These were my notions of Life; and I found myself altogether useless in the World without Love; methought I had nothing to animate me to Gallant things, without Love, or Women: I had no use of Wit or Youth without the fair, and yet I did not wish wholly to ingage myself neither a second time, having been so ill-treated before by Love: But I found there were ways to entertain one’s self agreeably enough without dying or venturing the breaking of a heart for the matter: That there were Beauties to be obtained without the hazard of hanging or drowning one’s self: I never had tried, but I found it natural enough to my Humour and Constitution, to flatter and dissemble, swear and lye; I viewed my self in my Glass, and found myself very well recovered from the Ruins my first Amour had made, and believed myself as fit for Conquest, as any Sir _Fopling_, or Sir _Courtly Nice_ of ‘em all. To this fine Person and good Meen and Shape, (as I thought,) I added handsom Dressing, the thing that takes the Heart infinitely above all your other Parts, and thus set out a snare for vain Beauty; I every day went out of the City of _Indifference_, to see what new Adventures I could meet withal. One day I incountred a Woman, who, at first sight appeared very agreeable; she had an Air easie, free, and Galliard; such as fails not to take at first view: This was _Coquettre_, who, the very first time she saw me, Addrest herself to me with very great Complisance and good Humour, and invited me to her Apartment, where she assured me I should not fail to be entertained very agreeably; and at the same time pulling out of her Pocket a Paper, she shewed me these Words written; Let Love no more your Heart inspire, Thô Beauty every hour you see; Pass no farther than desire, If you’ll truly happy be. Every day fresh Objects view, And for all have Complisance. Search all places still for new, And to all make some Advance; For where Wit and Youth agree, There’s no Life like Gallantry. _Laura’s_ Heart you may receive, And to morrow _Julia’s_ prise: Take what young _Diana_ gives, Pity _Lucia_ when she dies: _Portia’s_ Face you must admire, And to _Clorin’s_ Shape submit, _Phillis_ Dancing gives you Fire, _Celia’s_ Softness, _Clara’s_ Wit. Thus all at once you may persue, ‘Tis too little to Love two. The powerful smiling God of Hearts So much tenderness imparts, You must upon his Altars lay A thousand Offerings every day: And so soft is kind desire; Oh! so Charming is the Fire, That if nice _Adraste_ scorns, Gentler _Ariadne_ burns. Still Another keep in play (If One refuse,) to give you Joy. Cease therefore to disturb your Hours, For having two desires A Heart can manage two Amours, And burn with several Fires. The day has hours enough in store To visit two or half a score.