The Works of Aphra Behn, Volume VI

by Aphra Behn

FIVE o'CLOCK.

Dangerous Visits.

I foresee, or fear, that these busy impertinent Friends will oblige you to visit some Ladies of their Acquaintance, or yours; my Watch does not forbid you. Yet I must tell you, I apprehend Danger in such Visits; and I fear, you will have need of all your Care and Precaution, in these Encounters. That you may give me no cause to suspect you, perhaps you will argue, that Civility obliges you to it. If I were assur'd there would no other Design be carried on, I should believe it were to advance an amorous Prudence too far, to forbid you. Only keep yourself upon your guard; for the Business of most part of the Fair Sex, is, to seek only the Conquest of Hearts: All their Civilities are but so many Interests; and they do nothing without Design. And in such Conversations there is always a Je ne scay quoy, that is fear'd, especially when Beauty is accompanied with Youth and Gaiety; and which they assume upon all occasions that may serve their turn. And I confess, 'tis not an easy matter to be just in these Hours and Conversations: The most certain way of being so, is to imagine I read all your Thoughts, observe all your Looks, and hear all your Words.

The Caution.

My Damon, if your Heart be kind,
Do not too long with Beauty stay;
For there are certain Moments when the Mind
Is hurry'd by the Force of Charms away.
In Fate a Minute critical there lies,
That waits on Love, and takes you by Surprize.

A Lover pleas'd with Constancy,
Lives still as if the Maid he lov'd were by:
As if his Actions were in view,
As if his Steps she did pursue;
Or that his very Soul she knew.
Take heed; for though I am not present there,
My Love, my Genius waits you every where.

I am very much pleas'd with the Remedy, you say, you make use of to defend your self from the Attacks that Beauty gives your Heart; which in one of your Billets, you said was this, or to this purpose:

The Charm for Constancy.

Iris, to keep my Soul entire and true,
It thinks, each Moment of the Day, on you.
And when a charming Face I see,
That does all other Eyes incline,
It has no Influence on me:
I think it ev'n deform'd to thine.
My Eyes, my Soul, and Sense, regardless move
To all, but the dear Object of my Love.

But, Damon, I know all Lovers are naturally Flatterers, tho' they do not think so themselves; because every one makes a Sense of Beauty according to his own Fancy. But perhaps you will say in your own defence, That 'tis not Flattery to say an unbeautiful Woman is beautiful, if he that says so believes she is so. I should be content to acquit you of the first, provided you allow me the last: And if I appear charming in Damon's eyes, I am not fond of the Approbation of any other. 'Tis enough the World thinks me not altogether disagreeable, to justify his Choice; but let your good Opinion give what Increase it pleases to my Beauty, tho' your Approbation give me a Pleasure, it shall not a Vanity; and I am contented that Damon should think me a Beauty, without my believing I am one. 'Tis not to draw new Assurances, and new Vows from you, that I speak this; though Tales of Love are the only ones we desire to hear often told, and which never tire the Hearers if addrest to themselves. But 'tis not to this end I now seem to doubt what you say to my advantage: No, my Heart knows no Disguise, nor can dissemble one Thought of it to Damon; 'tis all sincere, and honest as his Wish: 'Tis therefore it tells you, it does not credit every thing you say; tho' I believe you say abundance of Truths in a great part of my Character. But when you advance to that, which my own Sense, my Judgment, or my Glass cannot persuade me to believe, you must give me leave either to believe you think me vain enough to credit you, or pleas'd that your Sentiments and mine are differing in this point. But I doubt I may rather reply in some Verses, a Friend of yours and mine sent to a Person she thought had but indifferent Sentiments for her; yet, who nevertheless flatter'd her, because he imagin'd she had a very great Esteem for him. She is a Woman that, you know, naturally hates Flattery: On the other side she was extremely dissatisfy'd, and uneasy at his Opinion of his being more in her favour than she desir'd he should believe. So that one Night having left her full of Pride and Anger, she next Morning sent him these Verses, instead of a Billetdoux.

The Defiance.

By Heaven 'tis false, I am not vain;
And rather would the Subject be
Of your Indifference, or Disdain,
Than Wit or Raillery.
Take back the trifling Praise you give,
And pass it on some easier Fool,
Who may the injuring Wit believe,
That turns her into ridicule.

Tell her, she's witty, fair and gay,
With all the Charms that can subdue:
Perhaps she'll credit what you say;
But curse me if I do.

If your Diversion you design,
On my Good-nature you have prest:
Or if you do intend it mine,
You have mistook the Jest.

Philander, fly that guilty Art:
Your charming facile Wit will find,
It cannot play on any Heart,
That is sincere and kind.

For Wit with Softness to reside,
Good-nature is with Pity stor'd;
But Flattery's the result of Pride,
And fawns to be ador'd.

Nay, even when you smile and bow,
'Tis to be render'd more compleat:
Your Wit, with ev'ry Grace you shew,
Is but a popular Cheat.

Laugh on, and call me Coxcomb—do;
And, your Opinion to improve,
Think, all you think of me is true;
And to confirm it, swear I love.

Then, while you wreck my Soul with Pain,
And of a cruel Conquest boast,
'Tis you, Philander, that are vain,
And witty at my cost.

Possibly, the angry Aminta, when she writ these Verses, was more offended, that he believed himself belov'd, than that he flatter'd; tho' she wou'd seem to make that a great part of the Quarrel, and Cause of her Resentment: For we are often in an humour to seem more modest in that point, than naturally we are; being too apt to have a favourable Opinion of our selves: And 'tis rather the Effects of a Fear that we are flatter'd, than our own ill Opinion of the Beauty flatter'd; and that the Praiser thinks not so well of it, as we do our selves, or at least we wish he should. Not but there are Grains of Allowance for the Temper of him that speaks: One Man's Humour is to talk much; and he may be permitted to enlarge upon the Praise he gives the Person he pretends to, without being accus'd of much Guilt. Another hates to be wordy; from such an one, I have known one soft Expression, one tender Thing, go as far as whole Days everlasting Protestations urged with Vows, and mighty Eloquence. And both the one and the other, indeed, must be allow'd in good manners, to stretch the Compliment beyond the bounds of nice Truth: and we must not wonder to hear a Man call a Woman a Beauty, when she is not ugly; or another a great Wit, if she have but common Sense above the Vulgar; well bred, when well drest; and good-natur'd, when civil. And as I should be very ridiculous, if I took all you said for absolute Truth; so I should be very unjust, not to allow you very sincere in almost all you said besides; and those things, the most material to Love, Honour and Friendship. And for the rest (Damon) be it true or false, this believe, you speak with such a Grace, that I cannot chuse but credit you; and find an infinite Pleasure in that Faith, because I love you: And if I cannot find the Cheat, I am contented you should deceive me on, because you do it so agreeably.