Ovids remedy of love directing lovers how they may by reason suppresse the passion of love.

Ovids Remedy of Love.

Lib. 2.

HItherto we have answered envy, now againe I will recall my selfe, draw in my raine; And I the Poet will proceede to runne On in that circle which I have begunne. When thou art to performe the youthfull deed, And that to lie with thee she hath agreed; And that the promis'd night is now at hand, Wherein unto thy bargaine thou must stand: Lye with some other, least thou being ful of pleasure Thy Mistresse doe requite thee with such measure, And answer thee againe, with such sweet height Of dalliance that may take thee with delight. On any one bestow thy strength of Love, And thy next affection will more milder prove. Venus is still most powerfull at the first, But heate seekes shades, and water quenches thirst. I am asham'd, yet to speake I will assay, Joyne Venus shapes in an uncomely way:

Which may at any time be easily done, For they suppose nought doth them mis-become. Then to set open the Windows I thee bid, And by day-light marke those parts that are hid. And whē the pleasur's ended which thou hadst desir'd And that thy minde and body both are tyr'd: While thou repentst that thou a maid didst touch, And resolv'st nere againe to doe so much. Then observe the faults that in her bodie are. Looke on her when she lies nak'd and bare. If these rules seeme of small use unto any Though all availe not, some may being many. The little Vipers biting ki••ls the Bull, And a little hound the Boare will tugge and pull: Of my precepts, being many, the belt take, Many collected a great heape doe make. But since so many men and mindes there are To credit me in all things take no care; For that which doth not offend us, may be thought, Perhaps by another to bee a fault. He that hath seene those parts should not be seene His love will coole, though it hath furious beene. He that hath seen when his sweete-heart doth rise From Venus encounter and her Veneries, What staines and spots most shamefully are spred, On the ••olluted and defiled bed. If these things can delight you, he will say, Proceede you lovers, and still sport and play.

For when that Loves torch hath enflam'd your mind, Your suddain heate then no dislike can finde: For when Cupid drawes his arrowes to the head, The greater wounds of Love are thereby bred. And then of Lovers, the wounded company Require the greater care and remedy. What shall we say of those who have laine hid In some secret corner, while their sweet-heart did Make water, and so by that meanes did see Those parts which for modesty should conceled be? The gods forbid we should such rules invent, Though they profit, yet they are not expedient. But I advise thee for to have two Loves; Hee that loves many, to none loving proves. When Loue is so devided, then at length, One Love abateth from the others strength, Great Rivers that within the full bankes glided, Grow-lesle, being into smaller streames divided And if stickes be pull'd asunder, then the fire Doth straight goe out, and the flame doth expire. One Anchor cannot hold a stout ship fast, One hooke is not enough for to be cast Into the water: he that provides two things Obtaines his ends and still the victory wins. Thou that unwillingly didst one sweet-heart serve, Finde out another that may thy love deserve. Minos forgot his love to Pasiphae, When he in loue with Progne needs would be.

Alcinaeus did his Phegis love forget, When he Callirhoe to his bed did get. And Paris still had Oenone loved, If the Whore Hellen be had not approved. Pandion of his wife Progne tooke care, Till her Sister Philomel did seeme more faire: Why should I more examples here unfold? "Since a new Love makes men forsake the old. A Mother for her childs death makes lesse mone That had many, than she doth that had but one. And doe not thinke that I new lawes doe mention, Yet would it were the glory of my invention, Since Atrides who did all things see, this saw, And was not all Greece by him kept in awe? For he himselfe was conquer'd by the looke Of Cryses whom he in the warres had tooke: But yet her father foolishly then wept, Because he had her from Achilles kept: Why dost thou weepe old man for the happy fate Of thy Daughter hindering so her happy state? For when Chalchas trusting in Achilles aide, Had commanded that he should restore the Maide, Atrides said, even she that's next in fame, And some letters tooke away hath the same name, Her let Achilles yeeld me if he be wise, Else he shall feele that power he doth despise. If this action (Grecians) foule to you appeare, Know that my stout hand doth the Scepter beare:

If I am King, then she shall with me sleepe, Else may Thersites all my Kingdomes keepe. This said, he had her in his first loves stead, His new love cur'd the old, for straight it fled. As Agamemnon did, looke thou dost doe, Put love into a maze by loving two. If thou wovldst know to get them, read our Arts Of Love, and thou shalt have choise of Sweet-hearts. But if our Rules have any power to heale, I Apollo doe his Art by me reveale. Though thou burnst as if Aetna did thee enfold, Seeme to thy Mistresse in affection cold: Dissemble thy paine, that thou maist her deceive, And laugh then, when thou inwardly dost grieve. I would not have thee straight way quench thy flame That over thy affections thou maist raigne. I command thee onely but to counterfeit, As if thy former affection thou didst quit: And so by imitation thou shalt doe That which thou faignedst, really and true. For oftentimes that I might so shun drinking, I would counterfeit my selfe asleepe by winking: And while I in counterfeiting did proceed, I many times have fallen asleepe indeed. So those who cunning in counterfeiting are, Doe seldome fall into Loves spring or snare. The mind by custome doth Love entertaine, And it by custome is forgot againe.

He that can counterfeit himselfe no Lover, By counterfeiting shall his health recover. Come if she bid thee at the appointed night, And if shee shut her doore, yet beare it light. Doe not thou use soft complements, or prate With flattering words, or scold before her gate: Or if that shee doe lock thee out in spight, Doe not thou at her threshold lye all night: Nor yet complaine unto her in the morning; Nor shew a signe of sorrow for her scorning Thy love: for when she sees thou dost not grieve For her disdaine, she her disdaine will leave. Thy Love will cease, if thou thus carelesse seeme. The Horse resists the bridle when 'tis seene. But use such pretended shewes as I have bid, "Good effects at first are in their causes hid. Loves cure thus by a close way shall be done, "Since birds that see the nets, the nets doe shun. L••ve her not still when shee doth thee despise, If shee disdaine thee let thy courage rise. If her gate stand open passe by though she call, On the appoynted night come not at all. Patience will make thee to endure annoy, And from thy sufferings thou shalt receive joy, There is no hardnesse in my Rules or Art: For of a Counsellour now I play the part. And since mens mindes doe differ, and doe varie, Our Art shall varie that may now miscarry.

Since there are thousand shapes of misery, There are thousand salves to cure each misery: Some bodies must be lanc'd, and sear'd, and cut, And some by potions and hearbes health have got. But if thou art of a more softer mind, So that Love in his fetters doth thee bind, And like a Conquerour holds thee at his beck, And cruelly doth tread upon thy neck, To struggle with thy passion thou must cease, Let thy windes drive thy ship as they doe please. I would have thee quench the thirst of thy desire, And with some common water quench the fire. And thou maist drinke farre more than will suffice, Till full of water thou dost it despise, With thy Sweet-heart take thy fill of delight, And in her company spend both day and night: For thy Love will end with such satiety, And thou shalt be able to want her company, And tarry from her: hungry Love is tyr'd With plenty, and doth loath what he desir'd. Be not thou jealous, jealousie doth nourish Love, and doth make it both to last and flourish. If to extinguish Love thou hast a care, Extinguish jealousie and idle feare. He that fears his Mistresse should be taken from him, There is no remedy can worke upon him. The Mother for that sonne doth take most care, Of whose returne from the wars she stands in feare.

Neare the Colline Gate a Temple there doth stand, Which is from Erix called, and so nam'd: There love they, in the Lethaean waves they drench, And Cupids torches in those waters quench. There young-men pray, they may their lovesforget, That on disdainefull Maides their love have set: But at the last, thus Cupid said to me; (Else 'twas a dreame, a dreame it well might be) O thou, who teachest men how they should love: And teachest them the remedy to remove Their passion: Ovid adde these rules of mine Unto those preceps, and those rules of thine: Thinke on thy troubles and thy misery, The thought of crosses will make love to flye: "And God doch never none so intirely blesse, "But that he gives them troubles more or lesse. He that hath suits or feareth his rent day, Is wrested with a debt which he must pay. He that hath a hard father, that doth keepe him in, Let him thinke on his father, though unseene. If thou seest a marryed man in a poore estate, Thinke that his wife doth cause his haplesse fate. If thou in the Country a fruitfull Vineyard hast, Take care lest ill winds should thy rich Grapes blast. If he have a ship that is returning home, Let him thinke what losses oft by Sea doe come. A Sonne at the Warres to trouble thee may be able, Or else a Daughter that is marrigeable.

"What actions to our life belonging are, "But will afford us cause of griefe and care. If Paris had remembred his brothers fate, Their deaths had made him Hellena to hate: And Cupid more unto me then had spake, But that out of my dreame I then did wake. For when my dreame (sure 'twas a dream) had left me, My waking thus, of many Rules bereft me: Yet will I still goe on, and no•• forsake My intended course, till I an end doe make. Let Lovers take heede of solitude, they may be Safer, if they frequent good company: For thoughts of Love by being alone increase; But if thou keepe company, then they will cease. Thou wilt be sad, if that thou art alone, Thy Mistresse beauty into thy minde will come. And thus the nights are, then the dayes more sad, Because no company can then be had. Shun not discourse, nor shut thy chamber doore, Nor in the darke, thy selfe with teares deplore. And have some Pylades, that may cure Orestes. This use of friendship' mongst others not the least is. What did hurt Phyllis, but that she did love To frequent the Wood, and solitary Grove? What caused her by her owne hands to dye, But sollitude, and want of company? For like to Bacchus Nimphs through griefe and care She was wont to goe with loose disheaveld haire,

And sometimes looking to the Sea she would stand, Sometimes being weary lye downe on the sand. Faithlesse Demophoon, full of treachery; Faithlesse Demophoon she aloud did cry To the deafe waves, that 'gainst the shoares did breake, While sobs did breake off those words she did speak. There was a narrow path cover'd with a shade, By which to the Sea she oft her journey made: Her miserable steppes had even worne This new way walking on't as one forlorne: And with a pale countenance being hither come, Upon her silken girdle she looketh downe: She looks upon the bonghes, doubts, and doth feare, And to doe what shee desired, she doth not dare. At last her fingers about her neck did knit A halter and so hangd her selfe with it. O Phyllis! hadst thou not beene alone, The woods for Phyllis had not made such mone. For every wood such griefe for thee conceives, That for thee each yeare it mourns without Leaves, Le maids and men by Phyllis example take; Beware of being alone for Phyllis sake. There was a yong man that had almost done What my Muse prescribes, & to his health was come: But while that he kept company with each Lover, Hee lost that health he did before recover: And Love did take againe his Golden Dart, And shot this young man deeply to the heart.

If thou dost love, and wouldst not love, then see That thou doe shunne all amorous company. For unto Cattell this much hurt hath done, Who from each other take infection. Their Eyes, that looke on bad eyes, are hurt by it, Bodies to bodies infection doe transmit. And sometimes a Riverthat's hard by doth flow, And moisten places that are dry in show. So love concealed through thy veines will glide, If with thy Mistresse thou dost still abide: And in framing excuses we all witty be, That we may enjoy our Mistresse company. Another too was cured, but his paine Renew'd by living neere to her againe: His wounds of Love once heal'd, did bleed afresh, And so my Art thereby had no successe. If fire be neere a house, 'twill soone take fire: Keepe from those places that may stirre desire. For if that shee within the Cloysters walke, Goe not unto her, nor yet with her talke: For why shouldst thou by talking with her againe, Thy warme love with the heate of love enflame? If thou art hungry, thou wilt not refraine When meat's before thee, to fall to againe: And when the water springs up in thy sight, To see it spring up will thy thirst incite. The Bull that sees a Cow, follows her straight way: The Horse that sees a Mare, after her will neigh.

Yet love will not leave thee though this course thou take 'Tis not enough that thou dost her forsake: But bid her Mother, Sister, Nurse, farewell, And whosoe'r doth with thy Mistresse dwell. Her servant and waiting-maid both shunne. If with commendation to thee they doe come From thy Mistresse, and doe with a feigned teare Deliver it, their words doe thou not heare: Nor how she does see that thou doe not aske, Of this silence thou wilt find the good at last: And thou that of thy Mistresse doest complaine, Cease thy complaints, they doe increase thy flame. Thy love through silence better will expire, A silent suffering will quench thy desire. In silence strive thy affection to removed. Who saith too oft he doth not love, doth love; For flames of love are by degrees expell'd, It is a wound that must be slowly heal'd. Torrents more swiftly run than Rivers deepe, Yet this is shallow, that one course doth keepe: For love by srealth away from Lovers flyes, And by degrees it languishes and dyes. Yet never hate that Maid whom thou didst wooe, Such dispositions savage beasts doe shew. He is not cur'd that endeth love with hate, For still he loves, though he doth her forsake. They that were Lovers once, should not turne foes, Appias doth hate such dissentions as those.

For Love thus to insinuate doth use, And makes us love those whom we doe accuse: And wandring Love hath found out an invention To beget love by wrangling and dissention. A young man stood by his sweet-hearts bed-side, And she began to threaten him, and chide: Whereat in being ready away to goe, She bid him draw the Curtaines, he did so; Which as soone as he had ignorantly done, He saw his wife, then he grew mute and dumbe. But yet at last embracing her, quoth he, Pardon my errour, thou hast conquer'd me, And so from her he did depart in peace. Though he were cheated yet all strife did cease. Let her have those gifts she hath from thee obtain'd, For by such losses greater good is gain'd. But if that you by chance with her doe meet, These Rules which I doe give you, in mind keepe. Take courage, and expresse thy valour on her, Thy Penthesilea with thy weapon conquer. Thinke on thy Rivall, and how often late Thou hast stood knocking at thy Mistresse gate: And for those vowes which thou hast often made, Now punish her, let her be soundly paid. Curle not thy haire, nor when thou com'st to see Thy Mistresse, let thy Dublet unbutton'd be. Nor of other Maids take thou care to please any, But let her be to thee in stead of many.

But now I'le shew what slacks the eure of love, And you your selfe shall an example prove. For we hardly cease to love, when we beleeve We are belov'd againe, and so deceive Our selves; since we most credulous and apt be To deceive our selves with our selfe flattery. But unto oaths or words no credit give, For what than they doth oftner us deceive? Nor if thy Mistresse weepe, yet be not caught With teares, for she her eyes to weepe hath taught. Lovers minds are divers wayes besieg'd and try'd, Like a Rocke beaten with waves on every side. Shew not the causes why thou dost her leave, Nor tell her why thou griev'st, yet closely grieve. Tell her not of her faults whatsoe'r they are: For if she come to excuse them, then beware, For whatsoe'r her case is, you must know; In thy owne cause she will thee overthrow. In silence beare all: for if thou dost stand To reason with a Mayd, and still demand Satisfaction for some wrong thou didst sustaine, Thou wilt scold thy selfe in love at last againe. Yet to clip Cupids wings is not my intent, Nor shall his Bow by my Art be unbent: It is councell unto you which I doe sing, Therefore obey those Rules which I doe bring. And bright Apollo as thou still hast done, Assist my worke that it may yet goe on.

Phoebus is present; harke, me thinkes I heare His sounding Harpe; Phoebus' is present here: In his resplendant robe I have him espy'd, Richer than robes in Tyrian Purple dy'd. You then that are in love, see you compare Your Mistresses to those that are more faire. Each goddesse unto Paris faire did seeme; But comparing their beauties, he did then esteeme Venus the fairest: Thus let every lover Compare his mistresse beauty with some other. And so with others thou maist compare her mind. Let not affection thy judgement blinde. Briefe are the Rules I shall hereafter sing, Yet such, as unto many helpe did bring. And I have found the power of my owne Art, Which when I was in love did ease my smart. Keepe not thy Mistresse letters, nor them read; Much harme from reading letters doth proceed: Put them into the flame, and say this fire Shall burne this letter kindling my desire. Thestias in a brand her sonne did burne, To burne a trecherous letter wilt thou mourne? Remoove her picture; why shouldst thou be tooke With the faire shadow of a beauteous looke? And also see that thou dost shun those places, That are guilty of your amorous embraces. For when thou those places dost behold and view, Past pleasures will thy present griefe renew.

Thinke not thus with thy selfe, here she and I Have beene together, here did together lye: Here on this bed we slept, both with delight, And I enjoyd her here one happy night. Such thoughts as these doe but renew our flame, And make the wound of love to bleede againe. For as a Brimston match will new life give To dying cinders, making them revive, And as one sparke may kindle a great fire, So one sparke of love may enflame thy desire. So unlesse thou endeavour to shun all Occasions, that thy love to minde may call, Thy flame of love which seemed to expire, Will burne againe in thee with fresh desire. The Sea-man rejoyceth when he hath saild by A dangerous Rocke which in his way doth lye. But take heed of those places which appeare Pleasant, because thou hadst thy pleasure there: These places Rocks to shipwrack thee become, And as Carybdis see thou doe them shun. And in some things, we can but advise our best, And must commit to fortune all the rest For love when it is poorest, is most wise, Riches and wealth doe seeme to blinde his eyes. Poore men in Love oft-times more wisedome show, For Riches doe make Love a wanton grow. Why did none of poore Hecale a Wife make? Why did none Irus for a Husband take?

For this, the Mayd was poore, and therefore tarry'd: So was the other poore, and so not marry'd. Besides, the Theaters doe not thou frequent, While in thy brest love is not resident: For while thou hear'st their Songs and Musick often, And seest their Dances, these the mind doe soften. There fained Lovers oftentimes advance Themselves, and in a Maske doe meet and dance. Actors doe shew the Lovers cunning slight, And their shewing of it stirres up a delight. Read not Callimachus who of love doth write, And Cous who doth in that straine endite. Sappho hath made me love my Mistresse better, And the Teian Muse hath made my love waxe greater. Who can with safety read Tibullus Verse? Or those which Cinthia's Lover doth rehearse? Who that reads Gallus Verses doth not melt? And some by mine the like effects have felt. For unlesse Apollo doe frustrate my labour, There are no Love-lines can like mine get favour. Though there be some that faine would imitate me, Yet beleeve that none are Rivals unto thee. The more Hermione was lov'd of another, The more Orestes did begin to love her. Menelaus griev'd not when to Creete he went, And though his wife was absent, was content: But when he saw that Paris stole her had, Then for his wife he raged, and grew mad.

"Those that love not their wives, yet when they see "Another love their wives, they jealous be. This bred Achilles griefe and sad annoy, Because that Agamemnon should her enjoy: He wept, nor did he onely weepe it did seeme, But something did, or else he had slothfull beene. Truely although my wisedome be not much, I thinke that I my selfe have done as much: For out of envy to him he did receive Her first fruits, and the next to him did leave. Though that he ne're toucht Brysis he doth sweare By his Scepter, his Scepter was no God to heare. Then still passe by thy forsaken Mistresse gate, And let thy quick steps thence convey thee streight: And sure thou maist performe it, if thy mind Doe gather strength, and be thereto inclin'd. For when thou passest by, goe quicke and fast, Spurre on thy selfe as if thou wert in haste. Thinke that the Syrens in that house doe dwell, And make haste from her, so shall all be well: And for thy Rivall never grieved be, Esteeme him not now as thy enemy: Or salute him though thy hatred doe remaine: For'tis a signe thou art thy selfe againe. And that I may play the Physitians part, What meats to use I will prescribe by Art. For Scallions from Lybia sent to thee, Or else from Megaris both hurtfull be:

And lustfull Eringoe's see that thou doe shun, Which unto Venery make the body prone. Rather eate Rue that sharpeneth the sight, And that which hindreth Venus soft delight. If concerning Wine thou wouldst have me to shew Some Rules, my Rules at this time shall be few. Wine doth prepare the minde to Venerie, Unlesse you drinke too much, and drunken be: For too much Wine the affections stupesie, When that the heart in Wine doth buried lie, For as by blowing a fire may be kindled, So by blowing a new fire may be extinguish'd. A gentle winde doth nourish the weake flame, A violent puffe doth put it out againe. Drinke so much Wine as may thy cares expell, If thou drinkst more or lesse, thou dost not well. This worke is done, now with fresh Garlands Crown My Ship which to the intended Haven's come, And to your sacred Poet offerings give, You Lovers that from hence did helpe receive.