The art of making love, or, Rules for the conduct of ladies and gallants in their amours

CHAP. II. The means to submit Love to Reason.

IF we would subject Love to Reason, we must surprize and arrest it whilst it is still in our eyes, to the end that we may consult our Reason before it go too far; and the better to know it, and to stay it in its passage, we must know how it makes its first entrance, and what it is we feel when it makes its nearer ac∣cesses to the Heart; of which it will quickly become Master, if we be not as subtile as it, and prevent its progress.

When we observe something rare, which we cannot express in a beautiful person, we at pre∣sent regard it with attetion,

onely to content our curiosity. This is the first stage that Love makes, thence it glides into our Eyes with the charming Idaea. At the first view the Object ap∣pears onely agreeable, and onely gives a simple desire to know what it is: when we have learn'd this, our Curiosity augments, and desiring to learn more, we care∣fully seek the means to speak to her, that we may see whether her Spirit and Conversation answers to her Beauty. Having tried her Wit, and gained some know∣ledge of her humour, we begin to have a more than ordinary complaisance for her: we feel a secret pleasure when we see and speak to her; which we do so oft, that it becomes so much a custome, that we cannot quit her company without regret: When we part with her, we are pensive, and the Soul without

perceiving any thing flatters it self by a thousand amusing and delightful thoughts. When we have dallied a few days with these thoughts, we begin to be sensible of something without a name, which begins to trouble our repose: our sleeps, which begin to be unquiet, represent a thousand agreable Images, which beget many wishes even in our Dreams. 'Tis then we may con∣clude that our Hearts are no longer our own, but are become Captives whilst we thought them free.

See how Love glides into the Heart through the Eyes, and in what manner it acts to render it self master, when it findes a per∣son who makes little resistance, and who does not dispute its Triumphant Progress, by oppo∣sing all the forces of Reason to it. When we perceive our selves

moved by that first curiosity which fastens our Eyes upon a beautiful Object, let our first thoughts be to distrust our selves, and to hold for an undoubted principle, that there is nothing more cunning or insinuating than that fair Sex; and that there is no kinde of Stratagem which they make not use of to make themselves beloved, because in that they place their greatest glory.

With this diffidence we must examine with care all the draughts of that beauty which begins to charm us; and how extraordi∣nary soever they are, let us not give an entire credit to our Eyes, but imagine that our Senses may be deceivers; and to fortifie our selves in these thoughts, hold for a principle as certain, that there are no Beau∣ties absolutely perfect, or at least

the number is very small.

Let us not therefore presently believe that what we see hath not so much beauty as she ap∣pears to have; let us always fan∣cy that she may have some con∣cealed deformity, which will be too late for us to discover when once our Hearts are no longer in our own possession; for when the Soul is possessed with that flagrant Passion, the sick Fancy does so unite the scattered per∣fections, that no imperfections can be visible to an entangled Inamarato.

We must not therefore suffer our selves to be dazled by these surprizing interviews, but pre∣serve our selves free for some time; and not believe a Beauty all perfect, till we have viewed and examined all things at our leisure.

Yet it is not enough that a

Woman be fair onely to merit our Love; for there is nothing so frail and changeable as Beauty, nor nothing so fading as its Charms: It is also necessary that the Beauty of the Minde and of the Soul accompany it, if we de∣sire our Loves should be solid, and endure as long as our Lives.

When we finde a Beauty in all things perfect, in which the Sun it self cannot discover the least blemish; let us reflect that there is nothing so subject to a misera∣ble change as her Beauty: for nothing is so fading, or hath so many Enemies as its Charms. The Sun is its jealous Enemy, and the Fire destroys it: All things in Nature seem to conspire the ru∣ine of the fairest things. This may teach us to make but small account of the Beauty of the Body, if it be not accompanied by that of the Minde. Nature

wills, that Roses should endure but for a moment, and Thorns for ever. Hence it is that we see every day a thousand Lovers who mock at those proud Ladies who have onely the beauty of the body for their Portion; for when their Pride and Vanity swell so high, that they believe all men ought of duty to die for 'em, this unjust Rigour causes those poor Idolaters to return to Rea∣son; and then perceiving how little incense these fair Inhu∣manes deserve, there is not one who in his turn will not say in scorn,

1.

Imperious Beauty, take what care you will, Be scornful, and disdainful still; Your Beauty gone, I shall be free From this inglorious Slaverie.

2.

One scorching Feaver will deface Each beauteous Linament and Grace; And in that heat which sets you all on fire, My ardent flames will soon expire.

3.

When once the Roses from your Cheeks de∣part, And Lustre from your Eyes, I'll pluck the Thorns out of my Heart, And your pass'd Charms despise.

4.

In time, that old Physitian Age My Torments will asswage, Who every day will play the Thief, And of your Beauty you bereave, Snatching you from the number of the Fair, And me at once from those who wretched are.

See how these proud ones are treated whilst their Beauty flou∣rishes; but they are more outra∣geously dealt with when Diseases

or Wrinkles claps on a frightful and unmovable Vizard on their Faces, 'tis then the Gallants whom they scornfully used will revenge themselves by a thousand Scoffs, Reproaches, and Lampoons.

Thus Beauty changes, and with it all its fond Idolaters; we must not therefore suffer our selves to be captivated, though we finde a Beauty in perfection; but let us examine well whether the beauty of the Soul answer to that of her Body; for 'tis that alone which can entertain Love longest, and will render us the most happy. In short, there is nothing more fading than those Amorous sweets which make the Paradise of Lovers, if they are not refin'd and spiritual; for if they be not, they are more proper for Beasts than reasonable Crea∣tures.

We ought not therefore,

though we finde a person infi∣nitely fair and charming, to suf∣fer our selves to be ensnared by her, if she be not as infinitely Witty: for Wit makes all the sweets of a reasonable life, and without it Love cannot render us happy, or at least for any long time; for there is nothing can entertain us long but the Charms of the Minde, which are able to make it endure eternally.

Yet neither is it enough that we finde as much Wit as Beauty in her we begin to love; we must also learn whether the Soul have as fair qualities as the Spirit and the Bo∣dy: for if an excellent and unstai∣ned Soul, replenished with good∣ness, doth not accompany those Charms, they serve onely to blinde us, and to lead us to Pre∣cipices, where our ruine is inevi∣table. In short, there is nothing which is not fatal in a beautiful

Woman, if she be vitious; and by consequence, nothing which we ought more to detest: We must therefore make a swift re∣treat upon the first appearances, lest we be caught, and want the power to disengage our selves from the inchantments of that fatal Beauty. Of this, that fa∣mous Greek presents us an exam∣ple: And though there are few Ladies which are so dangerous as she, yet there are few who are not Proud, Cruel, Ungrateful, Inconstant, Weak, Vain, and Humorous, if they want Vertue, which onely regulates the Pas∣sions, and makes Reason always govern in our Souls.

These defects are not so easily discerned in a Woman as we be∣lieve: for all those fair ones have a million of Inventions and Artifices to conceal them; the principle of which arts is to

blinde us, by exposing their fair∣est qualities, and hiding with care their imperfections. Let us be vigilant in our search, lest we be deluded: for if we be once perswaded by this subtile Art, Love is o longer in the Eyes, it lies already in the Heart, where it plays the Tyrant, and by a force so uncontroulable, that we have no longer power to make any resistance.

A second craft of these fair Deceivers is, that when they see that we do not discover the Hook which they conceal under their false Charms, and that we run after it, they play the cun∣ning Anglers, feign to draw it away, to make us more greedy of the fatal Bait: for after they have given us the first stroke, they know how to augment our de∣sires by delays, little Coldnesses, short Divorces, Amorous Com∣plants,

secret Reproaches, and counterfeit Angers.

There are some who exceed these in craft; they have the art to mingle so well sweetness with severity, that a poor Lover spends all his time in the vain pursuit of a Bliss, which he onely tastes in imagination, without ever be∣ing weary of his fruitless travel. Sometimes they give him ardent desires mixt with a few sparks of hope; then straight with one haughty look inspire a fear so respectuous, that they see their Lo∣vers at once in Ice and Fire; and because they know that Love dies after it is enjoyed, they are so malitiously ingenious, that by little favours, whereof on such occasions they are not thrifty, they nourish the languishing di∣stemper, and never ease or satis∣fie it.

But amongst the number of

these beautiful Decoyers of Hearts, none make so many Con∣quests as those who dissemble a false Devotion, and a counterfeit Vertue: This makes every day new Slaves, and oftentimes the most brave and Illustrious are Captivated by these fair dissem∣blers; for under that deceitful Mask, they seduce even the most reasonable persons.

As for those who dissemble by false appearances of Vertue, they have an universal art, able to se∣duce all mankind. No Cameleon takes so many different forms, nor Protheus who assumes so many dif∣ferent shapes, to allure an innocent heart, and a man of an easie belief as these dissemblers. The very sha∣dow of a Vice offends her scrupu∣lous modesty; she dissembles an extream coldnessfor all her Ser∣vants; and feigning to neglect the making Conquests, she flies

all places and entertainments of Love: and to render our desires more vigorous and curious, she exposes her self as little as she can to view. She counterfeits always a modest air, and a sober and pru∣dent deportment, and seems to be ignorant in the use of her Charms: When an intoxicated Lover makes his address to her, and is about making a declara∣tion of love to her, she imposes silence on him, and for a while she will by no means give any audience to him: This increa¦ses his respect, and preserves the dignity of the Throne of Love. She feigns to be as ignorant of his Language, as if he came from a forrain Nation; and under an innocent face, this crafty Mistriss shews her art by her seeming stupidity: and in short, she assumes the air and fashions of a meer Novice, and counterfeits

ignorance of an art which is all her study.

Behold part of the Artifices of these false and pretending Vertues; they conceal all their Defects, by which, as I have said, they endanger the wisest per∣sons: but upon the least appear∣ance, or the least conjecture that you have of their disguisements, fly them as much as you would do a Bed of Flowers full of Ser∣pents: And the better to succeed in so wholesome a designe, consi∣der of the danger that lies con∣cealed under so much Artifice; and to fortifie you in this glori∣ous Resolution, be always per∣swaded that these fair counter∣feits will at least but give you a false pleasure; for to speak with the Proverb, you will finde upon the credit of a long Experience, Que-le-jeu ne vaut pas la Chandel: Your Game is not worth your Candle.

There is not one Evil which these capricious Creatures make us not endure; and the ills they make us suffer are such real ones, and so infinite in number, that there is scarce one of their Ser∣vants who is not incessantly upon Racks and Tortures: for besides all their other precious Qualities, they are so insolent and humor∣some, that they will not believe they are beloved, if the miserable infatuated Wretches do not al∣ways look pale and languishing, and three or four times a day at∣tempt to Hang or Drown them∣selves, or at least perpetually tear their poor Hearts with Hey-Ho's, and if the very shadow of a suspition doth not give them a thousand Alarms: they will al∣ways needs have 'um distrustful and jealous without cause, sigh without ceasing, and never be content with them or with them∣selves.

They carry their extra∣vagancy yet farther; they never believe themselves fair, except they wash themselves in the Tears of these unhappy men; and think they offend their false Ver∣tue, if they are not cruel every moment. If you demand these miserable Loves how they pass their daies, there is not one who will not say, in an Accent that will make you pitty him,

1.

Nor Night or Day brings a relief, Or intermission to my grief. Equally both are bateful grown; No ease I finde To my distracted minde, But careless stalk in solitude alone; No joyes I taste, but Savage am become, And in a Wilderness of doubts I room, Tortured by fears which give me no re∣pose, Nor will permit my weary eyes to close.

2.

Base and inglorious is that Passion sure, Which makes me tamely thus endure A thousand base indignities, Whilst I must think my self oblig'd By her disdain, And humbly thank her for the pain Which she creates who doth my flame de∣spise.

But that which is more funest than all this miserable life, is, that since Love transforms us as often∣times into the person beloved; so he who is caught in the Toyls of a person capricious and un∣faithful, will become like her un∣faithful and humoursome; and so both the Lover and his Mistriss do nothing all their lives but tor∣ment one another, and all their comfort is in doing injurys to each other, and in making reciprocal reproaches: This makes them the sport and contempt of all that

know them; for in breaking publickly their Chains, they complain to all the World of the indignities they have endured, and curse the fatal day in which with so little Glory they submit∣ted to such feeble Charms, and to such a dishonourable Vassal∣lage.

It is thus, that those who a∣bandon themselves to Love with∣out consulting Reason, finde themselves constrained to confess their blindness and errour with shame to all the World; and that they are fallen from those hopes which they had too lightly and vainly conceived; and that they are weary with their long-suffer∣ing: and there is nothing more shameful than for a man to be reduced to publish himself that he hath trifled away his time in the pursuit of a Woman without merit, and at last to be obliged

to to renounce the faith he has once given with a thousand Oaths ne∣ver to infringe.

For to what shameful extremi∣ty must he be reduced, who to become free, must become guilty of a base crime? since there is none more great than the breach of that faith which we have so so∣lemnly given.

It is therefore, as I have said, not onely necessary to know whether they have Wit, but also to be assured that the beauty of the Soul is replenished with good∣ness equal to that of the Body; and if you finde the least defect in that, flie their presence as you would a Monster, and mock at that Beauty which is not atten∣ded by Goodness and Vertue: and the more surprizing and charming these Syrens are, stand more upon your guard, and suf∣fer not your selves to be van∣quished

by those by whom it is a shame to be conquered.

Behold the dangerous conse∣quences of an imprudent Love, to oblige all those who have Rea∣son, to make use of it against its allurements: be not therefore wanting to consult and to fol∣low the Precepts I have given; and let it be done quickly, before Love has made its progress from the Eyes into the Heart; and let it not pass so far, without the strictest scrutiny into the nature and quality of it: for when it is there, how well soever it be dis∣guised, it will be in vain to call Reason to your succour: and if you should attempt to turn out that turbulent Stranger, you will finde it as much in vain and ri∣diculous, as if a Moor should mask his Face to avoid the raies of the Sun, which can do no in∣jury to his sooty complexion.

Follow then the Precepts which I have given: as soon as you are smitten by an extraordi∣nary Beauty; examine at leisure whether she has not some concea∣led Deformity. If you finde her perfect in Body and Minde after you have considered her a long time, and be well assured that they are not appearances; then you may believe that Reason per∣mits you to love, and will take the Conduct of it; then you may submit your self without a∣cting any thing against your Glo∣ry, and may expect nothing but Happiness from it; for that Love which is guided by Reason, is never followed by Sorrows or Regrets: Secrecy, Constancy, and Discretion, will attend your happy Flames; and though it be always vehement, yet it will al∣ways act regularly, and without extravagance. Thus conserving

your mutual Flames always in a just heat, you will be always hap∣py, and always amorous, and you will never have reason to blush at so fair and laudable a Passion.

And though such a Lover should not be successful in the Conquest of the Heart he does besiege, yet such a Vertuous La∣dy is always just and reasonable, and a Lover cannot be dis-satis∣fied: for behold what her Con∣duct is; If she grant nothing, she permits a Lover to hope all things: all the Ills she causes may be well endured, since she pities them: her very Refusals displea∣ses him not: she is neither easie, nor too severe: she nourishes both his Hope and Desire, and knows the Secret to make her self Mistriss of Souls: she kin∣dles the Fire, and feeds the Flame, but never suffers either the Fa∣vours which she bestows, nor the

Ills she makes him endure, to go to excess.

Thus a Reasonable Lover is in perpetual repose; and in lieu of Complaints and, Reproaches, which other Lovers do constant∣ly load their Mistrisses with, he on the contrary has nothing to return her but Thanks and Prai∣ses.

It is thus that Lovers who go∣vern themselves by Reason, taste a thousand Sweets in the way to a happy Island, where all their Desires are crowned.

Love is an Island where all Pleasures gnow, And Streams of Joy perpetually do flow: Princes and Peasants equally do bend Their Courses bither, where their Travels end. Eternal Spring doth crown the verdant Fields With Flowers, and every day new Plea∣sures yields.

Here no rude Storms the Blossoms-do-de∣stroy, No Windes but Sighs, no Showers but Tears of Joy. The Skie in brightest Azure doth appear, And not one Cloud is seen through all the year. The amorous Birds flutter from tree to tree, And Love's the Subject of their Harmony. The Brooks with pleasing murmurs do delude Our Thoughts, and render sweet our so∣litude. Each Grot, each Bower, and every Mirtle Grove In this fair Isle, is consecrate to Love. A happy Lover here doth feel no pain; He meets no rigour nor unjust disdain. Celia is always kind, and always fair, And all her Sweets doth with Amyntas share. All things to his content do here con∣spire, No cross event doth frustrate his desire: But when all Storms are overblown and, past, A thousand unknown Sweets he drinks at last.

See the beauty of this Char∣ming Island where all reasonable Lovers are Crowned, where they taste the Pleasures which never finish but with their lives! And it is in this place that they see themselves at the height of their Glory & Felicity; and they know so certainly that this Glory and Felicity will endure eternally, by the knowledge that they mutu∣ally have of their Vertues, that they defie without fear both Heaven and Earth ever to trou∣ble it: also all their Words serve onely to express that common joy, and that common assu∣rance.

It is not without reason that such Lovers boast of the eternal duration of their Love: for that Beauty of which they are reci∣procally amorous, that is to say the beauty of the Soul and of the Minde, whose brightness receives

a new splendor from the Body, never changes; no Malady ever renders them displeasing to each other: They are agreeable till death, and Death it self receives a lustre from their mutual Loves.

In effect, the death of these rare Beauties hath nothing hi∣deous; one may take it rather for a sweet Sleep, than for a true Death; one cannot call it Pale∣ness: what we see upon the Cheeks of these dying fair ones, it is rather such a colour as we see in a clear Night, when the Sun retires his Raies: Their eyes become even then dangerous; the Fire burns even when it is about to be extinguished; and as the Sun eclipsed ceases not to be dangerous and ill to our sight, the same ma be said of these dying Eyes, the Sparks which fall from them have both bright∣ness and heat; and I doubt not

but they will be able to kindle a Fire in a Heart into which any of them happens to fall.

By this one may judge of the power of these fair Eyes when they are in their greatest lustre and vigour, especially when Wit and Virtue contribute to their Victories. It is thus then that these Fair ones attaque us, and which oblige us at the sight of their victorious Arms to render our Hearts, if we would that our defeat be glorious, and our Chains worthy of us; and if we would arrive at that charm∣ing Island of which I have spo∣ken, in which Lovers taste in∣conceivable Pleasures, and Joys of an eternal duration.