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 pray'rs did Hector's body gain; Nor is an angry god invok'd in vain. With promis'd gifts her early mind bewitch, For e'en 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. E'en barren lands fair promises afford, But the lean harvest cheats the starving lord. Buy not thy first employment, 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. Cydyppe 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 restive horse will bear the bit. E'en the hard ploughshare 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 she writes, and answers with disdain, And sharply bids you not to write again: What she requires, she fears you would 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 crowds permit, go side by side. Nor in the playhouse let her sit alone, For she's the playhouse and the play in one; There thou may'st ogle, or by signs advance Thy hand, and seem to touch her hand by chance. Admire the dancer who her liking gains, And pity in the play the lover's pails ; 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 nymphs his wishes crowned. The rough Hippolytus was Phaedra's care, And Venus thought the rude Adonis fair. Be not too finical, but yet be clean, And wear well fashioned 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 dirt, and even par'd; Nor let your nasty nostrils bud with beard. Cure your unsav'ry breath; gargle your throat; And free your armpits from the ram and goat. In this expression, which is Ovid's in the main, the Romans bore
						with an idea that perhaps the delicacy of the moderns will be offended with.
						The smell of a ram or goat is very rank, and from those animals the proverb
						came. 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: Wine is favourable to
						lovers, inspiring them at once with boldness and vigour. 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 loves no more; Loose was her gown, dishevel'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 heav'nly 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. Cymbals. drums, little bells, and pipes, were Bacchus and mother
						Cybele's consort. 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, And held upon the mane (the god was clear). The drunken sire pursues, the dames retire; Sometimes the drunken dames pursue the drunken sire. 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 limbs 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 heav'n 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 please with ease can do,) And swiftly bore her thence; th' attending throng Shout at the sight, and sing the nuptial song. It was an ancient custom to sing hymns of joy at weddings; which
						hymns were called epithalamius, or hymeneans, from a certain Athenian named
						Hymen, who, as Servins reports, delivered maids from a terrible trouble, or
						which they used to invoke him when they married, as the god who eased them
						of the burden of their maidenheads: le liberateur de
							leur virginité as my French author has it; and whether it is
						more a slavery or a burden, let the satirists determine. 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, The poet's directions how the lover should behave himself at
						table, are very considerable in the affair he is speaking of. 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 address'd to her. In liquid purple letters write her name, Spill some wine and write her name. This is not worthy the Roman
						elegance in all things; and, as a late commentattor observes upon this
						occasion they could have no tablecloths; for otherwise Ovid 's advice is not feasible. 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 where 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 e'en the husband must attend; This and the verses that follow show that Ovid did not mean very honestly, and the
						decree of the senate was obtained against him for this crime, as it is
						pretended, because it was strictly forbidden by the Roman laws to corrupt
						married women, to prevent the abuses which might happen in succession, and
						the injuring another man in taking from him what only belongs to
						himself. (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 thro' 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 oppress't, Eurythus, or Eurytion, was one of the centaurs at Pirithous's
						wedding, who got so drunk that he attempted to ravish Hippodamia, the bride;
						but Theseus knocked him down with a bowl, and made him bring up his wine
						again with blood. For his rude riot at a wedding-feast. Sing, if you have a voice; and shew your parts In dancing, if endu'd with dancing arts. Do anything within your power to please; Nay, e'en 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, But when 'tis feign'd 'tis oft a lover's friend: Then safely you may 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 prepar'd to go, Mix with the crowd 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, that rustic virtue, by; Modesty is a vice, when it hinders us from doing anything that is
						profitable to us; and the misfortune is, it generally comes upon us most
						unseasonably, and when it should not. When it should, we commonly miss it;
						and when we do not want it, it is impertinent. 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; He talks of modesty, and says, if the lover banishes it, he has no
						occasion for eloquence; for love and fortune favour the bold. 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 possess't. 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 e'en 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 lie spreads his train: Be silent, and lie pulls it in again. Pleas'd is the courser in his rapid race; Applaud his running, and he mends his pace. But largely promise and devoutly swear, And, if need be, call ev'ry 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, lie dares not an example make, Or punish falsehood, for his own dear sake. 'Tis for our interest 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, Speaking of the gods, according to the stoics' opinion, which,
						contrary to the Epicureans, asserted that the deities concerned themselves
						in the affairs of this world. 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. This is a very severe reflection on the sex, and it is hoped, whatever it
						might be in Ovid 's time, the
						scandal will not stick now. 'Tis said that Egypt for nine years was
					dry, Nor Nile did floods, nor heav'n did rain
					supply. That slaughter'd guests would kindly moisture bring. The king replied, "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 squeezed, 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 subdu'd 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. The sex is cunning to conceal their fires; They would be forc'd e'en to their own desires. They seem t' accuse you with a down-cast sight, But in their souls confess you did them right. Who might be forc'd, and yet untouch'd depart, Thank with their tongues, but curse you with their heart. Fair Phoebe and her sister did prefer, To their dull mates, the noble ravisher. To their dull mates the noble ravisher. Phoebe and Ilara were two daughters of Leucippus,
						both famous for their beauty. Their father promised them in marriage to Idas
						and Lynceus, but Castor and Pollux stole them away from him. Idas and
						Lynceus pursuing the ravishers, Caster fell by the hands of Lynceus, and
						Lynceus was himself slain by Pollux: Idas running upon the latter to revenge
						the death of his companion, was struck to the ground thunder at Pollux feet;
						which Ovid has elegantly described
						in his de Fastis.