Sidor som bilder
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To bis mistress, whofe husband is invited to a feaft with them. The poet inftructs her how to behave herself in his company.

OUR husband will be with us at the treat;
May that be the laft fupper he fhall eat.
And am poor
I a gueft invited there,


Only to fee, while he may touch the fair?
To fee you kifs and hug your naufeous lord,
While his leud hand defcends below the board?
Now wonder not that Hippodamia's charms,
At fuch a fight, the Centaurs urg'd to arms;
That in a rage they threw their cups afide,
Affail'd the bridegroom, and would force the bride.
I am not half a horfe, (I would I were)
Yet hardly can from you my hands forbear.
Take then my counsel; which, obferv'd, may be
Of fome importance both to you and me.
Be fure to come before your man be there;
There's nothing can be done; but come howe'er.

Sit next him (that belongs to decency)
But tread upon my foot in paffing by.
Read in
my looks what filently they speak,
And flily, with your eyes, your anfwer make:
My lifted eye-brow fhall declare my pain;
My right-hand to his fellow fhall complain;
And on the back a letter thall design;
Befides a note that fhall be writ in wine.


your ear.

Whene'er you think upon our last embrace,
With your fore-finger gently touch your
If any word of mine offend my dear,
Pull, with your hand, the velvet of
If you are pleas'd with what I do or fay,
Handle your rings, or with your fingers play.
As fuppliants ufe at altars, hold the board,
Whene'er you with the devil may take your lord.
When he fills for you, never touch the cup,
But bid th' officious cuckold drink it up.
The waiter on thofe fervices employ:
Drink you, and I will fnatch it from the boy;
Watching the part where your fweet mouth hath


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

Reject his greafy kindness, and restore
Th' unfav'ry morfel he had chew'd before.
Nor let his arms embrace your neck, nor rest
Your tender cheek upon his hairy breast.
Let not his hand within your bofom ftray,
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 refign,
Left I rise up in arms, and cry, 'tis mine.
I fhall thruft in betwixt, and void of fear
The manifeft adult'rer will appear.
These things are plain to fight; but more I

What you conceal beneath your petticoat.
Take not his leg between your tender thighs,
Nor, with your hand, provoke my foe to rife.
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 hafte,
While o'er my fide the fair her mantle cast.
You to your husband shall not be so kind;
But, left you should, your mantle leave behind.

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Encourage him to tope; but kifs him not,
Nor mix one drop of water in his pot.
If he be fuddled well, and fnores apace,
Then we may take advice from time and place.
When all depart, when compliments are loud,
Be sure to mix among the thickest crowd:
There I will be, and there we cannot mifs,
Perhaps to grubble, or at least to kifs.
Alas! what length of labour I employ,
Just to fecure a short and tranûent joy!
For night muft part us;
and when night is come,
Tuck'd underneath his arm he leads you home.
He locks you in; I follow to the door,
His fortune envy, and my own deplore.
He kiffes you, he more than kiffes too;
Th' outrageous cuckold thinks it all his due.
But add not to his joy by your confent,
And let it not be given, but only lent.
Return no kifs, nor move in any fort;
Make it a dull and a malignant fport.
Had I my wish, he should no pleasure take,
But flubber o'er your bufinefs for my fake.
And whate'er fortune fhall this night befal,
Coax me to-morrow, by forfwearing all.

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F for thyself thou wilt not watch thy whore, Watch her for me, that I may love her more. What comes with eafe we naufeoufly receive, Who, but a fot, would fcorn 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 humor knew,
Play'd trick for trick, and kept herself still new :
She, that next night I might the sharper come,
Fell out with me, and fent me fafting home;
Or fome pretence to lie alone would take;
Whene'er the pleas'd, her head, and teeth would


'Till having won me to the highest strain, She took occafion to be sweet again.

With what a gust, ye gods, we then imbrac'd ! How ev'ry kifs was dearer than the last!

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