قراءة كتاب The Works of Aphra Behn, Volume VI
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do.
Prudence no longer is my Guide,
Nor take I Counsel of my Pride.
In vain does Honour now invade,
In vain does Reason take my part,
If against Love it do persuade,
If it rebel against my Heart.
If the soft Ev'ning do invite,
And I incline to take the Air,
The Birds, the Spring, the Flow'rs no more delight;
'Tis Love makes all the Pleasure there:
Love, which about me still I bear;
I'm charm'd with what I thither bring,
And add a Softness to the Spring.
If for Devotion I design,
Love meets me, even at the Shrine;
In all my Worships claims a part,
And robs even Heaven of my Heart:
All Day does counsel aud controul,
And all the Night employs my Soul.
No wonder then if all you think be true,
That Love's concern'd in all I do for you.
And, Damon, you, know that Love is no ill Master; and I must say, with a Blush, that he has found me no unapt Scholar; and he instructs too agreeably not to succeed in all he undertakes.
When he resolves, what God withstands?
But I ought to explain to you my Watch: The naked Love which you will find in the middle of it, with his Wings clipp'd, to shew you he is fixed and constant, and will not fly away, points you out with his Arrow the four and twenty Hours that compose the Day and the Night: Over every Hour you will find written what you ought to do, during its Course; and every Half-hour is marked with a Sigh, since the quality of a Lover is, to sigh day and night: Sighs are the Children of Lovers, that are born every Hour. And that my Watch may always be just, Love himself ought to conduct it; and your Heart should keep time with the Movement:
If by your Heart the Motion's set;
According as that's false or true,
You'll find my Watch will answer it.
Every Hour is tedious to a Lover separated from his Mistress: and to shew you how good I am, I will have my Watch instruct you, to pass some of them without Inquietude; that the force of your Imagination may sometimes charm the Trouble you have for my Absence:
My Heart may too much Credit give:
But, Damon, you can charm my Fear,
And soon my Error undeceive.
But I will not disturb my Repose at this time with a Jealousy, which I hope is altogether frivolous and vain; but begin to instruct you in the Mysteries of my Watch. Cast then your Eyes upon the eighth Hour in the Morning, which is the Hour I would have you begin to wake: you will find there written,
EIGHT o'CLOCK.
Agreeable Reverie.
Do not rise yet; you may find Thoughts agreeable enough, when you awake, to entertain you longer in Bed. And 'tis in that Hour you ought to recollect all the Dreams you had in the Night. If you had dream'd any thing to my advantage, confirm your self in that thought; but if to my disadvantage, renounce it, and disown the injurious Dream. 'Tis in this Hour also that I give you leave to reflect on all that I have ever said and done, that has been most obliging to you, and that gives you the most tender Sentiments.
The Reflections.
Reflects on things that charm and please,
You give me Proofs that you are kind,
And set my doubting Soul at ease:
For when your Heart receives with Joy
The thoughts of Favours which I give,
My Smiles in vain I not employ,
And on the Square we love and live.
Think then on all I ever did,
That e'er was charming, e'er was dear;
Let nothing from that Soul be hid,
Whose Griefs and Joys I feel and share.
All that your Love and Faith have sought, }
All that your Vows and Sighs have bought, }
Now render present to your Thought. }
And for what's to come, I give you leave, Damon, to flatter your self, and to expect, I shall still pursue those Methods, whose Remembrance charms so well: But, if it be possible, conceive these kind Thoughts between sleeping and waking, that all my too forward Complaisance, my Goodness, and my Tenderness, which I confess to have for you, may pass for Half Dreams: for 'tis most certain,
Are ever to the Lover dear;
Yet, lest he should reproach that easy Flame,
That buys its Satisfaction with its Shame;
She ought but rarely to confess
How much she finds of Tenderness;
Nicely to guard the yielding part,
And hide the hard-kept Secret in her Heart.
For, let me tell you, Damon, tho' the Passion of a Woman of Honour be ever so innocent, and the Lover never so discreet and honest; her Heart feels I know not what of Reproach within, at the reflection of any Favours she has allow'd him. For my part, I never call to mind the least soft or kind Word I have spoken to Damon, without finding at the same instant my Face cover'd over with Blushes, and my Heart with sensible Pain. I sigh at the Remembrance of every Touch I have stolen from his Hand, and have upbraided my Soul, which confesses so much guilty Love, as that secret Desire of touching him made appear. I am angry at the Discovery, though I am pleas'd at the same time with the Satisfaction I take in doing so; and ever disorder'd at the Remembrance of such Arguments of too much Love. And these unquiet Sentiments alone are sufficient to persuade me, that our Sex cannot be reserv'd too much. And I have often, on these occasions, said to my self,
The Reserve.