Remedia amoris
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Original / primary: Perseus Eng2
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Yet, e'en humanity must needs abhor,
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That you should hate the nymph you did adore
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For he discovers a mere brutal mind,
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Whose love to enmity the way can find.
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A gentle cure is what I recommend;
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For he whose passion can in hatred end,
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As soon may to his first desire return;
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His fire does still beneath the embers burn.
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To see two lovers at outragious odds,
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Is scandal and offence to men and gods.
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Many have rail'd, and yet been reconcil'd,
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That minute they their mistresses revil'd.
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Others I've known, who parting without strife,
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Have fairly taken leave-but ta'en for life.
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A nymph but lately passing in her chair,
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Met with her lover (I by chance was there);
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He storm'd, and with reproaches fill'd the air.
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At last, " Come forth thou harlot, come," he cried
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She came; at sight of her his tongue was tied;
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The writings in his hand he flings away,
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Runs to her arms, and has but pow'r to say,
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"You've conquer'd, and no more I'll disobey."
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Let her the presents you have sent retain
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And to a less prefer the greater gain.
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Weigh the advantage by that loss you reap,
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And think the purchase of your freedom cheap.
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If to her presence you by chance are driven,
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Straight recollect the precepts I have given.
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Since with your Amazon you must engage,
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To whet your courage muster all your rage.
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Think on your rival in her chamber kept,
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While you, excluded, on her threshold slept.
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How falsely she has treated you; and then
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More falsely sworn to draw you in again.
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Study no dress when she is to be seen,
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But wear your garments careless as your mein.
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Or, if the sparkish mode your fancy seize,
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Take care it be some other nymph to please.
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What most retards your cure, I'll now reveal;
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And to your own experience dare appeal;
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Hoping to be at last belov'd, (though vain
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Those hopes) we linger, and indulge our pain.
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T' our own defects, through self-opinion, blind,
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We wonder how the fair can be unkind.
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Ne'er think that what she says or swears is true;
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She fears the gods no more than she fears you.
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Nor trust her tears, though plenteous tears distil;
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Their eyes are disciplin'd to weep at will.
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With various arts they storm a lover's mind,
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Like some bleak rock expos'd to waves and wind.
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Nourish the just resentments in your heart,
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But ne'er declare the reason why you part.
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For tax'd with crimes, she'll plead her innocence;
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And you'll too much incline to her defence.
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Contract th' indictment; spinning out the charge,
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But shows you'd have her clear herself at large.