'Tis a hard question, and a doubtful chance. One maid, corrupted, bawds the better for't; Another for herself would keep the sport. Thy business may be furthered or delayed; But, by my counsel, let alone the maid; Even though she should consent to do the feat, The profit's little, and the danger great. I will not lead thee through a rugged road, But, where the way lies open, safe, and broad. Yet if thou find'st her very much thy friend, And her good face her diligence commend, Let the fair mistress have thy first embrace, And let the maid come after in her place. But this I will advise, and mark my words; For 'tis the best advice my skill affords: If needs thou with the damsel wilt begin, Before the attempt is made, make sure to win; For then the secret better will be kept, And she can tell no tales when once she's dipt. 'Tis for the fowler's interest to beware, The bird entangled should not 'scape the snare. The fish, once pricked, avoids the bearded hook, And spoils the sport of all the neighbouring brook. But if the wench be thine, she makes thy way, } And, for thy sake, her mistress will betray; } Tell all she knows, and all she hears her say. } Keep well the counsel of thy faithful spy; So shalt thou learn whene'er she treads awry. All things the stations of their seasons keep, And certain times there are to sow and reap. Ploughmen and sailors for the season stay, } One to plough land, and one to plough the sea; } So should the lover wait the lucky day. } Then stop thy suit, it hurts not thy design; But think, another hour she may be thine. And when she celebrates her birth at home, } Or when she views the public shows of Rome, } Know, all thy visits then are troublesome. } Defer thy work, and put not then to sea, For that's a boding and a stormy day. Else take thy time, and, when thou canst, begin; To break a Jewish Sabbath, think no sin: Nor even on superstitious days abstain; Not when the Romans were at Allia slain. Ill omens in her frowns are understood; When she's in humour, every day is good. But than her birth day seldom comes a worse, } When bribes and presents must be sent of course; } And that's a bloody day, that costs thy purse. } Be staunch, yet parsimony will be vain; The craving sex will still the lover drain. No skill can shift them off, nor art remove; They will be begging, when they know we love. The merchant comes upon the appointed day, Who shall before thy face his wares display; To choose for her she craves thy kind advice; Then begs again, to bargain for the price: But when she has her purchase in her eye,