On fortune's foretop timely fix thy hold;
Now fpeak and fpeed; for Venus loves the bold.
No rules of rhetoric here I need afford:
Only begin, and truft the following word;
It will be witty of its own accord.

A&t well the lover; let thy fpeech abound
In dying words, that reprefent thy wound:
Diftruft not her belief; the 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 profest.
For your own fakes be pitiful, ye fair;
For a feign'd paffion may a true prepare.
By flatteries we prevail on womankind;
As hollow banks by ftreams are undermin'd.
Tell her, her face is fair, her eyes are sweet:
Her taper fingers praife, and little feet.
Such praifes ev'n the chafte are pleas`d to hear;
Both maids and matrons hold their beauty dear.
Once naked Pallas with Jove's queen appear'd;
And fill they grieve that Venus was preferr'd.
Praife the proud peacock, and he spreads his train:
Be filent, and he pulls it in again.
Pleas'd is the courfer in his rapid race;
Applaud his running, and he mends his pace.
But largely promife, and devoutly fwear;
And, if need be, call every God to hear.
love fits above, forgiving with a fmile
The perjuries that eafy maids beguile.
He wore to Juno by the Stygian lake:
Forfworn, he dares not ap cxample make,
Or puni falfhood for his own dear fake.
'Tis for our interest that the Gods should be;
Let us believe them: I believe, they fee,
And both reward and purifh equally.
Not that they live above, like lazy drones,
Or kings below, fupine upon their thrones.
Lead then your lives as prefent in their fight;
Be juft in dealings, and defend the right;
by frand betray not, nor opprefs by might.
But 'tis a venial fin to cheat the fair;
All men have liberty of confcience there.
On cheating nymphs a cheat is well defign'd;
Tis a profane and a deceitful kind.

'Tis faid, that Egypt for nine years was dry, Nor Nile did floods, nor heaven did rain fupply. A foreigner at length inform'd the king, That faughter'd guefts would kindly moisture bring.

The king reply'd: On thee the lot fhall fall;
Be thou, my gueft, the facrifice for all.
Thus Phalaris Perillus taught to low,
And made him feafon firft the brazen cow.
A rightful doom, the laws of nature cry,
'Tis, the artificers of death should die.
Thus justly women fuffer by deceit;
Their practice authorifes us to cheat.
Beg her, with tears, thy warm defires to grant ;
For tears will pierce a heart of adamant.

If tears will not be squeez'd, then rub your eye,
Or 'point the lids and feem at least to cry.
Kifs, if you can: refiftance if the make,
And will not give you kifles, let her take.
ky, fy, you naughty man! are words of course;
Sie Aruggles but to be fubdued by force.

Kifs only foft, I charge you, and beware,
With your hard brittles not to brush the fair.
He who has gain'd a kif-, and gains no more,
Deferves to lofe the blifs he got before.
If once the kifs, her meaning is expreft;
There wants but little pushing for the rest:
Which if thou doft not gain, by ftrength or art,
The name of clown then fuits with thy defert;
'Tis downright dulnefs, and a fhameful part.
Perhaps, the calls it force; but, if the fcape,
She will not thank you for th' omitted rape.
The fex is cunning to conceal their fires;
They would be forc'd ev'n to their own defires,
They feem t' accuse you, with a downcast sight;
But in their fouls confefs you did them right.
Who might be forc'd, and yet untouch'd depart,
Thank with their tongues, but curfe you with

their heart.

Fair Phoebe and her fifter did prefer
To their dull mates the noble ravisher.

What Deidamio did in days of yore,
The tale is old, but worth the reading o'er.
When Venus had the golden apple gain'd,
And the just judge fair Helen had obtain'd :
When the with triumph was at Troy receiv'd,
The Trojans joyful, while the Grecians griev'd:
They vow'd revenge of violated laws,
And Greece was arming in the cuckold's caufe:
Achilles, by his mother warn'd from war,
Difguis'd his fex, and lurk'd among the fair.
What! means Æacides to spin and few ?
With fpear and fword in field thy valour fhew;
And, leaving this, the nobler Pallas know.
Why doft thou in that hand the distaff wield,
Which is more worthy to fuftain the field?
Or with that other draw the woolly twine,
The fame the Fates for Hector's thread allign?
Brandifh thy falchion in thy powerful hand,
Which can alone thy ponderous lance command.
In the fame room by chance the royal maid
Was lodg'd, and, by his feeming fex betray'd,
Close to her fide the youthful hero laid.

I know not how his courtship he began;
But, to her coft fhe found it was a man.
'Tis thought the ftruggled; but withal 'tis
thought,

Her wish was to be conquer'd, when she fought.
For when, difelos'd, and haftening to the field,
He laid his distaff down, and took the fhield,
With tears her humble fuit fhe did prefer,
And thought to flay the grateful ravisher.
She fighs, fhe fobs, the begs him not to part:
And now 'tis nature what before was art.
She ftrives by force her lover to detain,
And wishes to be ravifh'd once again.
This is the fex; they will not first begin,
But, when compell'd, are pleas'd to fuifer fin.
Is there, who thinks that women first should woo?
Lay by thy fell-conceit, thou foolish beau.
Begin, and fave their modefty the shame;
'Tis well for thee, if they receive thy flame.
'Tis decent for a man to fpeak his mind;
They but expect th' occafion to be kind.
Afk, that thou may'ft enjoy; the waits for this;
And on thy firft advance depends thy blifs.

So, by their happy conduct, may you come
With conqueft back to your sweet native home;
As you receive the ranfom which I bring
(Refpecting Jove and the far-fhooting king),
And break my daughter's bonds, at my delire;
And glad with her return her grieving fire.

[stand.

With fhouts of loud acclaim the Greeks decree To take the gifts, to fet the damfel free. The king of men alone with fury burn'd; And, haughty, these opprobrious words return'd: Hence, holy dotard, and avoid my fight, Ere evil intercept thy tardy flight: Nor dare to tread this interdicted strand, Left not that idle fceptre in thy hand, Nor thy God's crown, my vow'd revenge with-. Hence, on thy life: the captive maid is mine; Whom not for price or prayers I will refign: Mine fhe fhall be, till creeping age and time Her bloom have wither'd, and confum'd her prime. Till then my royal bed she shall attend; And, having first adorn'd it, late afcend: This, for the night; by day, the web and loom," And homely houfhold-task, shall be her doom, Far from thy lov'd embrace, and her sweet native home.

He faid: the helpless prieft reply'd no more. But fped his fteps along the hoarfe refounding fhore:

Silent he fled; fecure at length he food, Devoutly curs'd his foes, and thus invok'd his God:

O fource of facred light, attend my prayer, God with the filver bow and golden hair; Whom Chryfa, Cilla, Tenedos obeys, And whofe broad eye their happy foil furveys; If, Smintheus, I have pour'd before thy fhrine The blood of oxen, goats, and ruddy wine, And larded thighs on loaded altars laid, Hear, and my juft revenge propitious aid. Pierce the proud Greeks, and with thy fhafts attest How much thy power is injur'd in thy priest.

He pray'd, and Phoebus, hearing, urg'd his flight, With fury kindled, from Olympus' height; His quiver o'er his ample shoulders threw; [flew. His bow twang'd, and his arrows rattled as they Black as a formy night, he rang'd around The tents, and compafs'd the devoted ground. Then with full force his deadly bow he bent, And feather'd fates among the mules and fump

ters fent:

Th' effay of rage, on faithful dogs the next;
And laft, in human hearts his arrows fix'd.
The God nine days the Greeks at rovers kill'd,
Nine days the camp with funeral fires was fill'd;
The tenth, Achilles, by the Queen's command,
Who bears heavens awful fceptre in her hand,
A council fummon'd: for the Goddefs griev'd
Her favour'd host should perish unreliev'd.

The kings affembled, foon their chief inclose;
Then from his feat the Goddess born arose,
And thus undaunted spoke: What now remains,
But that once more we tempt the watery plains,
And, wandering homeward, feek our fafety hence,
In flight at leaft, if we can find defence?
Such woes at once encompaís us about,
The plague within the camp, the fword without.

Confult, O king, the prophets of th' event:
And whence thefe ills, and what the Gods intent,
Let them by dreams explore; for dreams from
Jove are fent.

What want of offer'd victims, what offence
In fact committed could the Sun incente,
To deal his deadly fhafts? What may remove
His fettled hate, and reconcile his love?
That he may look propitious on our toils; [fpoils.
Aud hungry graves no more be glutted with our
Thus to the king of men the hero spoke,
Then Calchas the defir'd occafion took :
Calchas the facred feer, who had in view
Things prefent and the paft; and things to come
foreknew.

Supreme of augurs, who by Phœbus taught,
The Grecian powers to Troy's deftruction brought.
Skill'd in the fecret caufes of their woes,
The reverend prieft in graceful act arofe:
And thus bespoke Pelides: Care of Jove,
Favour'd of all th' immortal Powers above;
Wouldst thou the feeds deep-fown of mischief
know,

And why, provok'd Apollo bends his bow?
Plight first thy faith, inviolably true,
To fave me from thofe ills, that may enfue.
For I fhall tell ungrateful truths, to those
Whofe boundless powers of life and death dispose.
And fovereigns, ever jealous of their state,
Forgive not thofe whom once they mark for hate;
Ev'n though th' offence they feemingly digest,
Revenge, like embers rak'd, within their breaft,
Burfts forth in flames; whofe unrefifted power
Will feize th' unwary wretch, and foon devour.
Such, and no lefs is he, on whom depends
The fum of things; and whom my tongue of
force offends.

Secure me then from his forefeen intent,
That what his wrath may doom, thy valour may
prevent.

To this the ftern Achilles made reply : Be bold; and on my plighted faith rely, To speak what Phœbus has inspir'd thy soul For common good; and fpeak without control. His Godhead I invoke, by him I fwear, That while my noftrils draw this vital air, None fhall prefume to violate those bands; Or touch thy perfon with unhallow'd hands: Ev'n not the king of men that all commands.

At this, retuming heart, the prophet faid: Nor hetacomb unflain, nor vows unpaid, On Greeks, accurs'd, this dire contagion bring, Or call for vengeance from the bowyer King; But he the tyrant, whom none dares refitt, Affronts the Godhead in his injur’d priest : He keeps the damfels captive in his chain, [vain. And prefents are refus'd, and prayers preferr'd in For this th' avenging Power employs his darts; And empties all his quiver in our hearts; Thus will perfift, relentless in his ire, Till the fair flave be render'd to her fire: And ranfom-free restor'd to his abode, With facrifice to reconcile the God: Then he, perhaps, aton'd by prayer, may ceafe His vengeance juftly vow'd, and give the peace,

Thus having faid, he fate: thus answer'd then, Upstarting from his throne, the king of men, His breaft with fury fill'd, his eyes with fire; Which rolling round, he shot in fparkles on the fire: Augur of ill, whofe tongue was never found Without a priestly curfe, or boding found; For not one blefs'd event foretold to me. Pafs'd through that mouth, or pafs'd unwillingly. And now thou doft with lies the throne invade, By practice harden'd in thy flandering trade. Obtending heaven, for whate'er ills befal; And fputtering under fpecious names thy gall. Now Phoebus is provok'd, his rites and laws Are in his pricft profan'd, and I the caufe: Since I detain a flave, my fovereign prize; And facred gold, your idol-god, defpife. I love her well: and well her merits claim, To ftand preferr'd before my Grecian dame: Not Clytemneftra's felf in beauty's bloom More charm'd, or better ply'd the various loom : Mine is the maid; and brought in happy hour, With every houshold grace adorn'd, to blefs my nuptial bower.

Yet shall the be restor'd; fince public good For private intereft ought not to be withstood, To fave th' effufion of my people's blood. But right requires, if I refign my own, I should not fuffer for your fakes alone; Alone excluded from the prize I gain'd, And by your common fuffrage have obtain❜d. The flave without a ranfom fhall be fent : It refts for you to make th' equivalent. To this the fierce Theffalian prince reply'd : O first in power, but palling all in pride, Griping, and still tenacious of thy hold, [foul'd, Wouldst thou the Grecian chiefs, though largely Should give the prizes they had gain'd before, And with their lofs thy facrilege restore? Whate'er by force of arms the foldier got, Is each his own, by dividend of lot: Which to refume, were both unjust and bafe; Not to be borne but by a fervile race. But this we can: if Saturn's fon bestows The fack of Troy, which he by promife owes; Then fhall the conquering Greeks thy lofs reftore, And with large intereft make th' advantage more. To this Atrides anfwer'd: Though thy boast Affumes the foremost name of all our hoft, Pretend not, mighty man, that what is mine, Control'd by thee, I tamely fhould refign. Shall I release the prize I gain'd by right, In tiken towns, and many a bloody fight, While thou detain'ft Brifeis in thy bands, By priefly gloffing on the God's commands? Refolve on this, (a short alternative) Quit mine, or, in exchange, another give; Elfe I, affure thy foul, by fovereign right Will feize thy captive in thy own despight. Or from flout Ajax, or Ulyffes, bear What other prize my fancy hall prefer : Then foftly murmur, or aloud complain, Rage as you pleafe, you shall refift in vain. But more of this, in proper time and place; To things of greater moment let us pale. VOL: VI.

At this Achilles roll'd his furious eyes,
Fix'd on the king afkant; and thus replies:
O, impudent, regardful of thy own,
Whofe thoughts are center'd on thyfelf alone,
Advanc'd to fovereign fway, for better ends
Than thus like abject flaves to treat thy friends.
What Greek is he, that, urg'd by thy command,
Against the Trojan troops will lift his hand?
Not I: nor fuch enforc'd refpe& Lowe;
Nor Pergamus I hate, nor Priam is my foe.
What wrong from Troy remote could I fuftain,
To leave my fruitful foil and happy reign,
And plough the furges of the formy main?
Thee, frontlef; man, we follow'd from afar;
Thy infruments of death, and tools of war.
Thine is the triumph; ours the toil alone:
We bear thee on our backs, and mount thee on
the throne.

For thee we fall in fight; for thee redrefs
Thy baffled brother; not the wrongs of Greece.
And now thou threaten'it with unjuft decree,
To punish thy affronting heaven, on me.
To feize the prize which I fo dearly bought;
By common fuffrage given, confirm'd by lot.
Mean match to thine: for ftill above the reft
Thy hook'd rapacious Lands ufurp the beft.
Though mine are fik in fight, to force the prey;
And last fustain the labours of the day.
Nor grudge I thee the much the Grecians give,
Nor murmuring take the little I receive.
Yet ev'n this little, thou, who wouldft engross
The whole, infatiate, envy't as thy lofs.
Know, then, for Phthia fix'd is my return:
Better at home my ill-paid pains to mourn,
Than from an equal here fuitain the public fcorn.
The king, whole brows with fhining gold were
bound,
Who faw his throne with fcepter'd flaves encom-
pafs'd round,

Thus anfwer'd ftern: Go, at thy pleasure, go:
We need not fuch a friend, nor fear we fuch a foe,
There will not want to follow me in fight:
Jove will affift, and Jove affert my right.
But thon of all the kings (his care below)
Art leaft at my command, and most my foe.
Debates, diffenfions, uproars, are thy joy;
Provok'd without offence, and practis'd to deftroy.
Strength is of brutes, and not thy boast alone;
At least 'tis lent from heaven; and not thy own.
Fly then, ill-manner'd, to thy native land,
And there thý ant-born Myrmidons command.
But mark this menace; fiuce I must refign
My black-ey'd maid, to pleafe the Powers divine

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