CLAIMING A SECOND KISS BY DESERT.
HARIS, guess, and do not miss,
Since I drew a morning kiss
From your lips, and suck'd an air
Thence, as sweet as you are fair,
What my muse and I have done :
Whether we have lost or won,
If by us the odds were laid,
That the bride, allow'd a maid,
Look'd not half so fresh and fair,
With the advantage of her hair,*
And her jewels to the view
Of the assembly, as did you !
Tres quondam nudas vidit Priameius heros
Luce deas; video tres quoque luce deas:
Hoc majus, tres uno in corpore; Cælia ridens
Est Venus, incedens Juno, Minerva loquens.
This quotation (says Dr. Farmer) recalls to my memory a very extraordinary fact. A few years ago, at a great court on the continent, a countryman of ours (sir Charles Hanbury Williams) exhibited, with many other candidates, his complimental epigram on the birth-day, and carried the prize in triumph :
O Regina orbis prima et pulcherrima: ridens
Es Venus, incedens Juno, Minerva loquens.
The compliment has since passed through other hands, and was, not long ago, applied to one who had as little of Venus and Juno in her, as her panegyrist had of originality. Minerva had nothing to do with either.
4 With the advantage of her hair.] Brides, in Jonson's days, were always led to the altar, with their hair hanging down. To this he alludes in several of his masques; and H. Peacham, in describing the marriage of the princess Elizabeth with the Palsgrave, says that "the bride came into the chapell with a coronet of pearle on her head, and her haire disheveled, and hanging down over her shoulders."
Or that did you sit or walk,
You were more the eye and talk
Of the court, to-day, than all
Else that glister'd in Whitehall;
So, as those that had your sight,
Wish'd the bride were chang'd to-night,
And did think such rites were due
To no other Grace but you!
Or, if you did move to-night
In the dances, with what spite
Of your peers you were beheld,
That at every motion swell'd
So to see a lady tread,
As might all the Graces lead,
And was worthy, being so seen,
To be envied of the queen.
Or if you would yet have staid,
Whether any would upbraid
To himself his loss of time;
Or have charg'd his sight of crime,
To have left all sight for you.
Guess of these which is the true;
And, if such a verse as this,
May not claim another kiss.
ON COLOUR OF MENDING THE FORMER.
OR Love's sake, kiss me once again,
I long, and should not beg in vain.
Here's none to spy, or see;
Why do you doubt or stay
I'll taste as lightly as the bee,
That doth but touch his flower, and flies
Once more, and, faith, I will be gone,
Can he that loves ask less than one?
Nay, you may err in this,
And all your bounty wrong:
This could be call'd but half a kiss ;
What we're but once to do, we should do lòng.
I will but mend the last, and tell
Where, how, it would have relish'd well
Join lip to lip, and try:
Each suck the others breath,
And whilst our tongues perplexed lie, Let who will think us dead, or wish our death.
HARIS one day in discourse
Had of Love, and of his force,
Lightly promis'd she would tell
What a man she could love well :
And that promise set on fire
All that heard her with desire.
With the rest, I long expected
When the work would be effected;
But we find that cold delay,
And excuse spun every day,
As, until she tell her one,
We all fear, she loveth none.
Therefore, Charis, you must do't,
For I will so urge you to't,
You shall neither eat nor sleep,
No, nor forth your window peep,
With your emissary eye,5
To fetch in the forms go by,
5 With your emissary eye.] Oculis emissitiis. Plautus. WHAL.
And pronounce, which band or lace
Better fits him than his face :
Nay, I will not let you sit
'Fore your idol glass a whit,
To say over every purl
There; or to reform a curl;
Or with secretary Cis
To consult, if fucus this
Be as good, as was the last :—
All your sweet of life is past,
Make account, unless you can,
And that quickly, speak your Man.
HER MAN DESCRIBED BY HER OWN DICTAMEN.
F your trouble, Ben, to ease me,
I will tell what Man would please me.
I would have him, if I could,
Noble; or of greater blood;
Titles, I confess, do take me,
And a woman God did make me ;
French to boot, at least in fashion,
And his manners of that nation.
Young I'd have him too, and fair,
Yet a man; with crisped hair,
Cast in thousand snares and rings,
For love's fingers, and his wings:
Chestnut colour, or more slack,
Gold, upon a ground of black.
Venus and Minerva's eyes,
For he must look wanton-wise.
To say over every purl] i. e. to try. Purl, I believe, is wire whipt with cotton or silk, for puffing out fringe, lace, hair, &c. In some places it seems to mean the fringe itself: the old word is purrel.
Eyebrows bent, like Cupid's bow,
Front, an ample field of snow;
Even nose, and cheek withal,
Smooth as is the billiard-ball:
Chin as woolly as the peach;
And his lip should kissing teach,
Till he cherish'd too much beard,
And made Love or me afeard.
He should have a hand as soft
As the down, and shew it oft;
Skin as smooth as any rush,
And so thin to see a blush
Rising through it, ere it came;
All his blood should be a flame,
Quickly fired, as in beginners
In love's school, and yet no sinners.
'Twere too long to speak of all:
What we harmony do call,
In a body, should be there.
Well he should his clothes, too, wear,
Yet no tailor help to make him;
Drest, you still for man should take him,
And not think he'd eat a stake,
Or were set up in a brake."
Valiant he should be as fire,
Shewing danger more than ire.
Bounteous as the clouds to earth,
And as honest as his birth;
All his actions to be such,
As to do no thing too much :
Nor o'er praise, nor yet condemn,
Nor out-value, nor contemn;
Or were set up in a brake.] The inclosure used by blacksmiths and farriers, in which they put vicious and untractable horses, which they cannot dress or shoe without that assistance, is commonly called a smith's brake. WHAL.
But see vol. iii. p. 445.
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