Who knows what to her Office does belong,
Is in the Secret, and can hold her tongue.
Bribe her with Gifts, with Promises, and Pray'rs ;
For her good Word goes far in Love Affairs.
The Time and fit Occafion leave to her,
When the moft aptly can thy Suit prefer.
The Time for Maids to fire their Lady's Blood,
Is, when they find her in a merry Mood;
When all things at her Wish and Pleasure move:
Her Heart is open then, and free to Love.
Then Mirth and Wantonnefs to Luft betray,
And smooth the Paffage to the Lover's Way.
Troy ftood the Siege, when fill'd with anxious Care :
One merry Fit concluded all the War.

If fome fair Rival vex her jealous Mind,
Offer thy Service to revenge in Kind.
Inftruct the Damfel, while fhe combs her Hair,
To raise the Choler of that injur'd Fair;
And, fighing, make her Mistress understand,
She has the Means of Vengeance in her Hand:
Then, naming thee, thy humble Suit prefer;
And fwear thou languisheft and dy't for her.
Then let her lofe no time, but push at all;
For Women foon are rais'd, and foon they fall.
Give their first Fury Leisure to relent,
They melt like Ice, and fuddenly repent.

T'enjoy the Maid, will that thy Suit advance? 'Tis a hard Queftion, and a doubtful Chance. One Maid, corrupted, bauds the better for't; Another for herself wou'd keep the Sport. Thy Bus'nefs may be further'd or delay'd: But by my Counsel, let alone the Maid: E'en tho' fhe fhou'd confent to do the Feat; The Profit's little, and the Danger great.

I will not lead thee through a rugged Road;
But where the Way lies open, safe, and broad.
Yet if thou find'ft her very much thy Friend,
And her good Face her Diligence commend :
Let the fair Miftrefs have thy first Embrace,
And let the Maid come after in her Place.

But this I will advise, and mark my words;
For 'tis the best Advice my Skill affords :
If needs thou with the Damfel wilt begin,
Before th' Attempt is made, make sure to win :
For then the Secret better will be kept;
And she can tell no Tales when once fhe's dipt.
'Tis for the Fowler's Int'reft to beware,
The Bird intangled fhou'd not 'fcape the Snare.'
The Fish, once prick'd, avoids the bearded Hook,
And spoils the Sport of all the neighb❜ring Brook.
But if the Wench be thine, fhe makes thy Way,
And, for thy fake, her Mistress will betray;
Tell all she knows, and all the hears her fay.
Keep well the Counsel of thy faithful Spy:
So fhalt thou learn whene'er the treads awry.

All things the Stations of their Seasons keep;
And certain Times there are to fow and reap.
Ploughmen and Sailors for the Season stay,
One to plough Land, and one to plough the Sea:
So fhou'd the Lover wait the lucky Day.
Then stop thy Suit, it hurts not thy Defign:
But think, another Hour the may be thine.
And when the celebrates her Birth at home,
Or when the views the publick Shows of Rome :
Know, all thy Vifits then are troublesome.
Defer thy Work, and put not then to Sea,
For that's a boding and a ftormy Day.

}

}

Elfe

Elfe take thy Time, and, when thou canft, begin::
To break a Jewish Sabbath, think no Sin:
Nor e'en on fuperftitious Days abftain ;
Not when the Romans were at Allia flain.
Ill Omens in her Frowns are understood;
When she's in humour, ev'ry Day is good.
But than her Birth-day seldom comes a worse;
When Bribes and Presents must be fent of course ;
And that's a bloody Day, that cofts thy Purse.
Be ftanch; yet Parfimony will be vain :
The craving Sex will ftill the Lover drain.
No Skill can fhift them off, nor Art remove;
They will be begging, when they know we love.
The Merchant comes upon th' appointed Day,
Who shall before thy Face his Wares display.
To choose for her she craves thy kind Advice;
Then begs again, to bargain for the Price:
But when she has her Purchase in her Eye,
She hugs thee close, and kisses thee to buy.
'Tis what I want, and 'tis a Pen'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 fight;

Now curfe the time when thou wert taught to write.
She keeps her Birth-day; you must send the Chear;
And she'll be Born a hundred times a year.
With daily Lies fhe dribs thee into Coft;
That Ear-ring dropt a Stone, that Ring is loft.
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 wou'd be wearied ere I told a Part.

}

By

By Letters, not by Words thy Love begin;
And ford the dang'rous Paffage with thy Pen.
If to her Heart thou aim'ft 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. 1
With promis'd Gifts her eafy 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 Harveft cheats the starving Lord.
Buy not thy first Enjoyment, left it prove
Of bad example to thy future Love:
But get it Gratis; and she'll give thee more,
For fear of lofing what she gave before.
The lofing Gamester shakes the Box in vain,
And bleeds, and lofes on, in hopes to gain.
Write then, and in thy Letter, as I faid,
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 ev'ry 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 fimple Women preach :
A learned Letter oft has made a Breach.

;

La

In a familiar Stile your Thoughts convey,
And write fuch Things as Present you wou'd say ;
Such Words as from the Heart may feem to move:
'Tis Wit enough, to make her think you love.
If Seal'd fhe fends it back, and will not read,
Yet hope, in time, the Bufinefs may fucceed.
In time the Steer will to the Yoke fubmit ;
In time the reftiff Horfe will bear the Bit.
E'en the hard Plough-fhare Use will wear away :
And stubborn Steel in length of Time decay.
Water is foft, and Marble hard; and yet
We fee foft 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 unanfwer'd fhe retain'd;
No matter; there's a Point already gain'd :
For fhe, who reads, in time will answer too;
Things must be left by juft degrees to grow.
Perhaps the writes, but answers with Disdain,
And sharply bids you not to write again :
What the requires, the fears you should accord;
The Jilt wou'd not be taken at her word.

Mean time, if she be carried in her Chair,
Approach, but do not feem to know she's there.
Speak foftly to delude the Standers-by;
Or, if alond, then fpeak ambiguously.
If fauntring in the Portico the walk,

Move flowly too; for that's a time for Talk ¦
And fometimes follow, fometimes be her Guide:
But, when the Crowd permits, Go Side by Side.
Nor in the Play-house let her fit alone :
For fhe's the Play houfe, and the Play in one.
There thou may ft ogle, or by Signs advance
Thy Suit, and feem to touch her Hand by chance.