Sidor som bilder




To his mistress, whose husband is invited to a feast

with them. The poet instructs her how to behave herself in his company.

YOUR husband will be with us at the treat;
May that be the last fupper he shall eat.
And am poor I a guest invited there,
Only to fee, while he may touch the fair ?
To see you kiss and hug your nauseous lord, 5
While his lewd hand defcends below the board ?
Now wonder not that Hippodamia's charms,
At such a sight, the Centaurs urg'd to arms;
That in a rage they threw their cups aside,
Affail'd the bridegroom, and would force the

I am not half a horse, (I would I were)
Yet hardly can from you my hands forbear.
Take then my counsel ; which, observ’d, may be
Of some importance both to you and me.

10 21

Be sure to come before your man be there ; 15
There's nothing can be done ; but come how-

Sit next him (that belongs to decency)
But tread upon my foot in passing by.
Read in


looks what silently they speak, And Nily, with your eyes, your answer make. . My lifted eye-brow shall declare my pain ; My right-hand to his fellow shall complain ; And on the back a letter shall design; Besides a note that shall be writ in wine. Whene'er you

think upon our last embrace, 25 With your fore-finger gently touch


If any word of mine offend my dear,
Pull, with your hand, the velvet of your ear.
If you are pleas'd with what I do or say,
Handle your rings, or with your fingers play. 30
As suppliants use at altars, hold the board,
Whene'er you wish the devil


your lord. When he fills for you, never touch the cup, But bid th' officious cuckold drink it

up. The waiter on those services employ: Drink


and I will snatch it from the boy ; Watching the part where your fweet mouth

hath been, And thence with eager lips will fuck it in. If he, with clownish manners, thinks it fit To taste, and offer you the nafty bit, 49

35 45

in arms,



Reject his greasy kindness, and restore
Th’ unsav'ry morsel he had chewd before.
Nor let his arins embrace your neck, nor rest
Your tender cheek upon his hairy breast.
Let not his hand within your bofom stray,
And rudely with your pretty bubbies play.
But above all, let him no kiss receive;
That's an offence I never can forgive.
Do not, O do not that sweet mouth resign,
Left I rise


and 'Tis mine. I shall thrust in betwixt, and void of fear The manifest adulterer will appear. These things are plain to fight; but more I

doubt What


conceal beneath your petticoat. Take not his leg between your tender thighs, 55 Nor, with your hand, provoke my foe to rise. How many love-inventions I deplore, Which I myself have practis'd all before ? How oft have I been forc'd the robe to lift In company ; to make a homely shift For a bare bout, ill huddled o'er in haste, While o'er


fide the fair her mantle cast. You to your husband shall not be so kind; But, left you should, your mantle leave behind. Encourage him to tope ; but kiss him not, Nor mix one drop of water in his pot. If he be fuddled well, and snores apace, Then we may take advice from time and place.


65 70

When all depart, when compliments are loud,
Be fure to mix among the thickest crowd:
There I will be, and there we cannot miss,
Perhaps to grubble, or at least to kiss.
Alas! what length of labour I employ,
Just to fecure a short and transient joy !
For night must part us: and when night is come,
Tuck'd underneath his arm he leads


home. He locks you in ; I follow to the door, His fortune envy, and my own deplore. He kisses


he more than kiffes too; Th' outrageous cuckold thinks it all his due. 80 But add not to his joy by your consent, And let it not be given, but only lent. Return no kiss, nor move in any sort ; Make it a dull and a malignant sport. Had I my wish, he should no pleasure take, 85 But flubber o'er your business for


fake. And whate'er fortune shall this night befal, Coax me to-morrow, by forswearing all.





IF for thyself thou wilt not watch thy whore, Watch her for me, that I may love her more. What comes with ease we nauseously receive, Who, but a fot, would scorn to love with leave? With hopes and fears my flames are blown up

higher ? Make me despair, and then I can desire. Give me a jilt to teaze my jealous mind; Deceits are virtues in the female kind. Corinna my fantastic humour knew, Play'd trick for trick, and kept herfelf still new: She, that next night I might the sharper come, Fell out with me, and sent me fasting home; Or some pretence to lie alone would take; Whene’er she pleas’d, her head and teeth would

ake : 'Till having won me to the highest strain, She took occafion to be sweet again. With what a gust, ye gods, we then embrac'd ! How ev'ry kiss was dearer than the last !




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