The declamations of Quintilian being an exercitation or praxis upon his XII books concerning the institution of an orator / translated (from the Oxford Theatre edition) into English, by a learned and ingenious hand ...

Odii Potio, OR, An Hate-procuring Potion.

DECLAMATION XIV.

The Argument.

••here was a Courtezan that gave an Hate-Potion to one of her Servants, that was but a Poor Man; so that the Youth was in Love with her no longer. Whereupon he Accuses her of down-right Witch-Craft.

For the Young Man against his Miss.

I Am sensible, my Lords, of this new Additio∣nal to my misery, that in your opinion, 〈◊〉〈◊〉 may not seem to hate this Courtezan, not yet: Nor am I ignorant, that much of the Envy of this wicked Potion is taken off, while you think me pityable, only upon the account of my former Fits of Love. Yet, I beseech you, let your Wisedoms take a survey of the whole Proof of the Mischief complain'd of, even from this, that you do not believe any such Grief, as I pro∣tend, and therefore hearken not to my Complaint: For neither do I Love her, if I can endure to ac∣cuse her; nor do I hate her, whom I had rather Love. What else can it be that I drank, but Poy∣son? Thô therefore this most wicked Woman derides me, when I accuse her, and, after the Con∣fession her most apparent Wickedness, hopes to scape by making sport at my Calamity: Yet, 'tis not this doth so much vex and torment me at this time, that I have abandoned the Love of this Naughty Woman; as that I abide the Pain of my Remedy. I implore your Justice, even your strict Justice, that it may not advantage this Harlos, that I seem rid and delivered from her, by her prevaricating pretences. Perhaps it might have been my Concern, that, I should break off so fool∣ish

a Love; but this, I am sure, was a device against me, that I should hate her, whether I wou'd or no: This then is the first thing, my Lords, that I request of the Clemency of the Court, that, because you see me so sadly habited, my Looks ruful, my Words rugged, and that I am so Fierce in my Suit; you would not therefore think, my Nature is suitable. This is the Fruit of that goodly Cure, forsooth, she has wrought up∣on me: Thus you see, what ha's alien'd my mind and disturb'd my Body Night and Day; I, that was lately so brisk, and (if you believe it) so cool a Lover, am now all in a Chafe. Pity me so far, my Lords, that this Hag of a Woman may not so impose upon you, as if she had devis'd this Trick for love of me; whereas she satisfyed her own mind therein, and complyed only with her own coy disdain. For no Body wou'd give an Hate-Potion against himself, to one that he did not hate before. I pray and beseech you therefore, most upright Men, that you wou'd take a full estimate of my Calamity. I have unhappily lost, in an instant, that good Name, that in time I might have ceas'd to Love, of my self: I am now made to abandon that perforce, which shortly I might have done voluntarily. There's a new device a∣gainst my mind and sober reason, that it seems not imputeable to my affection, that she was left. I am now a second time caught in the Harlots lock, she again makes my thoughts to turn, and me to cast a Sheeps-Eye towards her: And a Man, who would have desisted from so inconvenient an Amour, either by the Glut thereof, or by his Age, or by the Meaness of his Fortune, she hath bound up to

a perpetual restlessness, by bending the Twig 〈◊〉〈◊〉 much to the contrary side. No Disease so incur••∣ble as this, to hate perforce.

But, O my Heart, hasten, hasten, I say, to th•• wailing of my Grief, that sits so hard upon me but this late indignity hath taken thee off fro•• the sense of thy former Miseries. My Groans an•• my Complaints are to be fetch'd deeper. When 〈◊〉〈◊〉 was my Mistresses fault, that I now hate, where was in Love before; Who, think you, inveigh me to fall in Love with her first, being so p•••• a Man, as I am? For my part, my Lords, I w•••••• never one of those, to whom Fortune gave a gr•••••• Estate, and abundance of Wealth; so that, by rea∣son of their Opulency, they might take their 〈◊〉〈◊〉 of wanton Love. Yet I had enough to keep Li•••• and Soul together; I had a Modicum, enough 〈◊〉〈◊〉 have afforded me Lawful Pleasure in my mean Co••∣dition: And therefore I was always content wi•••• One and the Same Miss, which is a certain sig•••• of good Husbandry, even in a Mans Pleasure. B•••• this serious and demure Dame,* 1.1 forsooth, who mu•••• will have no more of my Love, Oh, how much of it did she call for, when time was! With what Art, with what Craft did she first set upon my simplicity, and when she had catcht me, she held me fast, till I, like a credulous Cully, thô it were long first, threw all my little Fortune into he•• Lap? And now, 'tis to no purpose, that she de∣sires to seem to pity that Condition, which she hersel•• hath brought me to: Hear, I pray, in a few words, the Wickedness of this Pernicious Woman? She makes me poor, and then she can't abide me. Whether or no, my Lords, she lik'd to try an Ex∣periment,

which common Strumpets craftily devise 〈◊〉〈◊〉 Debauch and Tyrannize over the minds of Men, 〈◊〉〈◊〉 she wou'd try on me, how much one can Love, ••nd how far he can Hate? Or, being a Woman ••ostitute to all Customers, she aim'd at vainglory 〈◊〉〈◊〉 despising and disdaining of me; and thus sought 〈◊〉〈◊〉 get a Name of being such a Mistress, as was ••urted only by Men of Fashion. That which I ••nderwent afore, was not any Natural affection 〈◊〉〈◊〉 ours, that I waited at Ladies doors, that (if ••ou believe her) I made over my poor Estate to 〈◊〉〈◊〉 spent at the Becks of Harlots; my paleness, and ••••eform'd meagerness are owing to the same Potion, ••hich at present makes me chafe, fret and rage. ••o Miss understands no other device but this, to ••ake one not to be in Love with her. This then, 〈◊〉〈◊〉 Lords, is the Truth and can't be deny'd, she ••ixt me a Poyson stronger than Nature and be∣••aving me of all my wits, which by its intempe∣••••te heat, and grievous working, was able to allay 〈◊〉〈◊〉 pain thô my mind was bent against it; she ••••per'd it with Conjurations, and horrible Charms, 〈◊〉〈◊〉 gave it me with a gentle look, and a soothing ••omplement, when my Stomach was scorch'd and ••••am'd before; so she drove me to Fury, she be∣•••••• me with Cruel pain, and made a great change 〈◊〉〈◊〉 me for th•• worse, whom she had more need have treated with Cordials and relieving Reme∣••••••s. Judg you, my Lords, whether she ha's ••ade me give over my Love, I am sure, she ••••s brought me to that pass, that I had rather ••••ve her, as before. Do you think, I am got ••ar off, and am come away the Merrier after ••is Jobb? Alas, Alas! I have need now, if ever,

to be Cur'd. 'Tis some comfort to a Man in di∣stress, as long as he is in Love: Lighter is that Ca∣lamity, where some kind of Delight smiles upon a Man in his Pleasure. But now I, unhappy Wretch, 〈◊〉〈◊〉 am tormented and torn in pieces, now I can't hold nor govern my self; 'Tis a Crueller thing to b•• made to hate a Miss, than it was to Love her.

I accuse her of plain Poyson. Setting aside, my Lords, at present, what I have to say concerning her Poysonous Dose, does she not seem to mak•• good the Charge, that in the very State I am in, 〈◊〉〈◊〉 cannot be believed? My Lords, the Life of a Co••∣tezan is nothing but Witch-craft. She does no•• think, that Lying and Glozing is enough; and when she imploys all her care to besot us, yet 〈◊〉〈◊〉 does not think it obligation enough to afford th•• use of her Body. Nay, all her study day an•• night is about this, how she may make lustf•••• satisfactions to pass into constant affection; and 〈◊〉〈◊〉 what means Fleeting and Vagrant desires may b•• fix'd to One; she labours, that the wicked 〈◊〉〈◊〉 may not be beneficial to her Paramour, in ord•••• to a possible Repentance; and that Shame an•• Modesty may not keep him off, nor the very Gl•••• of Pleasure make him take his leave. Pray to me, do you think, that any of them are ign••∣rant, by what Glances they are smi••••••n, and wh•••• things do first Debauch, and then undo, Me•••• minds, inflam'd with unfitting desires; seeing th•• she knows, by what artifices the closest Kiss, a•••• the strictest Embraces may be broken off; a•••• what, in a moment, can turn Pleasure to Pain, a•••• former Joy and Delight into Melancholy. 'Tis 〈◊〉〈◊〉 finite to tell, how by this Potion we may con••••

the knowledge of those that are worse. No Man ••ows so great a Remedy.

This Impudent Woman, my Lords, seeks to alle∣••••ate her Offence, by disguising her Drench under ••••e Name of a Potion, forsooth; and she denies it ••as Poyson, because it did not Kill. Is it well, ••y Lords, that the Guilty should escape, because ••••eir Act misses some of the Effects, which possi∣•••••• it might have produced? What's the difference, 〈◊〉〈◊〉 pray, between prejudicing ones Mind, or ones ••••dy. 'Tis the same Villany to administer any ••••••tion whatever, if it be against Law. 'Tis Poy∣••••••, whatever, is given in that Case. This your ••••ccuse hitherto is from your Sex and Estate; but ••••at you may be acquainted with such things 〈◊〉〈◊〉 your own Interest, and may beget a desire ••hether Men will or no, you have devised, how ••••u may break off Conjugal Love in the heart of Married Person, and perhaps too, how the ••••••rts of Young single Persons may be alien'd ••••om the Love of other Ladies. Never any Bawd ••••d an Hate-Potion by her, only that she might feat herself, thereby. If any Body ask me, my ••••rds, if he compare the Witch-craft that I com∣••••in of, I'le say, he ought to have hated that ••••••tion less, that might have Kill'd him. For as ••••ongst the deadliest Poysons, those are the kind∣••••••, that fly out all of a sudden, and don't keep 〈◊〉〈◊〉 Man long in pain, lingring betwixt Life and ••••ath: So that Poyson is more Cruel, that's so or∣••••red, as to spare the Body and affect only the ••••ind. How say you? Is there no harm in Poy∣••••••, but in that which Kills out-right? Pray, then, ••hat shall we call that, which bereaves us of our

Eyes only? Or that, which makes one portio•• Limb of the Body to pine away? Do'st thou ••••∣ny thy self to be a Witch, that by One Potion ca•••• do as much harm, as Wrath and Grief can do 〈◊〉〈◊〉 shall Love, forsooth, that you give leave to, 〈◊〉〈◊〉 at your bidding, he shall abominably hate. 〈◊〉〈◊〉 desires must take their Rise, Ends and Mu•••• from you. Let Love and Hatred be never much Natural Affections, yet 'tis wicked W•••• craft, when they are under Command. Besi•••• that which is given to a Man against his 〈◊〉〈◊〉 can it have any other than the Force of an In••••∣ment? I see some reason, why Physick allow•• expel the Diseases of the Body and Limbs by 〈◊〉〈◊〉 or such an Infusion: And whatever may hap•••• from without, may be cured by a Potion, 〈◊〉〈◊〉 out intrenching on the Soul and Sprit. But 〈◊〉〈◊〉 Affection can be driven out of its Seat in Soul by any Poyson, but by the disturbance of our Vitals? And seeing our Soul confirm such Faculties, if you attempt to deprive us any one of them, that part of the Body, wh•••• is first stopt from its exercise, and the Fa•••••• destroyed that was aim'd at, the rest also 〈◊〉〈◊〉 destroy'd by so near a Contagion. Some Medi•••• perhaps may be called by another Name, th•• that of Poyson: But to administer any thing 〈◊〉〈◊〉 is forbid by Law, can be no less than Wit•••• Poysoning. What Monstrous ways hast thou 〈◊〉〈◊〉 out to Plague Man by? It had been less Wi••••∣edness, to make a Man Love, perforce. 〈◊〉〈◊〉 have devised such a Drench, as is able to set Mankind together by the Ears, hateful, and ••••∣ting one another. You can tell, how to ma••••

Parents hate their Children, and how nearness of Kindred, Brother-hood and Friendship, may dash themselves one against another. No Body takes an Hate-procuring Potion, unless against a Man, whom he ought not to hate.

Here this wicked Woman endeavours to shew, that she has done me a Courtesie by her Villa∣••y. You were in Love with one, says she, that was a filthy Whore. Let me forbear, my Lords, a while my Apology for this Passion of mine. Good God! What an Abuse is offer'd to a Whore,* 1.2 when she Complains of a Mans extraordinary Affection to her? Will you, Hussy, take upon you, with the Gravity of a Censor, to examin the measure of ones Love to you? Will you allow your∣self to reckon, how oft a Man may go to the Stews? Will you, that can't exclude the lame, nor the dirty Fellow, that art exposed to the Drunkard, prostitute to the Wanton, and, which ••s the extremest baseness, a Common Hackney to Peasants every Night, will you, I say, take up∣••on you to rectifie the Manners of a Young Man? You should take it better, that a Miss should be made much of. You were my Customer, says ••he, but a shabby one. I desire, my Lords, to ••lead a little upon this Head, as if my own Friends and Kindred took upon them to re∣••rove me. I don't watch my opportunity to ••efile the Marriage-Bed; nor do I practise any ••nnatural Lust, or Embraces forbidden by Law: I ••elieve, Whores were invented at first, that poor Men might affect such Pusses, as They. Such kind of Cattle can't be Lov'd with any ardency of Affection; Those Affections are most ardent, which

are drawn forth towards the things, that are forbidden by Law. Love never passes into a kind of Fury, till it meet with difficulties in the way. Our Affection is short-liv'd in lawful Plea∣sures, and soon approaches to nauseousness. It doth not encrease nor cherish the Flame of Concupiscence, where 'tis lawful to enjoy. And whatever we find in our Fancy about permitted objects, it comes not from our Passion, but our Reason. This ve∣ry thing I object to you, Good Woman, that you have made me a Town-talk, as well as yourself. No body so fit to love a Whore, as he that a Whore can't abide: She gave a Counter-Philt•••• to a Poor Man; what de' think she gave to the Rich, then? If a Good Estate should drop down from Heaven into my Lap, I question not in the least, but she would call me back to her Af∣fection, with another Drench; and this (now) demure and moral Whore would be heartily glad to keep me, with all her former surfeit. A Whore can't Love a poor Customer, if it be but for her own sake.

But, I gave it, says she, to him, while he was in Love. If that be a Cure, she shou'd ha' let me ha' known on't. 'Tis the first step to a Mans Health to take Physick willingly, and by his own consent. Why did she not rather give it me, before I lov'd? How much better, with more fore∣cast, and more to the Patients case, had it been to have tamper'd with a Young Mans Affection, whilst it was yet but bending towards, and so to quench the Flame in the first Sparks? But you, forsooth, must give me a Potion at that time when it would put me into Two Fits at once

You put me to another Extremity; and I enter∣tain Hate, because I am not able to abide Love. I han't don, but I begin another way: My Love is not corrected, but translated elsewhere. Those are true Remedies, which, when they have Cured our Diseases and Rooted out their Causes, we hear no more of 'm; and we reckon only those Drugs harmless, which, having spent their specifick Vir∣tue in doing us good, have no more to say. But you gave me a What-shall-I-call 'm, that puts me (as we say) besides my seven senses perpetu∣ally. He'le never ha' don, that Hates without a just Cause. Thô I may think of Marrying, yet I shall Hate Thee: Thô my Country send me on a Foreign Employ, yet my words and my thoughts will still have a fling at thee. What signifies it, after what way thou affectest my mind? Or, in what manner I am disabled to quit and leave Thee? You have made me your E∣nemy, wherever you are; so that I am like e∣nough, to offer violence to you, wherever I meet you; and perhaps I may be willing, you should Drink a Drench of my Brewing. He that can't leave off to hate a Courtezan, is her Servant still.

But, unhappy Woman, you take pity of me, you say. What? with so harsh a ••••re? You should rather have dealt with me by reason, we should have said our Heads together, to have spoken out the Truth softly and gently. Then there would have been no need to shut the door upon me, or to drive me out by Force. For Force doth always axasperate, and when we find opposition in Love, we are the more Inflam'd. In the mean time, you may urge me, with the Liberty that I shall

enjoy, with time spent, with the glut I have re∣ceiv'd, and perhaps another Customer may twit you with my Condition. But when I have been so kind to you in secret, and so full of Love-Caresses, you should not mention to 'm my Po∣verty, as if you felt it, but only in a way of Pity: Thô, the Truth is, what need was there of Se∣cresie in the Case? You should ha' suffered me to be Cured, that I may give over, if, as you say, you pity and love one that is under a Force. No Cure for a Lover, but to be Lov'd again. Yet, if you think my Cure is so necessary, how many Remedies are there for Foolish Love, on this side Poyson? You might ha' sent me packing, you might ha' shut me out of doors; you might have done that by your disdaining of me, that my Poverty could never make me do. Make me rather to amend myself, to give over for Shame, and to despair at last: He only is Cur'd of the Disease of Love, that desists therefrom, upon his own Mo∣tives. Seeing then I might deservedly have taken it amiss, if any Body should but have excluded me from your Love, have I not far greater reason to complain, when I am made, not the Man I was, even an unhappy Fellow, under a contrary Passion. The Names and Appellations of things do deceive and abuse us; and he, who hates is pityable, be∣cause he cannot Love. All excess is alike grievous to the Mind; and there is no difference, no not between Health and Sickness itself, if both be alike intolerable. 'Tis in vain for a Man to sooth me up with a Medicine, which puts me to pain and tor∣ment. To give over Love, and to be Plagued with Hate, are Two different things. Do you think,

that I have now only parted from the Love of a Slut? No, I have lost the best Affection, that be∣longs to Man; Wretch that I am, that Affection is taken from me, whence all the Joy and Cheer∣fulness of my Life ariseth. That LOVE, by which the Sacred Principles of Nature, and the Elements of the whole Universe come together; that LOVE, which now fixes and keeps fast all their discords, and amidst their Quarrels and Antipathies unites them into one Bulk by a perpetual League; that LOVE, I say, is cashier'd and driven out of my Breast. So that now, unhappy Man that I am, I have not Passion enough to think of Marrying, to Love a Child, to desire any Mans Friendship, or to expect any mutual Converse. Whoever he be, that has drank an Hateful Potion, may perhaps hate One, but can Love no Body. O Heavens! What is this that I ha' drunk? What strange Poyson have I gulp'd down? It could not be One single Poyson, sure: No, Poor Man, I drank down, whatever execrable Recipes the Spleen of all Mortals could prescribe; the wildness of all Beasts, and the rage of all Stinging Serpents, lay at the bottom of the Cup. This Hate-drench, what is it else, but the dayly Plague of the mind, a sadness perpetual, that ••urns a Man over from all his Joys to the very Purlews of Grief? For 'tis utterly impossible, that ••o damn'd a Poyson should once be let down into ••ur Stomachs, and then operate only upon one ••aculty; as if such a Potion could be stinted and ••••unded, how far to work. See, Good Woman, I ••m now in perfect Hatred already, what further mischief, d'e think, your Potion will do, in my ••owels? By little and little it must needs diffuse

itself my whole Soul over, and thô the First Dose overthrew only that Affection to which it tended, yet in a short time it will master all my other Passions, and blend them into that One of Hatred. A Draught, that can shew so much Power at first in my Mind, as to alter my Passion, and to make me hate; the Issue of all, I'le warrant you, will be plain Poyson.

My Lords, I would fain answer those that say, my Condition was miserable before, upon the ac∣count of my Love: But in what grievouser pickle am I, and how more cruelly tormented, now I am Freed, as they tell me? I was more temperate, when I was in Love and more compos'd; perhaps there might be paleness in my Face, but it was innocent and harmless, 'twas a Melancholy to be ••∣veted. Men were pleas'd to entertain discourse with me, and I was thought worthy enough to be hear•• speak; but now all Men fly from me, abomina••e and hate me. Time was, when I abstain'd from going to the Stews, for very Shame; if I met oc∣casionally with a Friend, that wou'd turn me aside now all the Town gazes at me: I rave, I stop 〈◊〉〈◊〉 a sudden, I give foul Language to every Body. 〈◊〉〈◊〉 more than miserable Condition! I am scoffed, de••••∣ded and p••in••ed at, wherever I go, Not a Ma•• in the Town but knows, I drank the Hate-Potu•••• Thus, Poor Man, I endure the insultings of th•• Brothelry, the taunts and reproaches of my Corr••∣vals; nor can they sufficiently express, how grea•• my Torments are. I hate the Person, yet I neve•• seem'd to be more deeply in Love. I suppose, 〈◊〉〈◊〉 Lords, you observe, that I am a Man, that p••••∣sent before you the Torments of his Soul and ••••••∣lect

only, and who complain, that I am yet alive. But, O unhappy Potion, whatsoever thou art by which I dye by Inches, my Passio•• still troubles me, and in a short time, no question, I shall be taken off. The Potion grows stronger and stronger every day. What kind of Torment, think you, is it, and what pain, when the mind is prohibited to be dire∣cted by the Eye? When the Soul is divorced from the sense of Seeing? That which do's me no good, what can it do, but dispatch me? Ah! How mi∣serable a Man am I! If that Poyson do not kill me out-right, then I must spin out a dolorous Life, yet longer: Why therefore do I set before my Eyes, the Shifts and Changes of my Mind? If this Har∣lots Presumption can do every thing, for ought I know, she may give me another Drench, to make me an Inamorato a second time.

Notes

• * 1.1

  Iron.
• * 1.2

  Iron.