But, above all, the play-houfe is the place;
There's choice of quarry in that narrow chace.
There take thy ftand, and fharply looking out,
Soon may't thou find a mistress in the rout,
For length of time, or for a fingle bout.
The theatres are berries for the fair:
Like ants on mole-hills thither they repair;
Like bees to hives, fo num'roufly they throng,
It may be faid, they to that place belong.
Thither they fwarm, who have the public voice:
There choofe, if plenty not diftracts thy choice.
To fee, and to be feen, in heaps they run;
Some to undo, and some to be undone.
From Romulus the rife of plays began,
To his new fubjects a commodious man;
Who, his unmarried foldiers to supply,
Took care the commonwealth should multiply:
Providing Sabine women for his braves,
Like a true king, to get a race of slaves.
His play-house not of Parian marble made,
Nor was it spread with purple fails for fhade.
The stage with rufhes, or with leaves they ftrew'd:
No fcenes in profpect, no machining God.
On rows of homely turf they fat to fee,
Crown'd with the wreaths of ev'ry common tree.
There, while they fat in ruftic majesty,
Each lover had his mistress in his eye;
And whom he faw most fuiting to his mind,
For joys of matrimonial rape defign'd.
Scarce could they wait the plaudit in their haste;
But, ere the dances and the fong were past,
The monarch gave the signal from his throne;
And, rifing, bade his merry men fall on.
The martial crew, like foldiers ready preft,
Just at the word (the word too was, The Best)
With joyful cries each other animate;
Some choose, and fome at hazard feize their mate.
As doves from eagles, or from wolves the lambs,
So from their lawless lovers fly the dames.
Their fear was one, but not one face of fear;
Some rend the lovely treffes of their hair;
Some fhriek, and fome are ftruck with dumb despair.
Her abfent mother one invokes in vain;
One ftands amaz'd, not daring to complain;
The nimbler truft their feet, the flow remain.
But nought availing, all are captives led,
Trembling and blushing, to the genial bed.
She who too long refifted, or deny'd,
The lufty lover made by force a bride;
And, with fuperior ftrength, compell'd her to his fide.
Then footh'd her thus:--My foul's far better part,
Cease weeping, nor afflict thy tender heart:
For what thy father to thy mother was,
That faith to thee, that folemn vow I pass.
Thus Romulus became fo popular;
This was the way to thrive in peace and war;
Το pay his army, and fresh whores to bring:
Who would not fight for fuch a gracious king?
Thus love in theatres did first improve;
And theatres are ftill the scenes of love:
Nor fhun the chariot's, and the courfer's race;
The Circus is no inconvenient place.
No need is there of talking on the hand;
Nor nods, nor figns, which lovers understand.
But boldly next the fair your feat provide;
Close as you can to hers, and fide by fide.
Pleas'd or unpleas'd, no matter; crouding fit:
For fo the laws of publick fhows permit.
Then find occafion to begin discourse;
Inquire, whofe chariot this, and whofe that horfe?
To whatsoever fide fhe is inclin'd,
Suit all your inclinations to her mind;
Like what she likes; from thence your court begin; And whom the favours, with that he may win.
But when the statues of the Deities,
In chariots roll'd, appear before the prize;
When Venus comes, with deep devotion rife.
If dust be on her lap, or grains of fand,
Brush both away with your officious hand.
If none be there, yet brush that nothing thence;
And still to touch her lap make fome pretence.
Touch any thing of hers; and if her train
Sweep on the ground, let it not fweep in vain;
But gently take it up, and wipe it clean;
And while you wipe it, with obferving eyes,
Who knows but you may see her naked thighs!
Obferve, who fits behind her; and beware,
Left his incroaching knee should press the fair.
Light service takes light minds: for fome can tell
Of favours won, by laying cushions well:
By fanning faces fome their fortune meet;
And fome by laying footstools for their feet.
These overtures of love the Circus gives;
Nor at the fword-play lefs the lover thrives:
For there the fon of Venus fights his prize;
And deepest wounds are oft receiv'd from eyes.
One, while the crowd their acclamations make,
Or while he bets, and puts his ring to stake,
Is ftruck from far, and feels the flying dart;
And of the fpectacle is made a part.
Cæfar would reprefent a naval fight,
For his own honour, and for Rome's delight.
From either sea the youths and maidens come;
And all the world was then contain'd in Rome.
In this vaft concourfe, in this choice of game,
What Roman heart but felt a foreign flame?
Once more our prince prepares to make us glad;
And the remaining Eaft to Rome will add.
Rejoice, ye Roman foldiers, in your urn;
Your enfigns from the Parthians fhall return;
And the flain Craffi fhall no longer mourn.
A youth is fent thofe trophies to demand;
And bears his father's thunder in his hand:
Doubt not th' imperial boy in wars unfeen;
In childhood all of Cæfar's race are men.
Celestial feeds fhoot out before their day,
Prevent their years, and brook no dull delay.
Thus infant Hercules the fnakes did press,
And in his cradle did his fire confefs.
Bacchus, a boy, yet like a hero fought,
And early spoils from conquer'd India brought.
Thus you your
father's troops fhall lead to fight,
And thus fhall vanquish in your father's right.
These rudiments you to your lineage owe;
Born to increase your titles, as you grow.
Brethren you had, revenge your brethren flain,
You have a father, and his rights maintain.
Arm'd by your country's parent, and your own,
Redeem your country, and reftore his throne.
Your enemies affert an impious caufe;
You fight both for divine and human laws.
Already in their cause they are o'ercome:
Subject them too, by force of arms, to Rome.
Great father Mars with greater Cæfar join,
To give a profp'rous omen to your line:
One of you is, and one shall be divine.
I prophesy you shall, you shall o'ercome:
My verse shall bring you back in triumph home.
Speak in my verfe, exhort to loud alarms:
O were my numbers equal to your arms!
Then would I fing the Parthians overthrow;
'T'heir fhot averse fent from a flying bow:
The Parthians, who already flying fight,
Already give an omen of their flight.
O when will come the day, by heav'n defign'd,
When thou, the best and fairest of mankind,
R
Drawn by white horses fhalt in triumph ride,
With conquer'd flaves attending on thy fide;
Slaves, that no longer can be fafe in flight;
O glorious object, O furprising fight,
O day of publick joy; too good to end in night!
On fuch a day, if thou, and, next to thee,
Some beauty fits, the spectacle to fee:
If the inquire the names of conquer'd kings,
Of mountains, rivers, and their hidden fprings,
Answer to all thou know'ft; and, if need be,
Of things unknown feem to speak knowingly :
This is Euphrates, crown'd with reeds; and there
Flows the swift Tigris with his fea-green hair.
Invent new names of things unknown before;
Call this. Armenia, that the Cafpian shore;
Call this a Mede, and that a Parthian youth;
Talk probably; no matter for the truth.
In feafts, as at our shows, new means abound;
More pleasure there, than that of wine, is found.
The Paphian Goddess there her ambush lays;
And Love betwixt the horns of Bacchus plays:
Deûres increase at ev'ry swelling draught;
Brisk vapours add new vigour to the thought.
There Cupid's purple wings no flight afford;
But, wet with wine, he flutters on the board.
He shakes his pinions, but he cannot move;
Fix'd he remains, and turns a maudlin Love.
Wine warms the blood, and makes the fpirits flow;
Care flies, and wrinkles from the forehead go:
Exalts the poor, invigorates the weak;
Gives mirth and laughter, and a rofy cheek.
Bold truths it fpeaks; and spoken, dares maintain;
And brings our old fimplicity again.
Love sparkles in the cup, and fills it higher:
Wine feeds the flames, and fuel adds to fire.
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