AMORETTA, OR, Policy Defeated; In a Satirical DIALOGUE BETWEEN MOPSUS and DAMON. Jupiter in Coelis, Caesar regat omnia Terris; Regnet at omnipotens undique, solus Amor. LONDON, Printed for Daniel Brown at the Sign of the Black Swan and Bible without Temple-Bar, 1682. TO THE RIGHT HONOURABLE, THE Earl of KINGSTON. AS some young Bee, bore by high Winds far from his proper Hive, at last i'th' Hollow of some stately Oak it's little Stock of Honey lays; which, when found by some Swain, proves a grateful Present to his Countrey-Love, so I separate from the vast Swarm of Poets, whose united Buzzing secure themselves, humbly offer this first innocent Essay to your Probation; which, though not its Sweetness, may the sincere Respect I bear your Honour, make acceptable: And trust me, Sir, the Goodness of a Flower is not so much proved by their often sucking, as yours will be in Pardoning this first Attempt: And where may Services well meant, hope Forgiveness, if not in your Honourable Family, which, as it has always met, and deserved, Honour from the Supreme Fountain of Honour; so those 've had Dependence on You, have in their proper Stations found its kinder Influnce? And I beg your Lordship would permit me own myself what I really am, Your Lordship's Most Humble Servant, L. C. THE PREFACE. AFter some small Consideration, I found, that Truth, as well as the Ladies, move us most when nearest Naked; and this sort of Verse (if ever she wore Poetry) has most become her: others being either so close wrought, they totally hid; or finespun, they immodestly discovered those Secrets that were not to be seen at all times. Which possibly may be the Reason why the most ingenious Satyrs have not had that happy effect that was designed or expected. And may be those that fear her in that, may embrace her in This. And then no matter whether through the Mimickry of a Fool, or Precepts of a Wise Man, we see our Failings, so we do but leave them. I do not expect this will pass for the reason of my Choice with all; for some will certainly imagine I put this taudry Crape in her hands, merely because I had no Silk in my Shop; but since I design not Custom, that will not spoil my Trade. I do not here, City-Friends, accuse any of you of being Authors of a wicked Design against the State, but only fear Ignoramus may have so far got the upper hand of you, as to blind your Judgements, while you may be made Properties by others. Nay, and when some probably would have plainly told you, that while you neglected your Business at home, to mind State-Affairs abroad, your Wives took indirect means for Family-Duties, and made you London-Cuckolds. I have modestly withdrawn into the Country, merely to save your Reputations, and the Honour of your Families. Yet since I fear I'm still in the same danger 'twixt Whig and Bromigam, as St. Paul 'twixt Pharisees and Sadduces; I think it Wisdom to make a Party. Know then Loyalists, I am (as they term you) a Tory, the Son of a Tory, and for the hope of a restauration of their Wits, to men that are out of them, and Peace and Quietness to the Realm, am I this day called in question; and unless you with a Band of charitable Censures make a Rescue, who knows what may become of me? And I think I have partly obliged you thereunto, in leaving Mopsus and his Wife unreconciled merely for your sakes. But why do I publish my own Impertinencies, while I endeavour to suppress others? The truth of it is, if they who understand no more of Government, than I of Poetry, would but lay aside their curious Inquisitions into, and saucy Reflections upon, Matters of State; they should be sure of never being troubled more with Rhyme of mine: though I cut off my hand, and cast it from me, for so much as once offending them. And if by any means I obtain my End, I shall do as much good to the Body Politic, as he to the Ecclesiastic, who first purged the Church from the Superstitious Errors, it once laboured under. AMORETTA, OR, Policy Defeated; IN A SATIRICAL DIALOGUE BETWEEN MOPSUS & DAMON. Mopsus. SO; now you're serious, and that Pipe's laid by, Once more on you I'll Reformation try. Damon, you know I've urged, that of all Laws, Nature's, to us presses most home the Cause: But since to private Interest you prefer The public Good, you must its Ruin share. Why then so unconcerned do you pass by Of common Danger the all-moving Cry? 've heard what I e'en tremble to repeat; Nor wo'ud, but only to prevent your Fate: How at last Mart with discontented Look, Of Plots so feelingly the Stranger spoke, As us with Ruins dreadful apprehension shook. Damon. I heard, and mind not, be they true or shamm'd, Or whether th'author's shall be saved or damned. Mopsus. Nay now you're mad, since you're the first that fly, When by the Winds, or a distempered Sky, You see some gloomy Tempest drawing nigh. And when last Winter's Showers each Channel swelled, And the overflowing Waters drowned the Field, Your well-propt Hut alone securely stood Th'impetuous Rowlings o'the mighty Flood. And will you now your wont care let fall, When the vast Inundation threatens all, Because it threatens All. Damon. Yes; for'ts the way to ruin all, if they Whose 'tis to serve, their Ruler disobey; And to save all, o'er all usurp the Sway. Mopsus. Nay call't not so, if a distempered Head Dulled with Disease, or erring Notions led Forget; and th'hands with use grown skilful should Supply the Stomach with its wont Food; Without whiched'a can't subsist, and th' Body may In part, and not affect the Head decay. Each Member then its force may jointly try, To save the whole from th' growing Malady, And so preserve the Head. Damon. Hold; for what might before have passed for fear, And the Effects of self-preserving Care: Now, guilded wi'the last pretext, betrays The subtle curling of a Serpent's ways: Which, when in sweetest Flowers it lurking lies, It's pointed Venom least suspected tries. The Soul, in th' Head has always kept its Court, And there, each Sense to Council does resort: Nor can you hurt the Body any where, But Sympathy affects its Agent there. Now, if the major part enjoin a Fast, And Members most depending on the Taste, Under pretence decaying strength t'increase Should apply food (the Appetite to please,) Would minish that, and heighten the Disease. New ways of Consequence, because untrode, Misguide more travelers than the beaten Rode. Last storm, when you with yours sought safer ground I kept my Flocks within their proper bound, And they were saved, and yours dispersed, or drowned. And since the mighty Pan did ne'er ordain A King, but aptly fitted him for Reign: With Heaven's peculiar Gifts they're always blest, And ours particularly 'bove the rest. Why then distrusting him or heaven, should I, Search fates decree with a too curious eye; Forsake my flock, since the just Pan will keep As well the quiet shepherds as the sheep. Safely through life's tempestuous Sea we steer Who bear our own, but make ourselves no care, And motions rest when in its proper Sphere. As Story tells, before his time, Sol's Heir, Mounting but once his Father's burning Chair Unfit for Rule; though while a Swain, none had So near resemblance with a rural God: Perished himself, and with misguided flame, Endangered Heaven's Universal Frame. Yet lest you think 'tis dull Stupidity Makes me affect this safe Obscurity. Know I'm more than You, Who'd cautious only of Known Plots, I, New; Which I'll disclose, to show how far 've erred. That very Stranger you so lately heard, Espouse our Cause with melting Words, and Eyes, That moved us less for our own Fate than his; Tries each Malicious Satyrs subtlest Arts To blind our judgements, and betray our hearts. No Worms more secretly decay the Rose, Or in our Flocks the hid Contagion grows; Then they, 'mongst us scatter Sedition's Seeds; Strive to lay fallow, or o'errun with Weeds. (Ere since deservedly they lost,) these flowery meeds. Nor wants he skill to know which best will move case Us to his ends, Ambition, Fear, or Love. With which, when's wrought dislike t' our present Moulds us to any new ones, as he please. Uneven tempers by the two first are swayed, And you in both unluckily betrayed. But I untouched resisted all his art, Till beauty made a passage to my heart. For (though unmoved in Loyalty and Truth) He found an easy softness in my Youth. And all the tender symptoms that do prove A frame by nature pliable to Love. He showed me then the beauteous Amoretta, And who could see and scape— He, whilst I stood with all her charms amazed, And on her heavenly features only gazed, Whispered soft words, such words that she Was pleased with them, and for their sakes with me. Such words! Each Goddess stood with listening ear, And smiled, and wished to her he'd made the prayer. They, with th' innocence of my look and mein Moved her to pity, and say, she'd be mine. Mopsus. Stay; now you talk of Love, did you not see my Wife, (For I'm so busy with the affairs of Life) I'd e'en forgot to ask, although but now One of our Lads just told me that he saw A spruce young Corser o'th' other Town. Though 'tis out of season give her a green Gown. Damon. O name not Women, 've ever been our curse, And of all ills to us the fatal source. Through Women first from Paradise we fell, And through that Stranger, they're Hells Agents still. Yours must be false, since mine is so, and she Had all her Sex's truth and constancy. Till by those arts he won her first to me, He taught her scorn this low humility. Urging her merit claimed a Sovereign sway, (For she was always Lady o'th' May.) And since heaven had her frame 'bove ours refined, For somewhat greater than a Swained designed. Then tampered thus with me, now times are fit For change, side thou with me, I'll make thee Great. You say, you love; and greatness will regain Your Amoretta, and firmly both maintain. 'Twas well I loved (for the well baited hook My sinking virtue desperately shaken) Till that, with just disdain my heart did fire, (For that, where birth fails, can great Souls inspire.) What though her shape excels all Womankind, My admiration's not to that confined. I loved her virtue, and when that decays, Fancy may live, but real passion dies. Tell her, said I, I here her loss will mourn. And use base means, (though to enjoy her,) scorn. 'Tis just that You, who your Allegiance lose, Should have't repaid by Wives, in broken Vows. But why must I be lost, since none did more Than Damon, all you Deities, adore. No Shepherd did more holy Offerings bring, Lambs, fruit, fresh waters o'th' living Spring, Or did in sweeter Notes your praises sing. Not even they whose virtue grew so high, As here on earth to share your Deity. 'Twas well-placed Love raised most of you to Gods, And I in Amoretta had sure the Odds. O no! though Beauty finely gild the Face 'Tis Golden Constancy that makes the Price; And such were they, so to their Lovers true, That had you then been Gods, they had resisted you. 'Twas such I dreamt my Amoretta would prove; And such she was, when led by artless Love. You may remember; how each Sunny day, (Wi'th ' same Innocence those Young Lambs play) In every pleasant Shade inclasped we lay, And in soft breathe sighed our Souls away. No damask risen so purely blushed, as she, Such was the force of native modesty. Whilst in her bosom wantonly I threw, Pinks, violets, Jes'min, (sweetest Flowers that grew) Yet sweeter there, then in May's pearly dew. I carved her name on every growing bark; With that I did my wand'ring younlings mark. There were unfensed lay open to the Strand, Her name prescribed the limits o'my Land. I found no Bird that nature framed for speech, But did their name in various Sonnets teach. That made the sweetest music o'the wood, And Echo, that so plainly understood: That 'twould of't self in whistling Winds repeat, And in just motions neighbouring Waters beat. But now, bleak Winds blast all the tender Sprouts, And quaking Sheep pierce thro' their tattered Coats. No Birds are heard here, but the ghastly Owl Shrieking her baleful note; Wolves howl, And stormy Waves in foaming Billows roll: You see I'm not the merry Swain I was But here forlorn, stretched on this withered grass, In doleful sighs the tedious hours pass. She heard (for Cupid so designed) while she Beneath a Wilows shady Covert lay. And whether shame made her so long forbear, Or curiosity of hearing more. Who knows? at last, she, lest he farther grieved, His drooping Spirits in such words revived. I, thro' another, first to you did yield: But's your own merit now has won the field, I heard Maids always did their Lovers try, Ere they resigned themselves, and liberty. But lest, thro' ill conduct in the search, there lie Some seeming cause for future jealousy. Know that I stood by all their Arts unmoved, And most, then when I seemed to scorn, my Damon loved. And, thus, their ease and wealth I'll quit, for you; And that's a powerful argument I'm true. Come, since the night grows on, let's homeward go, And love, when there, will prompt us what to do. He, snatched his Pipe, and as they went, he played Such tender notes, as soothed the yielding Maid, And she to work his growing passion high, Sung to his Pipe, in sweetest harmony, These following Words, Since love's the business of our Sex, 'Ts yours to keep us True. Pan Shepherds only made for us, And us, rewards to you. If we Love on; then calls not false, Tho it should prove elsewhere. 'Tis you are false, in leaving yours, We move but in our Sphere. So Planets, though they're wand'ring Stars, (And 've oft called me so;) 've found in their unequal ways A just proportion go. Mopsus the while, wi'th ' same grizly Beard, That made him once, as Policitian, feared; And help of horns sneaked off wi'th ' next Herd. FINIS.