word of Command,
held out his Hands to be whipt [2]. Duke _William_ [3] himself, when a
Lad, very possibly submitted to Correction; and he [4] who was
hereafter to become the Terror of his Enemies, might in his Youth have
been afraid of his Tutor. Mr. _Pointz_ was his Preceptor: I am the
Preceptor of Love. Both these Youths were of a fierce Disposition,
both elevated [5] in their Birth. But as the stoutest Ox submits
himself to the Yoke, and the most fiery Horse to the Bridle, so shall
Love to me. Though he may bend his Bow against my Breast, and shake
his Torches at me; no matter: nay, the more he pierces me with his
Arrows, the more he burns me, the more severely will I be revenged of
him.
But here, Master _Apollo_, I will tell no lies to my Readers. I do not
pretend to have received any Inspiration from you, any more than from
Parson _Whitefield_ [6]: And as for Miss _Clio_ [7] and her eight
Sisters, I never visit them; nor have I even a Cap-Acquaintance with
them. I write from Experience only; and _Experto crede Roberto_ is my
Motto. I promise my Readers that I will tell them truth; and if I
must, for form sake, invoke any Muse, _Venus_ herself shall be the
Person [8]. Sweet Goddess! then be thou present, and smile at my
Undertaking. But as for you who cannot smile, I mean you, Prudes, with
your screw'd Faces, which may be considered as Signs hung forth before
the Door of Virtue, and which perhaps, like other Signs, promise what
is not to be found in the House; I desire neither your Favour nor your
Company. Good-natur'd Girls[9] are all I write to; and such I promise
them may read my Works without a Blush.
Know then, my good Scholar, that art unexperienced in the Art of Love,
that this Art consists of three principal Points: First, to select a
proper Mistress: Secondly, to win her Affections: And, Thirdly, to
preserve your mutual Affection. Of all these therefore we will treat;
or, to speak metaphorically, through these three Roads we will drive
the Chariot we have undertaken to guide.
First then as to the Choice of a Mistress, to whom you may say, _In
Thee alone my choice is fixed_. Do not believe such a one will fall
into your Lap. It will become you to look about sharp for her, and
with all your Eyes, I do assure you. And here my first Instruction
shall be, where she may most probably be found: For he is a bad
Huntsman who would beat about the _Royal Exchange_ for a Hare or a
Fox; and not a much better Gunner or Fisherman, who goes a shooting in
_Somerset-Gardens_, or attempts to angle in the magnificent Bason
there. As these all know the Places where their Game resort, so must
you.
Here then, I by no means advise you to make a long Voyage after a
foreign Mistress, as _Perseus_ did, who fetched _Andromeda_[10] from
the _Indies_; or _Paris_, whom nothing would serve but a _Grecian_
Mistress. Your own Country, my Friend, will produce Women which the
World cannot equal. Beauties are as plenty in the City of _London_ as
Apples in[11] _Herefordshire_, or Grains of Wheat[12] in _Hampshire_;
they are indeed as plenty as Fish in the Sea, or Birds in the Air;
nay, the Sky hath not more Stars than _London_ hath Beauties: for
_England_[13], not _Cyprus_, is the Queen of Love's favourite Island.
Whether you love green Fruit, and which is in the Bud only, or Beauty
in its fuller Bloom, or that which is arrived to perfect Ripeness;
nay, if nothing but Wisdom or Sagacity will serve your turn, of these
too Old _England_ will afford you a sufficient Plenty.
In the pleasant Month of _May_, repair to _Vaux-Hall_[14]. Here take
your Evening Walk, either round the verdant Scenes, where
Nightingales, the only Foreigners who give us their Songs for nothing,
warble their most delicious Notes. When your Limbs demand Repose, you
may enjoy it in an Alcove, from whence the embattel'd Troops of
_Venus_ will pass in review before you. Again, the lofty Dome of
_Ranelagh_ invites your Steps. Whether the illustrious Artist took his
Model from that House, which as a Reward for their Industry, or for
some little regard for their Honey, the benevolent Nature of Man hath
conferred on that laborious Animal the Bee: Or whether a more pious
Disposition chose this Form from the musical Instrument which summons
the whole Parish to Church: Or whether the wondrous Force of Genius,
unassisted by any Model, did not of itself strike out this wondrous
Architecture; let _Kent_ or _Benson_ inquire. Hither, from every
Corner of the Town, repair the loveliest Nymphs. Here too thou may'st
survey them, either walking or reposed on Benches at thy Ease. Nor is
the _Mall_ to be neglected, where once die brawny Arm of _Charles_
displayed its Strength, and beat his subtle Courtiers at the Play,
whence it derives its Name. Nor, _Kensington_, must thy Gardens be
passed by, once the Delight of mighty _Caroline_, and to the future
Age a Monument of her Taste. Here the Charmers draw in sweet Air, and
send it forth again in sweeter Sighs, as Tributes to the loved Memory
of that mighty Queen. As for the Ring, formerly the Scene of Beauty's
many Triumphs, it is now become a lonely deserted Place: Brilliants
and brilliant Eyes no longer sparkle there: No more the heedless Beau
falls by the random Glance, or well-pointed Fan. The Ring is now no
more: Yet _Ruckholt_, _Marybone_ and _The Wells_ survive; Places by no
means to be neglected by the Gallant: for Beauty may lurk beneath the
Straw Hat, and _Venus_ often clothes her lovely Limbs in Stuffs. Nay,
the very Courts of Law are not excluded; and the Scenes of Wrangling
are sometimes the Scenes of Love. In that Hall where _Thames_
sometimes overflowing, washes the Temple of _Venus Lucy_, the grave
Serjeant becomes a Victim to the Fair; and he who so well knows how to
defend others, cannot defend himself. Here the Special Pleader loses
all Power to Demurr, and finds beyond his Expectation a novel
Assignment spring up in the Cause. Him _Venus Lucy_[15] laughs at from
her neighbouring Temple; for the Council is now become the Client, and
squeezes an empty Hand harder than he ever did a full one. But above
all, the Theatres are the Place of Sport: for these will be most
fruitful to your Wishes. Here you will find one Object to love, and
another to toy with. Some, of whom a single Touch will suffice, and
others, in whom you will desire a stronger Tenure. Neither do the Ants
in pursuit of Grain, or the Bees in quest of Flowers, swarm in greater
Numbers than the Beauties to the Theatres. The variety of Charmers
here have often distracted my Choice. Hither they come to see, and to
be themselves seen; and many are the Love-Bargains here made.
And now, Friend, I will tell you a Story. _Romulus_ was the first
Person who ever made this use of the Theatre, when he ordered his
Soldiers to fall foul on the _Sabine_ Ladies, whom he invited to a
Play acted by his Command. Not that I would have you think, that
Theatre was like the Playhouse in _Convent-Garden_, enriched with
Scenes, Machines, and other Decorations. To say the truth, it was no
better than a Barn, or Booth. Here he assembled the _Sabine_ Girls,
and ordered his _Romans_ to chuse every Man his Miss. They did so, and
while the poor Girls thought no Harm, those Fellows felt strange
Emotions within. Now while a certain Dancer, called, _The Ludio_, was
performing _a Tambourine_, which I suppose took greatly at that time,
_Romulus_ on a sudden gave the Signal for falling on. This was
instantly obeyed. They all rushed in, laid their Hands upon the Girls,
and soon gave them sufficient Tokens of their Purpose.
As the Doves, who are the most timorous of Birds, fly from Eagles; or
as the young Lamb runs from Wolves, as soon as she sees them, so
terrified were these Ladies, at the Men rushing upon them, in this
unlawful manner. The Colour forsook their Cheeks at once. All were
equally in a Fright, though they discovered their Fear by different
Symptoms. Some of them tear their Hair, others sit in Amazement,
Terror strikes some dumb, others call in vain for the Assistance of
their Mammas. One cries out, another is shocked to death; one stands
still, another endeavours to get out of the House. But all their
Endeavours are vain; and perhaps indeed their Blushes heightened their
Beauty; they were all led off, and those who would not go were
carried. Methinks, I hear one of their Gallants thus addressing his
weeping Fair. _Why, my Dear, will you spoil those lovely Eyes with
Tears? I promise you, you shall be served no worse than your Mother
hath been before. I will only do to you, what your Father did to her._
Ah _Romulus! Romulus!_ no General ever better knew how to reward his
Soldiers; I promise you, that when I hear your Drum beating up for
Voluntiers, I will enlist under your Command.
Ever since that time, the Theatre hath been consecrated to Love, and
many a pretty Girl, since the _Sabines_, hath owed the Loss of her
Maidenhead to it.
Other Places of publick Meeting may likewise be frequented, as Horse
Races[16] and the Like. And especially public Shews, which never fail
of Women. Here get upon a crouded Scaffold, and sit next to the Girl
you like. Squeeze yourself as close to her as you can; for Custom here
countenances such squeezing whether the pretty Creatures will or no.
Here find some Opportunity to begin a Discourse; you will not be
driven to talk upon your Fingers, or by Signs, but may use your
Tongue[B]. Begin then with News, or the Chitchat of the Town. Nay, the
Shew itself will afford a Subject: for instance supposing it was my
Lord Mayor's Shew, you may ask her what Alderman that Coach, or those
Liveries belong to; and be sure to admire the same with herself: Do
not omit moreover, to give her an early Intimation of your Gallantry,
and that you are a Woman's Man. If it should happen that any one of
the Aldermen should be a greater Cuckold than the rest of his
Brethren; take care to titter at his Appearance; and while the
Pageants[17] are passing by, endeavour to find out a Resemblance of
Horns in some of them. All those Things have a remote Tendency to this
great point.
[Note B: These Verses are transposed from the Place in which they
stand in the Original, and this, I think, with Advantage to the
Connection.]
If a Grain of Snuff should happen to fall on the Lady's Bosom, wipe it
off with your Fingers; and if none fall, wipe off that none. Take
every Opportunity to be as officious in her Service as possible. If
she drop her Fan or Gloves, presently take them up; for this you will
have sure Reward in the very Fact, for you may at the same time lift
up her petticoat and see her Legs.
Be careful that the Person who sits behind her doth not press her
tender Back with his Knee. Small Matters captivate light Minds. Many a
Man hath drawn considerable Advantage from handing[18] a Lady to
Coach, by gallanting her Fan, or even by taking up her Clog[19].
Nor will[20] _Tower-hill_, when the Tragic Scaffold is strewed with
Saw-Dust, be an improper Place to begin your Intrigue: for _Cupid_
himself always attends, and acts the Part of an Executioner on such
Occasions; many a poor Man having lost his Heart, while he hath
attended to another's losing his Head. While the Fair-One carelessly
laying her Hand on his, argues concerning the Criminal's Guilt, and
offers to lay a Wager that he will die well; the wounded Lover feels a
sudden Stroke, and is not better able to bear the Smart without a
Sigh.
[21]If it was the Custom of _England_ to imitate the _Romans_ in
insulting over the Conquered, what Spectacles might have formerly been
exhibited! How many _French_ Youths and Virgins might have followed
the Chariot-Wheels of our Monarchs! In that Cafe many a poor
_English_ Heart must have submitted to a _French_ Conquest, and Beauty
would have been triumphant in Chains. Nay, I prophesy we shall again
see those victorious Times. Our Mighty GEORGE now meditates new
Triumphs, and _France_[22] shall be punished as she ought. Rejoice, O
ye Shades[23], whose Bodies lie buried in the Plains of _Fontenoy_,
where _British_ Colours were polluted by _Gallic_ Hands. WILLIAM your
Avenger comes. The General in him shone forth in his first Campaign,
and while a Youth, he managed War beyond his Years. Let not his Age
therefore deter us from ranking him among our greatest Commanders. His
Warlike Genius springs forth and outruns his Years, impatient of the
sluggish Pace of Time. The _Swedish Charles_[24] was scarce beyond a
Child when he crushed two mighty enemies at once; _Charles_[25] the
_German_ Prince, yet but a Youth, what was he when he past the _Rhine_
and terrified the Host of _France_? Thy Father's Genius, WILLIAM, and
his Courage, shall inspire thy youthful Arms. With that Genius and
that Courage shalt thou conquer. Such Beginnings dost thou owe to the
mighty Name of thy illustrious Sire; that thou who art the Noblest of
all young Commanders mayst hereafter become the first among the old.
'Tis time to avenge the Injuries attempted to thy House, and to
maintain thy glorious Father's Rights. Thy Country's Father and thy
own, girts on thy Sword, and thy Cause is no less glorious than thy
Arms. In both is _France_ inferiour, and to both shall yield. I
prophesy, that thou shalt conquer, and to thy Conquest I dedicate my
votive Prayers, prepared hereafter to resound thy Praise; when we
shall see thee, most lovely Prince, returning, thy Glories far
outshining the Gold in which thou art attired. Thee shall Crouds of
Youths and beauteous Virgins hail from their crouded Windows as thou
passest, and universal Joy shall overspread each _British_ Face on
that Blest Day.
If then, my Scholar, thou shouldst happen to be placed in a Window
near some lovely Girl, who, fired with the Glories of the young
Conqueror, should enquire into all his matchless Labours[26], his
Wound at _Dettingen_; his Danger and Intrepidity at _Fontenoy_; his
Toils at home, in defiance of Cold and Fatigue; his Pursuit to
_Carlisle_; his Victory at _Culloden_; and many more which will then
be as well known; repeat all if thou canst, and if thy Memory fails,
go on nevertheless: for Invention cannot here outdo the Reality, and
thy Fictions shall recommend thee equal with Truth to her Ears.
Again, when thou dost sit down at table among the Women, thou may'st
reap other Pleasures besides those of Wine: For, to speak
figuratively, _Cupid_ with glowing Cheeks often presses the Horns of
_Bacchus_ in his tender Arms; and the Wings of the little God of Love
being wetted with Wine, he is unable to fly off: And if he happens to
shake his wet Wings, he may possibly sprinkle the Bosom of your
Mistress with Love.
In more intelligible Language, Wine fills our Minds with Courage, and
makes them susceptible of other warm Passions. Care flies away, and is
dissolved in much Liquor. Then comes Laughter, the poor Man becomes
bold, and Grief and Solicitude, and knitted Brows vanish. Then it is
that Simplicity, a rare Virtue in our Age, opens our Hearts, Wine
having divested us of Cunning. At this Season, many a watchful young
Fellow hath gained the Heart of his Mistress[27]. And Love hath sprung
from Wine, as the Flame doth from Fire.
However, do not confide too much at this time to the Light of a
Candle: for Night and Wine obstruct us in forming a true Judgment of
Beauty. _Paris_ beheld the Goddesses in open Daylight, when he gave
the Preference to _Venus_. Indeed by Candle-light, and in a Side-Box,
almost every one is a Beauty: Jewels, Clothes, and Women, are all best
discerned by the Light of the Sun.
And here if I should recount all the rural Haunts in which a Lover may
find his Game, I might write more Volumes than _Oldmixon_,
_Tunbridge_, and _Scarborough_, and _Cheltenham_, and _Holt_, and many
other Places shall be therefore omitted; but, Bath[28], thy sulphurous
Waters must not be past by. Hence Master _Dapperwit_ bringing home the
Wounds made by fair Eyes in his Bosom, cries out, on his Return, _The
Waters are not so wholesome as they are reported; I have received more
Harm than Good at the Place_.
Here rises the Temple[29] of the God (CNASH) whose Walls are hung
round with the Portraits of Beauties. The Apotheosis of this God hath
cost many a poor Man his Heart.
Thus far, my Scholar, I have endeavoured to instruct thee in what
Places thou art to hunt for thy Game, and where to spread thy Net. I
will now proceed to shew thee by what Means Puss is to be taken, when
you have found her Sitting.
_Mind all_, as my old Schoolmaster used to say; for I assure you my
instructions will be worthy the Attention of both the Great Vulgar and
the Small.
My first Lesson then is: Be confident. Believe every Woman is to be
come at. Do but spread your Net, and I warrant she runs into it.
Sooner shall the Birds be silent in the Spring, or the Frogs in the
Winter: Sooner shall the Greyhound run away from the Hare, than a
Woman shall resist the Youth who gently assails her. Though she skrews
up her Face ever so demurely, she will at length yield to his
Persuasions.
A dark Corner is as agreeable to a Girl, as to one of us, though we
cannot so well dissemble our Desires as she can; but if we should once
enter into a Confederacy against the Sex to leave off courting them,
they would soon begin to act the Part of Lovers, and come a wooing to
us.
And what is this but a natural Affection, common to the Females of
every other Species, who often make love to the Males? And give me
leave to tell the Ladies, that we are more able to command our
Affections, nor are our Desires so furious, and exceeding all Bounds,
as theirs.
The Story of _Byblis_[30] is too well known to be related, who being
in love with her Brother, punished her Crime with her own Hands, and
hanged herself in her Garters.
Miss _Myrrha_[31] loved her Papa with an Affection improper for a
Daughter; for which she was turned into a Tree. I do assure you the
Story is true; and the Tree now drops continual Tears for her Offence,
which we use as a Perfume; and they retain the Lady's Name.
In the shady Valleys of _Ida_[32], there was a white Bull, which was
the Glory of the Farmer to whom he belonged. This Bull had a beautiful
black Speck between his Horns, all the rest of his Body being as white
as Milk. With him the _Gnossian_ and _Cydonian_ Heifers were all in
love, and eagerly longed to be embraced by him in the tenderest manner
in which Bulls embrace the Fair Sex of Cows. _Pasiphae_, I am very
sorry to say it, conceived a Passion worse, if possible, than that of
Mrs. _Mary Hamilton_, for this Bull. Lady ---- is not more envied in
the Drawing-Room than was every handsome Heifer by this unfortunate
Woman. The Story is so well known that there is not a Freethinker[33]
in the Age who can refuse his Credit to it, though they believe
nothing which they cannot see and account for. This poor Girl is
reported to have mowed the sweetest Grass with her own Hands for her
beloved Bull. She likewise wandered about among the Cows, without the
least Regard to Mr. Alderman. _Minos_ her Husband; for a Bull had
totally supplanted him in her Esteem. Alas! _Pasiphae_, to what
purpose are the brocaded Petticoats? Your Gallant is not sensible of
your Finery. Why do you consult your Looking-Glass, in order to pursue
the Mountain-Herds? Or why with so much Art do you set your _Tete_? If
you will consult your Glass, let it inform you you are no Heifer. Ah!
how desirous are you to have those Horns on your own Forehead, which
you intend to graft on your Husband's! It would be better to preserve
your Virtue, and be constant to the Alderman, if you can like him: But
if you must make a Cuckold of him, do it at least with a young Fellow.
No; nothing but a Bull will suffice. She leaves the Alderman's House,
and flies away to the Groves and Mountains. To say the truth, I
believe she used to drink away her Senses; and that is the best Excuse
for her. Ah! how often hath she cast a jealous Eye on some Heifer! and
cried out, _Why should that vixen please my Love? Behold, says she,
how the Slut dances a Minuet on the Grass before him: Let me die, but
she is silly enough to think her Airs become her in my Love's Eyes._
At length she resolved to punish her Rivals. One Heifer she ordered
barbarously to be yoked to the Plough; another she condemned to be
sacrificed, and held the Entrails of the poor Victim in her Hand with
all the insulting Triumph of a Rival: _Now_, says she, having the
Entrails in her Hand, _now go and make yourself agreeable to my Dear_.
At one time she wishes to be _Europa_[34], at another _Io_: for one of
these was herself the Wife of a Bull, and the other made her Horse of
one.
Filled with these Thoughts, she contrived the strangest Method of
compleating her Desires. She sent for a Joiner of great Ingenuity, and
ordered him to make her a large Cow of Wood. Into this she conveyed
herself, and thus deceived Master Bull into her Embraces.
She conceived by this monstrous Coition, and brought forth an
Offspring, which by his partaking equally of the human and taurine
Form, betrayed her horrid Passion.
If the _Cretan_ Lady[35] had abstained from the Love of _Thyestes_,
(O! how Women disdain Constancy to their Husbands!) the Sun had not
stopt in the middle of his Career, and turned about his Face to the
East, that he might avoid the bloody Banquet. God be praised! the
Cuckolds of our Age are not so bloody in their Revenge.
The Daughter of _Nisus_[36], who stole her Papa's Hair, feeds hungry
Dogs in those Parts which first set her a longing for _Minos_.
_Agamemnon_, after returning safe from so many bloody Campaigns, and
from the dangerous Seas which he crossed, fell at last a dreadful
Victim to the Whore his Wife[37].
Who hath not wept at the sad Story of _Creusa_? consumed by the Flames
of a Sorceress, who afterwards drenched her Hands in the Blood of her
own Children[38].
_Phoenix_[39], the Son of _Amyntor_, hath often paid many a Tear for
his Amours, though he had not the wretched Fate of _Hippolytus_[40],
to be torn in pieces by wild Horses.
And thou, O _Phineus_[41]! why dost thou indulge that Jade _Harpalice_
by digging out the Eyes of thy Children? Believe me, Divine Vengeance
will hereafter inflict the same Punishment on thyself.
All these have been the Effects of Women's raging Desires, which are
so much more violent and mad than ours.
Come on then, and doubt not the Conquest of any Girl whatever: there
is not one in a thousand who will deny you.
And even those who will deny you, love to be put to the Question; if
you are disappointed therefore, your Repulse will be attended with no
Danger.
But why should you apprehend any Disappointment, when every new Amour
pleases them, and they all hanker after the Lovers and Husbands of
other Women?
This I am afraid is too natural in all things. The Corn in our
Neighbour's Field seems always to flourish beyond our own, and we
think our own Cow gives less Milk than his.
However, before you attack any Lady, make first sure of her Maid; for
she will pave the Way to your Addresses.
If the Lady have many Females about her Person, take care to secure
her who is most in the Confidence of her Mistress; and who will
faithfully betray to you all her private Conversation.
When you have found this Confidant out, corrupt her with Promises and
Intreaties; for she can soon bring you to the End of your Desires, if
she pleases.
Let her watch the Opportunity, (Physicians will tell you the Use of
attending proper Seasons) when the Mind of your Mistress is easy, and
apt for your Purpose.
This Season, I apprehend, is when she is in the best Humour; for Love
then becomes luxuriant in her Mind, as Corn doth in a rich Soil.
When the Heart is full of Gladness, and bound up by no Vexation, it
is open; and then the Compliments of a Lover will easily find an
Admission.
Remember, _Troy_ was defended while it remained in a sullen Mood, and
opened its Gates to the armed Horse, when it was full of Good-Humour,
and drunk with Joy.
Yet every Vexation should not deter you; for if your Mistress should
be uneasy at the Falshood of her Husband, then is a proper time to
attack her, and to assist her in revenging the Injury.
When your Mistress is in this Humour, let _Abigail_ while combing her
Hair at the Toilette in a Morning, stir her up to Vengeance. This will
under-hand promote your Voyage; for while you openly manage your
Sails, she works under the Water with her Oars.
Now let Abigail with a soft Sigh mutter to her self: _Ah! poor Lady, I
am afraid it is not in your power alone to revenge your Husband's
Perfidy!_
Then let her introduce a Discourse of you; let her say something in
your Favour, and swear that you are gone distracted and dying for
Love.
But no Time must be lost; lest the Passions she hath raised should
again subside; and Resentment intervene by Delay, and freeze up her
Love as Ice doth Water.
And here perhaps you will ask a Question, Whether it is prudent to
kiss the Agent herself. This is not easy to answer: for it is a mere
Cast of the Dye, whether you succeed the better of the worse for it.
One Woman is by Enjoyment made a more industrious Solicitor, another
becomes just the reverse. One thinks of procuring the Pleasures she
hath tasted for her Mistress, another of securing them herself.
The Event is doubtful; and though she may be easy enough to be had, my
Advice is, abstain from the Confidant; for I will not imitate the
Empyric in striking bold Strokes; nor will I lead my Scholars over a
Precipice. I give no Advice but what is safe, nor shall any Youth by
following my Precepts run himself into _Rosamond's Pond_.
If therefore the Girl who goes between you and your Mistress, pleases
you in her Person as well as in her Diligence; enjoy the Mistress
first, and the Maid falls of course; but never begin with the latter.
One thing however I must admonish you, (if my Art deserves any
Credit, and my Words are to be regarded as any thing better than Wind)
EITHER NEVER ATTEMPT THE CONFIDANT, OR GO THOROUGH STITCH WITH HER:
for by making her _particeps criminis_ you take away her Evidence.
This Doctrine you may learn from all other Sportsmen: for if a Bird
escapes with Birdlime on his Wings, or a Boar breaks through the
Toils, or a Fish gets off from the Hook; they are all sure to alarm
their Companions, and spoil the Sport of the Fowler, the Hunter, or
the Fisher. If once therefore you attempt her, press her to it with
all your Vigour, and never leave her till you have enjoyed her.
For when once she is involved in the same Guilt with yourself, you are
sure she will not betray you. Nay, you may be assured further, that
she will betray every Word and Action of her Mistress to you.
But take particular care not to blab any of the Secrets she discloses
to you: for while her Mistress hath no Suspicion of her Confidant, she
will be able to lay her entirely open to your Knowledge.
And now, to resume that Matter, believe me, he is deceived, who thinks
that none but the Farmer and Mariner are obliged to regard the Season:
for as it is not proper at all times to commit the Corn to the
fallacious Fields, nor to trust your Vessel at all times to the green
Ocean; so neither is it always safe to attack a tender Girl, for she
will be taken at one time who will resist at another. If it be for
instance her Birth-day[42], perhaps, her Grandmother hath instructed
her to be particularly cautious on that day; so if it be the Day of
the Week on which _Childermas_ hath happened to fall that Year; or
King _Charles's_ Martyrdom: defer the attack at all such Seasons. For
to speak in Sea-Language, then is dirty Weather[43], then it blows a
Hurricane; and if you weigh Anchor at that Season, you will be scarce
able to keep your keel downwards.
Above all avoid your Mistress's Birth-day; nor will it be more prudent
in you to visit her first on the Morning of _Valentine's_ Day[44], you
will pay more for being her Valentine than it is worth. Indeed all
Seasons which give them any Hint of receiving Presents should be
carefully avoided: for be never so cautious and sneaking, have it of
you she will. They all very well know the Art of squeezing a Lover who
longs to squeeze them.
Mr.[C] _Deards_ will make his Appearance in his Silk Night-Gown, and
unbundle his Packet in your Presence. The Lady will then desire you
to look over his Trinkets, (she can do no less, you know, in
Compliment to your Taste:) then she will make you a Present of a Kiss,
and afterwards desire you to buy it.
[Note C: An eminent Joyner in _London_.]
"I promise you, my Dear," says she, "if you will but buy me this
single Jewel, I will not ask another of you the Lord knows how long;
but I have really a present Occasion for this, and besides it is the
cheapest Thing I ever saw."
If you pretend to have no Money about you, the Answer is, O, my Dear,
you may give your Note: Mr. _Deards_ will take your Note. So that you
may repent having learnt to write your Name. Then she adds, _O la, I
had almost forgot, it is my Birth-day, I am sure you will make me a
Present on my Birth-day_: for they can be born every Day in the Year
to serve their Purpose. Or else she pretends to have lost a Drop from
her Ear-Ring; this Loss makes her miserable, and sure, says she, _if
you loved me, you would repair that Loss_.
Nay, some are not so honest as to desire a Present, they only borrow;
but they are sure never to restore. By this Means you lose the Thing,
without having the Merit of bestowing it.
In short, if I had ten Mouths, with ten Tongues in each, all would not
suffice to display all the Arts by which Harlots pick the Pockets of
their Cullies.
Begin then your Amour with an Epistle; let that break the Ice for you,
and make the first Discovery of your Flame.
In this you may insert all your little Blandishments, and Expressions
of Fondness, nor be ashamed, however high your Quality is, to add the
strongest Entreaties.
Remember that many a Rebel's Son hath had his Life spared at the
Supplication of his Father; nay, the Wrath of Heaven itself is often
averted by Prayer.
It is moreover my Advice to you, to be liberal of your Promises; for
what Injury can you receive by Promising? This is a Treasure in which
any Man may be rich.
Nor can your Mistress complain that she is absolutely cheated, if you
can bring her to believe your Promises. A lifely Faith hath supported
many a Man for a long Time: For though our Faith may sometimes deceive
us, it is however a great and commodious Virtue.
Beware of giving: For when once your Mistress hath the Present in her
Clutches, she may answer jilting you to her Prudence. She hath gained
at least what she is in possession of, and cannot be said to have lost
any thing by the Bargain.
On the contrary, keep her still in Expectation. Seem always about to
give, but never part with a Shilling: For in this Manner doth a barren
Soil often deceive its Owner. Thus, that he may not be a Loser, the
Gamester pushes on his ill Luck, and one flattering Throw makes him
eager to have the Box again in his Hands.
Indeed the great Business is to enjoy your Mistress before she hath
touched you. If she once yield to you gratis, she will continue to
bestow her Favours still gratis, in Hopes of being at last rewarded
for all her past Favours.
Epistolize therefore first; flatter and sooth her with tender Lines.
Let these probe her Mind, and open the Way for your Addresses.
You know the Story of _Cydippe_[45], who was outwitted by a Letter
inclosed in an Apple; by which Means she was made to speak Words she
never intended.
I would advise the young Gentlemen of the _Temple_, to study the Arts
of Persuasion, on other Accounts, besides that of defending
Sheep-stealers at an Assizes: For a pretty Girl may be as easily
captivated by Eloquence, as a Judge or Jury; and surely she is a much
nobler Prize.
But here conceal your Art, and do not carry your Eloquence in your
Face: And above all Things, beware of hard Words; for who but an empty
Coxcomb ever made a verbose Declamation to his Mistress? By such
Methods you may raise her Abhorrence more probably than her Love.
Let your Passion appear credible, and disclose it in easy and common
Language; it may be as tender and warm as you please; but preserve the
Stile of Conversation.
If she should not receive your Letter, but send it back unopened, hope
for better Success another Time, and maintain your Purpose.
Time brings the Stubborn Steer to bend his Neck to the Yoke, and the
Horse to endure the Bridle.
Iron Bonds and Ploughshares are worn out by constant Use. What is
harder than a Rock? or what is softer than Water? And yet hard Rocks
are hollowed by soft Water.
_Penelope_ herself in Time might have been conquered. You see _Troy_,
though it defended itself so long, was however taken at last.
If she reads your Letters, but is unwilling to answer them, do not
attempt to compel her. If she but reads your Fondness, it is
sufficient.
If she will read, in Time she will answer what she reads. All these
Matters will be brought about in their own good Time.
Perhaps the first Answer she sends you will be a cruel one, and may
desire you to quit all future Solicitations.
She fears to be taken at her Word, and hopes you will not grant her
Request. Follow her, and in Time you will obtain your Wishes.
If you meet her Chair, and the Curtains should be drawn, approach it
as it were by Accident; and when you discover her there, whisper
something tender in her Ear; but whisper softly, lest the Chairman, or
any other impertinent Person, should over-hear you.
When she walks in the _Mall_, dangle after her, and interrupt her Walk
with your Conversation.
Here you will have an Opportunity of seeing her Shape, and shewing her
yours, by sometimes walking behind, and sometimes before her.
But for the most Part keep even pace with her, whether she trips along
briskly, or only saunters.
Sometimes she will take a longer Walk, as far perhaps as the second or
Third Stone. Hither follow her, and take every Opportunity of getting
up close to her Side.
Never let her go to the Play without attending her: No Matter what the
Play is, she will bring sufficient Entertainment for you with her.
Here keep your Eyes always intent on her only, and admire every Thing
about her. By your Eyes, and by Signs, you may inform her of many
Things.
Be sure to applaud greatly any amorous wanton Dance; and be no less
favourable to those Scenes where the Business of Love is transacted,
and almost brought to a Conclusion on the Stage: Many of which occur
in _Congreve_, _Vanbrugh_, and _Wycherly_.
If she rises between the Acts, rise also; if she sits, as sometimes
Ladies do, to express their Contempt for the Audience, do you likewise
keep your Seat. In a Word, conduct yourself entirely according to her
Example and Pleasure.
Now with regard to your Person: Do not imitate some finical _Petit
Matre_ in his _Toupet_, much less in more detestable Effeminacies.
Tuck your Hair rather under your Hat, like the rough Fox-hunter, who
traverses Hill and Dale to the Musick of the Horn.
A careless Air in Dress becomes a Man. Colonel _Theseus_[46] carried
off Miss _Ariadne_ in a Campaign Wig without a single Curl in it.
In the same Manner did Captain _Hippolytus_ march off with Miss
_Phaedra_, though his Shock Head of Hair never had any Powder in it:
nay, Lady _Venus_ herself chose young _Jack Adonis_ in a Jockey Coat
and Buckskin Breeches.
Cleanliness however is agreeable: Let your Face be burnt with the Sun;
but let your Cloaths be well made, and without a Spot on them.
Wash your Mouth, and clean your Teeth often; let your Beard be close
shaved, and your Nails short and free from Dirt.
Observe these Documents, and leave all other Niceties to the Women,
and to Men who desire to supply their Places.
But now _Bacchus_ summons his Poet. He likewise assists Lovers, and
favours the Flame which warms himself.