Clauder

Mammon: Do we succeed? Is our day come? And holds it?Face: The evening will set red upon you, sir;You have color for it, crimson: the red fermentHas done his office; three hours hence prepare youTo see projection.Mammon: Pertinax, my Surly,Again I say to thee, aloud, BE RICH.This day thou shalt have ingots; and tomorrowGive lords th’affront.—Is it, my Zephyrus, right?Blushes the bolt’s-head?Face: Like a wench with child, sir,That were but now discover’d to her master.Mammon: Excellent witty Lungs!—My only care isWhere to get stuff enough now, to project on;This town will not half serve me.Face: No, sir? Buy the covering off o’ churches.Mammon: That’s true.Face: Yes.Let ’em stand bare, as do their auditory;Or cap ’em new with shingles.Mammon: No, good thatch:Thatch will lie upo’ the rafters, Lungs.Lungs, I will manumit thee from the furnace;I will restore thee thy complexion, Puff,Lost in the embers; and repair this brain,Hurt wi’ the fumes o’ the metals.Face: I have blown, sir,Hard, for your worship; thrown by many a coal,When ’twas not beech; weigh’d those I put in, justTo keep your heat still even. These blear’d eyesHave wak’d to read your several colors, sir,Of the pale citron, the green lion, the crow,The peacock’s tail, the plumed swan.Mammon: And lastly,Thou hast descried the flower, the sanguis agni?Face: Yes, sir.Mammon: Where’s master?Face: At’s prayers, sir, he;Good man, he’s doing his devotionsFor the success.Mammon: Lungs, I will set a periodTo all thy labors; thou shalt be the masterOf my seraglio.Face: Good, sir.Mammon: But do you hear?I’ll geld you, Lungs.Face: Yes, sir.Mammon: For I do meanTo have a list of wives and concubinesEqual with Solomon, who had the stoneAlike with me; and I will make me a backwith the elixir, that shall be as toughAs Hercules, to encounter fifty a night.—Thou’rt sure thou saw’st it blood?Face: Both blood and spirit, sir.Mammon: I will have all my beds blown up, not stuft;Down is too hard: and then, mine oval roomFill’d with such pictures as Tiberius tookFrom Elephantis, and dull AretineBut coldly imitated. Then, my glassesCut in more subtle angles, to disperseAnd multiply the figures, as I walkNamed between my succubae. My mistsI’ll have of perfume, vapor’d ’bout the room,To lose ourselves in; and my baths, like pitsTo fall into; from whence we will come forth,And roll us dry in gossamer and roses.—Is it arrived at ruby?—Where I spyA wealthy citizen, or a rich lawyer,Have a sublim’d pure wife, unto that fellowI’ll send a thousand pound to be my cuckold.Face: And I shall carry it?Mammon: No, I’ll ha’ no bawdsBut fathers and mothers: they will do it best,Best of all others. And my flatterersShall be the pure and gravest of divines,That I can get for money. My mere fools,Eloquent burgesses, and then my poets,Whom I shall entertain still for that subject.The few that would give out themselves to beCourt and town-stallions, and, each-where, belyLadies who are known most innocent, for them,—Those will I beg, to make me eunuchs of:And they shall fan me with ten ostrich tailsA-piece, made in a plume to gather wind.We will be brave, Puff, now we ha’ the med’cine,My meat shall all come in, in Indian shells,Dishes of agate set in gold, and studdedwith emeralds, sapphires, hyacinths, and rubies.The tongues of carps, dormies, and camels’ heels,Boil’d i’ the spirit of sol, and dissolv’d pearl(Apicius’ diet, ’gainst the epilepsy):And I will eat these broths with spoons of amber,Headed with diamond and carbuncle.My foot-boy shall eat pheasants, calver’d salmons,Knots, godwits, lampreys: I myself will haveThe beards of barbel serv’d, instead of salads;Oil’d mushrooms; and the swelling unctuous papsOf a fat pregnant sow, newly cut off,Drest with an exquisite and poignant sauce;For which, I’ll say unto my cook, There’s gold;Go forth, and be a knight.Face: Sir, I’ll go lookA little, how it heightens. (Exit)Mammon: Do.—My shirtsI’ll have of taffeta-sarsnet, soft and lightAs cobwebs; and for all my other raiment,It shall be such as might provoke the Persian,Were he to teach the world riot anew.My gloves of fishes and birds’ skins, perfum’dWith gums of paradise, and Eastern air—Surly: And do you think to have the stone with this?Mammon: No, I do think t’have all this with the stone.Surly: Why, I have heard he must behomo frugi,A pious, holy, and religious man,One free from mortal sin, a very virgin.Mammon: That makes it, sir; he is so. But I buy it;My venture brings it me. He, honest wretch,A notable, superstitious, good soul,Has worn his knees bare, and his slippers bald,With prayer and fasting for it: and, sir, let himDo it alone, for me, still. Here he comes,Not a profane word afore him; ’tis poison.

Mammon: Do we succeed? Is our day come? And holds it?

Face: The evening will set red upon you, sir;You have color for it, crimson: the red fermentHas done his office; three hours hence prepare youTo see projection.

Face: The evening will set red upon you, sir;

You have color for it, crimson: the red ferment

Has done his office; three hours hence prepare you

To see projection.

Mammon: Pertinax, my Surly,Again I say to thee, aloud, BE RICH.This day thou shalt have ingots; and tomorrowGive lords th’affront.—Is it, my Zephyrus, right?Blushes the bolt’s-head?

Mammon: Pertinax, my Surly,

Again I say to thee, aloud, BE RICH.

This day thou shalt have ingots; and tomorrow

Give lords th’affront.—Is it, my Zephyrus, right?

Blushes the bolt’s-head?

Face: Like a wench with child, sir,That were but now discover’d to her master.

Face: Like a wench with child, sir,

That were but now discover’d to her master.

Mammon: Excellent witty Lungs!—My only care isWhere to get stuff enough now, to project on;This town will not half serve me.

Mammon: Excellent witty Lungs!—My only care is

Where to get stuff enough now, to project on;

This town will not half serve me.

Face: No, sir? Buy the covering off o’ churches.

Mammon: That’s true.

Face: Yes.Let ’em stand bare, as do their auditory;Or cap ’em new with shingles.

Face: Yes.

Let ’em stand bare, as do their auditory;

Or cap ’em new with shingles.

Mammon: No, good thatch:Thatch will lie upo’ the rafters, Lungs.Lungs, I will manumit thee from the furnace;I will restore thee thy complexion, Puff,Lost in the embers; and repair this brain,Hurt wi’ the fumes o’ the metals.

Mammon: No, good thatch:

Thatch will lie upo’ the rafters, Lungs.

Lungs, I will manumit thee from the furnace;

I will restore thee thy complexion, Puff,

Lost in the embers; and repair this brain,

Hurt wi’ the fumes o’ the metals.

Face: I have blown, sir,Hard, for your worship; thrown by many a coal,When ’twas not beech; weigh’d those I put in, justTo keep your heat still even. These blear’d eyesHave wak’d to read your several colors, sir,Of the pale citron, the green lion, the crow,The peacock’s tail, the plumed swan.

Face: I have blown, sir,

Hard, for your worship; thrown by many a coal,

When ’twas not beech; weigh’d those I put in, just

To keep your heat still even. These blear’d eyes

Have wak’d to read your several colors, sir,

Of the pale citron, the green lion, the crow,

The peacock’s tail, the plumed swan.

Mammon: And lastly,Thou hast descried the flower, the sanguis agni?

Mammon: And lastly,

Thou hast descried the flower, the sanguis agni?

Face: Yes, sir.

Mammon: Where’s master?

Face: At’s prayers, sir, he;Good man, he’s doing his devotionsFor the success.

Face: At’s prayers, sir, he;

Good man, he’s doing his devotions

For the success.

Mammon: Lungs, I will set a periodTo all thy labors; thou shalt be the masterOf my seraglio.

Mammon: Lungs, I will set a period

To all thy labors; thou shalt be the master

Of my seraglio.

Face: Good, sir.

Mammon: But do you hear?I’ll geld you, Lungs.

Mammon: But do you hear?

I’ll geld you, Lungs.

Face: Yes, sir.

Mammon: For I do meanTo have a list of wives and concubinesEqual with Solomon, who had the stoneAlike with me; and I will make me a backwith the elixir, that shall be as toughAs Hercules, to encounter fifty a night.—Thou’rt sure thou saw’st it blood?

Mammon: For I do mean

To have a list of wives and concubines

Equal with Solomon, who had the stone

Alike with me; and I will make me a back

with the elixir, that shall be as tough

As Hercules, to encounter fifty a night.—

Thou’rt sure thou saw’st it blood?

Face: Both blood and spirit, sir.

Mammon: I will have all my beds blown up, not stuft;Down is too hard: and then, mine oval roomFill’d with such pictures as Tiberius tookFrom Elephantis, and dull AretineBut coldly imitated. Then, my glassesCut in more subtle angles, to disperseAnd multiply the figures, as I walkNamed between my succubae. My mistsI’ll have of perfume, vapor’d ’bout the room,To lose ourselves in; and my baths, like pitsTo fall into; from whence we will come forth,And roll us dry in gossamer and roses.—Is it arrived at ruby?—Where I spyA wealthy citizen, or a rich lawyer,Have a sublim’d pure wife, unto that fellowI’ll send a thousand pound to be my cuckold.

Mammon: I will have all my beds blown up, not stuft;

Down is too hard: and then, mine oval room

Fill’d with such pictures as Tiberius took

From Elephantis, and dull Aretine

But coldly imitated. Then, my glasses

Cut in more subtle angles, to disperse

And multiply the figures, as I walk

Named between my succubae. My mists

I’ll have of perfume, vapor’d ’bout the room,

To lose ourselves in; and my baths, like pits

To fall into; from whence we will come forth,

And roll us dry in gossamer and roses.—

Is it arrived at ruby?—Where I spy

A wealthy citizen, or a rich lawyer,

Have a sublim’d pure wife, unto that fellow

I’ll send a thousand pound to be my cuckold.

Face: And I shall carry it?

Mammon: No, I’ll ha’ no bawdsBut fathers and mothers: they will do it best,Best of all others. And my flatterersShall be the pure and gravest of divines,That I can get for money. My mere fools,Eloquent burgesses, and then my poets,Whom I shall entertain still for that subject.The few that would give out themselves to beCourt and town-stallions, and, each-where, belyLadies who are known most innocent, for them,—Those will I beg, to make me eunuchs of:And they shall fan me with ten ostrich tailsA-piece, made in a plume to gather wind.We will be brave, Puff, now we ha’ the med’cine,My meat shall all come in, in Indian shells,Dishes of agate set in gold, and studdedwith emeralds, sapphires, hyacinths, and rubies.The tongues of carps, dormies, and camels’ heels,Boil’d i’ the spirit of sol, and dissolv’d pearl(Apicius’ diet, ’gainst the epilepsy):And I will eat these broths with spoons of amber,Headed with diamond and carbuncle.My foot-boy shall eat pheasants, calver’d salmons,Knots, godwits, lampreys: I myself will haveThe beards of barbel serv’d, instead of salads;Oil’d mushrooms; and the swelling unctuous papsOf a fat pregnant sow, newly cut off,Drest with an exquisite and poignant sauce;For which, I’ll say unto my cook, There’s gold;Go forth, and be a knight.

Mammon: No, I’ll ha’ no bawds

But fathers and mothers: they will do it best,

Best of all others. And my flatterers

Shall be the pure and gravest of divines,

That I can get for money. My mere fools,

Eloquent burgesses, and then my poets,

Whom I shall entertain still for that subject.

The few that would give out themselves to be

Court and town-stallions, and, each-where, bely

Ladies who are known most innocent, for them,—

Those will I beg, to make me eunuchs of:

And they shall fan me with ten ostrich tails

A-piece, made in a plume to gather wind.

We will be brave, Puff, now we ha’ the med’cine,

My meat shall all come in, in Indian shells,

Dishes of agate set in gold, and studded

with emeralds, sapphires, hyacinths, and rubies.

The tongues of carps, dormies, and camels’ heels,

Boil’d i’ the spirit of sol, and dissolv’d pearl

(Apicius’ diet, ’gainst the epilepsy):

And I will eat these broths with spoons of amber,

Headed with diamond and carbuncle.

My foot-boy shall eat pheasants, calver’d salmons,

Knots, godwits, lampreys: I myself will have

The beards of barbel serv’d, instead of salads;

Oil’d mushrooms; and the swelling unctuous paps

Of a fat pregnant sow, newly cut off,

Drest with an exquisite and poignant sauce;

For which, I’ll say unto my cook, There’s gold;

Go forth, and be a knight.

Face: Sir, I’ll go lookA little, how it heightens. (Exit)

Face: Sir, I’ll go look

A little, how it heightens. (Exit)

Mammon: Do.—My shirtsI’ll have of taffeta-sarsnet, soft and lightAs cobwebs; and for all my other raiment,It shall be such as might provoke the Persian,Were he to teach the world riot anew.My gloves of fishes and birds’ skins, perfum’dWith gums of paradise, and Eastern air—

Mammon: Do.—My shirts

I’ll have of taffeta-sarsnet, soft and light

As cobwebs; and for all my other raiment,

It shall be such as might provoke the Persian,

Were he to teach the world riot anew.

My gloves of fishes and birds’ skins, perfum’d

With gums of paradise, and Eastern air—

Surly: And do you think to have the stone with this?

Mammon: No, I do think t’have all this with the stone.

Surly: Why, I have heard he must behomo frugi,A pious, holy, and religious man,One free from mortal sin, a very virgin.

Surly: Why, I have heard he must behomo frugi,

A pious, holy, and religious man,

One free from mortal sin, a very virgin.

Mammon: That makes it, sir; he is so. But I buy it;My venture brings it me. He, honest wretch,A notable, superstitious, good soul,Has worn his knees bare, and his slippers bald,With prayer and fasting for it: and, sir, let himDo it alone, for me, still. Here he comes,Not a profane word afore him; ’tis poison.

Mammon: That makes it, sir; he is so. But I buy it;

My venture brings it me. He, honest wretch,

A notable, superstitious, good soul,

Has worn his knees bare, and his slippers bald,

With prayer and fasting for it: and, sir, let him

Do it alone, for me, still. Here he comes,

Not a profane word afore him; ’tis poison.

Again, in the same play, there is an enumeration of alchemical items, many of which were, both in ancient and in medieval times, used in amatory brews:

Subtle: Sir?Surly: What else are all your terms,Whereon no one o’ your writers ’grees with other?Of your elixir, yourlac virginis,Your stone, your med’cine, and your chrysosperm,Your sal, your sulphur, and your mercury,Your oil of height, your tree of life, your blood,Your marchesite, your tutie, your magnesia,Your toad, your crow, your dragon, and your panther;Your sun, your moon, your firmament, your adrop,Your lato, azoch, zernich, chilbrit, beautarit,And then your red man, and your white woman,With all your broths, your menstrues, and materialsOf piss and egg-shells, women’s terms, man’s blood,Hair o’ the head, burnt clouts, chalk, merds, and clay,Powder of bones, scalings of iron, glass,And worlds of other strange ingredients,Would burst a man to name?

Subtle: Sir?

Surly: What else are all your terms,Whereon no one o’ your writers ’grees with other?Of your elixir, yourlac virginis,Your stone, your med’cine, and your chrysosperm,Your sal, your sulphur, and your mercury,Your oil of height, your tree of life, your blood,Your marchesite, your tutie, your magnesia,Your toad, your crow, your dragon, and your panther;Your sun, your moon, your firmament, your adrop,Your lato, azoch, zernich, chilbrit, beautarit,And then your red man, and your white woman,With all your broths, your menstrues, and materialsOf piss and egg-shells, women’s terms, man’s blood,Hair o’ the head, burnt clouts, chalk, merds, and clay,Powder of bones, scalings of iron, glass,And worlds of other strange ingredients,Would burst a man to name?

Surly: What else are all your terms,

Whereon no one o’ your writers ’grees with other?

Of your elixir, yourlac virginis,

Your stone, your med’cine, and your chrysosperm,

Your sal, your sulphur, and your mercury,

Your oil of height, your tree of life, your blood,

Your marchesite, your tutie, your magnesia,

Your toad, your crow, your dragon, and your panther;

Your sun, your moon, your firmament, your adrop,

Your lato, azoch, zernich, chilbrit, beautarit,

And then your red man, and your white woman,

With all your broths, your menstrues, and materials

Of piss and egg-shells, women’s terms, man’s blood,

Hair o’ the head, burnt clouts, chalk, merds, and clay,

Powder of bones, scalings of iron, glass,

And worlds of other strange ingredients,

Would burst a man to name?

A number of herbs, some of which were reputed to produce amatory benefits, are mentioned in Ben Jonson’sVolpone:

Lady Politic Would-Be: Alas, good soul! the passion of the heart.Seed-Pearl were good now, boil’d with syrup of apples,Tincture of gold, and coral, citron-pills,Your elecampane root, myrobalances—Volpone: Ay me, I have ta’en a grasshopper by the wing!Lady Politic Would-Be: Burnt silk and amber. You have muscadelGood i’ the house—Volpone: You will not drink, and part?Lady Politic Would-Be: No, fear not that. I doubt we shall not getSome English saffron, half a dram would serve;Your sixteen cloves, a little musk, dried mints;Bugloss and barley-meal—

Lady Politic Would-Be: Alas, good soul! the passion of the heart.

Seed-Pearl were good now, boil’d with syrup of apples,

Tincture of gold, and coral, citron-pills,

Your elecampane root, myrobalances—

Volpone: Ay me, I have ta’en a grasshopper by the wing!

Lady Politic Would-Be: Burnt silk and amber. You have muscadelGood i’ the house—

Lady Politic Would-Be: Burnt silk and amber. You have muscadel

Good i’ the house—

Volpone: You will not drink, and part?

Lady Politic Would-Be: No, fear not that. I doubt we shall not getSome English saffron, half a dram would serve;Your sixteen cloves, a little musk, dried mints;Bugloss and barley-meal—

Lady Politic Would-Be: No, fear not that. I doubt we shall not get

Some English saffron, half a dram would serve;

Your sixteen cloves, a little musk, dried mints;

Bugloss and barley-meal—

In Ben Jonson’sVolponeNano the Dwarf sings some verses, in Act 2, scene 2, extolling an elixir that has remarkable medicinal and amatory properties:

You that would last long, list to my song,Make no more coil, but buy of this oil.Would you be ever fair and young?Stout of teeth, and strong of tongue?Tart of palate? quick of ear?Sharp of sight? of nostril clear?Moist of hand? and light of foot?Or, I will come nearer to ’t,Would you live free from all diseases?Do the act your mistress pleases,Yet fright all aches from your bones?Here’s a med’cine for the nones.

You that would last long, list to my song,

Make no more coil, but buy of this oil.

Would you be ever fair and young?

Stout of teeth, and strong of tongue?

Tart of palate? quick of ear?

Sharp of sight? of nostril clear?

Moist of hand? and light of foot?

Or, I will come nearer to ’t,

Would you live free from all diseases?

Do the act your mistress pleases,

Yet fright all aches from your bones?

Here’s a med’cine for the nones.

An amatory appeal is made in a scene fromBussy D’Ambois, a drama by the English playwright George Chapman (c. 1559–c. 1634). Monsieur, brother of King Henry III of France, addresses the Countess Tamyra:

Monsieur: And wherefore do you this? To please your husband?’Tis gross and fulsome: if your husband’s pleasureBe all your object, and you aim at honorIn living close to him, get you from Court;You may have him at home; these common put-offsFor common women serve: “My honor! Husband!”Dames maritorious ne’er were meritorious.Speak plain, and say, “I do not like you, sir,Y’are an ill-favor’d fellow in my eye;”And I am answer’d.Tamyra: Then, I pray, be answer’d:For in good faith, my lord, I do not like youIn that sort you like.

Monsieur: And wherefore do you this? To please your husband?

’Tis gross and fulsome: if your husband’s pleasure

Be all your object, and you aim at honor

In living close to him, get you from Court;

You may have him at home; these common put-offs

For common women serve: “My honor! Husband!”

Dames maritorious ne’er were meritorious.

Speak plain, and say, “I do not like you, sir,

Y’are an ill-favor’d fellow in my eye;”

And I am answer’d.

Tamyra: Then, I pray, be answer’d:For in good faith, my lord, I do not like youIn that sort you like.

Tamyra: Then, I pray, be answer’d:

For in good faith, my lord, I do not like you

In that sort you like.

The love charm in the form of a spell was a belief current in the Elizabethan age. In the dramaFriar Bacon and Friar Bungay, by Robert Greene, Bacon, conceived as a thaumaturgist, declares:

Thou com’st in post from merry Fressingfield,Fast-fancied to the Keeper’s bonny lass.

Thou com’st in post from merry Fressingfield,

Fast-fancied to the Keeper’s bonny lass.

Fast-fancied is an Elizabethan expression meaning bound by love.

The Elizabethan Fair, and all such traditional occasions for barter, commercial interchange, and public gossip were also and always an opportunity for amorous interludes. This is the view expressed inFriar Bacon and Friar Bungay, by Robert Greene (c. 1560–1592). Margaret, the fair maid of Fressingfield, enters:

Margaret: Thomas, maids when they come to see the fairCount not to make a cope for dearth of hay;When we have turn’d our butter to the salt,And set our cheese safely upon the racks,Then let our fathers price it as they please.We country sluts of merry FressingfieldCome to buy needless naughts to make us fine,And look that young men should be frank this day,And court us with such fairings as they can.Phoebus is blithe, and frolic looks from heaven.

Margaret: Thomas, maids when they come to see the fair

Count not to make a cope for dearth of hay;

When we have turn’d our butter to the salt,

And set our cheese safely upon the racks,

Then let our fathers price it as they please.

We country sluts of merry Fressingfield

Come to buy needless naughts to make us fine,

And look that young men should be frank this day,

And court us with such fairings as they can.

Phoebus is blithe, and frolic looks from heaven.

In a scene from the Elizabethan dramatist George Peele’sThe Old Wives Tale, Zantippa is in search of a husband. She and her ugly sister Celanta go to a well for water. A Head, speaking from the well, promises her a love charm, ‘some cockell-bread’:

Zantippa: Now for a husband, house, and home: God send a good one or none, I pray God! My father hath sent me to the well for the water of life, and tells me, if I give fair words, I shall have a husband. But here comes Celanta, my sweet sister. I’ll stand by and hear what she says.

Enter Celanta, the foul wench, to the well for water with a pot in her hand.

Celanta: My father hath sent me to the well for water, and he tells me, if I speak fair, I shall have a husband and none of the worst. Well, though I am black, I am sure all the world will not forsake me; and, as the old proverb is, though I am black, I am not the devil.

Zantippa: Marry-gup with a murrain. I know wherefore thou speakest that: but go thy ways home as wise as thou camest, or I’ll set thee home with a wanion.

Here she strikes her pitcher against her sister’s, and breaks them both, and then exit.

Celanta: I think this be the curstest quean in the world. You see what she is, a little fair, but as proud as the devil, and the veriest vixen that lives upon God’s earth. Well, I’ll let her alone, and go home and get another pitcher, and, for all this, get me to the well for water. Exit.

Enter two Furies out of the Conjurer’s cell and lay Huanebango by the Well of Life and then exeunt.

Re-enter Zantippa with a pitcher to the well.

Zantippa: Once again for a husband; and, in faith, Celanta, I have got the start of you; belike husbands grow by the well-side. Now my father says I must rule my tongue. Why, alas, what am I, then? A woman without a tongue is as a soldier without his weapon. But I’ll have my water, and be gone.

Here she offers to dip her pitcher in, and a Head speaks in the well.

Head: Gently dip, but not too deep,For fear you make the golden beard to weep.Fair maiden, white and red,Stroke me smooth, and comb my head,And thou shalt have some cockell-bread.

Head: Gently dip, but not too deep,

For fear you make the golden beard to weep.

Fair maiden, white and red,

Stroke me smooth, and comb my head,

And thou shalt have some cockell-bread.

In an old Elizabethan play there is reference to lunary or moonwort as a contributory factor in amatory thoughts:

I have heard of an herb called Lunary that being bound to the pulse of the sick causes nothing but dreams of weddings and dances.

InEndymion, a drama by the Elizabethan playwright John Lyly (c. 1554–c. 1606), Endymion soliloquizes:

As ebony, which no fire can scorch, is yet consumed with sweet savors, so my heart which cannot be bent by the hardness of fortune, may be bruised by amorous desires.

In the dramaThe Old Wives Tale, by George Peele, the Elizabethan playwright, Frolic and Fantastic sing an erotic chant:

Whenas the rye reach to the chin,And chopcherry, chopcherry ripe within,Strawberries swimming in the cream,And school-boys playing in the stream;Then, O then, O then, O my true-love said,Till that time come againShe could not live a maid.

Whenas the rye reach to the chin,

And chopcherry, chopcherry ripe within,

Strawberries swimming in the cream,

And school-boys playing in the stream;

Then, O then, O then, O my true-love said,

Till that time come again

She could not live a maid.

InEndymion, the Elizabethan drama by John Lyly, Sir Tophas describes a desirable woman:

Sir Tophas: I love no grissels; they are so brittle they will crack like glass, or so dainty that if they be touched they are straight of the fashion of wax:animus maioribus instat. I desire old matrons. What a sight would it be to embrace one whose hair were as orient as the pearl, whose teeth shall be so pure a watchet that they shall stain the truest turquoise, whose nose shall throw more beams from it than the fiery carbuncle, whose eyes shallbe environ’d about with redness exceeding the deepest coral, and whose lips might compare with silver for the paleness! Such a one if you can help me to, I will by piecemeal curtail my affections towards Dipsas, and walk my swelling thoughts till they be cold.

InPhilaster, a drama by Francis Beaumont (1584–1616) and John Fletcher (1579–1625), Megra, a Lascivious Lady, is thus described:

Dion: Faith, I think she is one whom the state keeps for the agents of our confederate princes; she’ll cog and lie with a whole army, before the league shall break. Her name is common through the kingdom, and the trophies of her dishonor advanced beyond Hercules’ Pillars. She loves to try the several constitutions of men’s bodies; and, indeed, has destroyed the worth of her own body by making experiment upon it for the good of the commonwealth.

InEndymion, John Lyly’s drama, Epiton and Sir Tophas have a verbal bout on love:

Epiton: Sir, will you give over wars and play with that bauble called love?

Tophas: Give over wars?No, Epi, Militat omnis amans, et habet sua castra Cupido.

Epiton: Love hate made you very eloquent, but your face is nothing fair.

Tophas:Non formosus erat, sed erat facundus Ulysses.

Epiton: Nay, I must seek a new master if you can speak nothing but verses.

Tophas:Quicquid conabar dicere, versus erat. Epi,I feel allOvid De Arte Amandilie as heavy at my heart as a load of logs.

InThe Lady of Pleasure, a play by the English dramatist James Shirley, Lady Bornwell is rebuked for her amorous diversions by her husband Sir Thomas:

Another game you have, which consumes moreYour fame than purse; your revels in the night,Your meetings called the “Ball,” to which repairAs to the Court of Pleasure, all your gallantsAnd ladies, whither bound by a subpoenaOf Venus, and small Cupid’s high displeasure;’Tis but the Family of Love translatedInto more costly sin!

Another game you have, which consumes more

Your fame than purse; your revels in the night,

Your meetings called the “Ball,” to which repair

As to the Court of Pleasure, all your gallants

And ladies, whither bound by a subpoena

Of Venus, and small Cupid’s high displeasure;

’Tis but the Family of Love translated

Into more costly sin!

Amatory enticement is illustrated in a scene inThe Lady of Pleasure, by James Shirley:

Lord: Have you business, madam, with me?Madam Decoy: And such, I hope, as will not beOffensive to your lordship.Lord: I pray speak it.Madam Decoy: I would desire your lordship’s ear more private.Lord: Wait i’ th’ next chamber till I call.—Now, madam.Exit Haircut.Madam Decoy: Although I am a stranger to your lordship,I would not lose a fair occasion offer’dTo show how much I honor, and would serve you.Lord: Please you to give me the particular,That I may know the extent of my engagement.I am ignorant by what desert you shouldBe encourag’d to have care of me.Madam Decoy: My lord,I will take boldness to be plain; besideYour other excellent parts, you have much fameFor your sweet inclination to our sex.Lord: How d’ye mean, madam?Madam Decoy: I’ that way your lordshipHath honorably practis’d upon someNot to be nam’d. Your noble constancyTo a mistress hath deserv’d our general vote;And I, a part of womankind, have thoughtHow to express my duty.Lord: In what, madam?Madam Decoy: Be not so strange, my lord. I know the beautyAnd pleasures of your eyes; that handsome creatureWith whose fair life all your delight took leave,And to whose memory you have paid too much sadTribute.Lord: What’s all this?Madam Decoy: This: if your lordshipAccept my service, in pure zeal to cureYour melancholy, I could point where you mightRepair your loss.Lord: Your ladyship, I conceive,Doth traffic in flesh merchandize.Madam Decoy: To menOf honor, like yourself. I am well knownTo some in court, and come not with ambitionNow to supplant your officer.Lord: What isThe lady of pleasure you prefer?Madam Decoy: A ladyOf birth and fortune, one upon whose virtueI may presume, the lady Aretina.Lord: Wife to Sir Thomas Bornwell?Madam Decoy: The same, sir.Lord: Have you prepar’d her?Madam Decoy: Not for your lordship, till I have found your pulse.I am acquainted with her disposition,She has a very appliable nature.Lord: And, madam, when expect you to be whiptFor doing these fine favors?Madam Decoy: How, my lord?Your lordship does but jest, I hope; you makeA difference between a lady thatDoes honorable offices, and oneThey call a bawd. Your lordship was not wontTo have such coarse opinion of our practice.Lord: The Lady Aretina is my kinswoman.Madam Decoy: What if she be, my lord? The nearer bloodThe nearer sympathy.

Lord: Have you business, madam, with me?

Madam Decoy: And such, I hope, as will not beOffensive to your lordship.

Madam Decoy: And such, I hope, as will not be

Offensive to your lordship.

Lord: I pray speak it.

Madam Decoy: I would desire your lordship’s ear more private.

Lord: Wait i’ th’ next chamber till I call.—Now, madam.

Lord: Wait i’ th’ next chamber till I call.—

Now, madam.

Exit Haircut.

Madam Decoy: Although I am a stranger to your lordship,I would not lose a fair occasion offer’dTo show how much I honor, and would serve you.

Madam Decoy: Although I am a stranger to your lordship,

I would not lose a fair occasion offer’d

To show how much I honor, and would serve you.

Lord: Please you to give me the particular,That I may know the extent of my engagement.I am ignorant by what desert you shouldBe encourag’d to have care of me.

Lord: Please you to give me the particular,

That I may know the extent of my engagement.

I am ignorant by what desert you should

Be encourag’d to have care of me.

Madam Decoy: My lord,I will take boldness to be plain; besideYour other excellent parts, you have much fameFor your sweet inclination to our sex.

Madam Decoy: My lord,

I will take boldness to be plain; beside

Your other excellent parts, you have much fame

For your sweet inclination to our sex.

Lord: How d’ye mean, madam?

Madam Decoy: I’ that way your lordshipHath honorably practis’d upon someNot to be nam’d. Your noble constancyTo a mistress hath deserv’d our general vote;And I, a part of womankind, have thoughtHow to express my duty.

Madam Decoy: I’ that way your lordship

Hath honorably practis’d upon some

Not to be nam’d. Your noble constancy

To a mistress hath deserv’d our general vote;

And I, a part of womankind, have thought

How to express my duty.

Lord: In what, madam?

Madam Decoy: Be not so strange, my lord. I know the beautyAnd pleasures of your eyes; that handsome creatureWith whose fair life all your delight took leave,And to whose memory you have paid too much sadTribute.

Madam Decoy: Be not so strange, my lord. I know the beauty

And pleasures of your eyes; that handsome creature

With whose fair life all your delight took leave,

And to whose memory you have paid too much sad

Tribute.

Lord: What’s all this?

Madam Decoy: This: if your lordshipAccept my service, in pure zeal to cureYour melancholy, I could point where you mightRepair your loss.

Madam Decoy: This: if your lordship

Accept my service, in pure zeal to cure

Your melancholy, I could point where you might

Repair your loss.

Lord: Your ladyship, I conceive,Doth traffic in flesh merchandize.

Lord: Your ladyship, I conceive,

Doth traffic in flesh merchandize.

Madam Decoy: To menOf honor, like yourself. I am well knownTo some in court, and come not with ambitionNow to supplant your officer.

Madam Decoy: To men

Of honor, like yourself. I am well known

To some in court, and come not with ambition

Now to supplant your officer.

Lord: What isThe lady of pleasure you prefer?

Lord: What is

The lady of pleasure you prefer?

Madam Decoy: A ladyOf birth and fortune, one upon whose virtueI may presume, the lady Aretina.

Madam Decoy: A lady

Of birth and fortune, one upon whose virtue

I may presume, the lady Aretina.

Lord: Wife to Sir Thomas Bornwell?

Madam Decoy: The same, sir.

Lord: Have you prepar’d her?

Madam Decoy: Not for your lordship, till I have found your pulse.I am acquainted with her disposition,She has a very appliable nature.

Madam Decoy: Not for your lordship, till I have found your pulse.

I am acquainted with her disposition,

She has a very appliable nature.

Lord: And, madam, when expect you to be whiptFor doing these fine favors?

Lord: And, madam, when expect you to be whipt

For doing these fine favors?

Madam Decoy: How, my lord?Your lordship does but jest, I hope; you makeA difference between a lady thatDoes honorable offices, and oneThey call a bawd. Your lordship was not wontTo have such coarse opinion of our practice.

Madam Decoy: How, my lord?

Your lordship does but jest, I hope; you make

A difference between a lady that

Does honorable offices, and one

They call a bawd. Your lordship was not wont

To have such coarse opinion of our practice.

Lord: The Lady Aretina is my kinswoman.

Madam Decoy: What if she be, my lord? The nearer bloodThe nearer sympathy.

Madam Decoy: What if she be, my lord? The nearer blood

The nearer sympathy.

InA New Way to Pay Old Debts, by the English dramatist Philip Massinger (1583–1640), there appears a description of a love philtre:

Furnace: Here, drink it off; the ingredients are cordial,And this the true elixir; it hath boil’dSince midnight for you. ’Tis the quintessenceOf five cocks of the game, ten dozen of sparrows,Knuckles of veal, potato-roots and marrow,Coral and ambergris. Were you two years olderAnd I had a wife, or gamesome mistress,I durst trust you with neither. You need not baitAfter this, I warrant you, though your journey’s long;You may ride on the strength of this till tomorrow morning.Allworth: Your courtesies overwhelm me: I much grieveTo part from such good friends.

Furnace: Here, drink it off; the ingredients are cordial,

And this the true elixir; it hath boil’d

Since midnight for you. ’Tis the quintessence

Of five cocks of the game, ten dozen of sparrows,

Knuckles of veal, potato-roots and marrow,

Coral and ambergris. Were you two years older

And I had a wife, or gamesome mistress,

I durst trust you with neither. You need not bait

After this, I warrant you, though your journey’s long;

You may ride on the strength of this till tomorrow morning.

Allworth: Your courtesies overwhelm me: I much grieveTo part from such good friends.

Allworth: Your courtesies overwhelm me: I much grieve

To part from such good friends.

Later, in Act 3 of the same play, Allworth, the young page, describes the amatory lure of Margaret:

Allworth: My much-lov’d lord, were Margaret only fair,The cannon of her more than earthly form,Though mounted high, commanding all beneath it,And ramm’d with bullets of her sparkling eyes,Of all the bulwarks that defend your sensesCould batter none, but that which guards your sight.But when the well-tun’d accents of her tongueMake music to you, and with numerous soundsAssault your hearing, (such as if UlyssesNow liv’d again, howe’er he stood the Syrens,Could not resist,) the combat must grow doubtfulBetween your reason and rebellious passions.And this too; when you feel her touch, and breathLike a swift western wind when it glides o’erArabia, creating gums and spices;And, in the van, the nectar of her lips,Which you must taste, bring the battalia on,Well arm’d, and strongly lin’d with her discourse,And knowing manners, to give entertainment;—Hippolytus himself would leave Diana,To follow such a Venus.Lord Lovell: Love hath made you poetical, Allworth.

Allworth: My much-lov’d lord, were Margaret only fair,

The cannon of her more than earthly form,

Though mounted high, commanding all beneath it,

And ramm’d with bullets of her sparkling eyes,

Of all the bulwarks that defend your senses

Could batter none, but that which guards your sight.

But when the well-tun’d accents of her tongue

Make music to you, and with numerous sounds

Assault your hearing, (such as if Ulysses

Now liv’d again, howe’er he stood the Syrens,

Could not resist,) the combat must grow doubtful

Between your reason and rebellious passions.

And this too; when you feel her touch, and breath

Like a swift western wind when it glides o’er

Arabia, creating gums and spices;

And, in the van, the nectar of her lips,

Which you must taste, bring the battalia on,

Well arm’d, and strongly lin’d with her discourse,

And knowing manners, to give entertainment;—

Hippolytus himself would leave Diana,

To follow such a Venus.

Lord Lovell: Love hath made you poetical, Allworth.

In another scene, between Sir Giles Overreach, an extortioner, and his daughter Margaret, the father gives his daughter amatory but sinister advice that is tantamount to the prescriptions of theKama Sutraand similar manuals:

Margaret: There’s too much disparitybetween his quality and mine, to hope it.Overreach: I more than hope’t, and doubt not to effect it.Be thou no enemy to thyself, my wealthShall weigh his titles down, and make you equals.Now for the means to assure him thine, observe me:Remember he’s a courtier and a soldier,And not to be trifled with; and therefore, whenHe comes to woo you, see you do not coy it:This mincing modesty has spoil’d many a matchBy a first refusal, in vain after hop’d for.Margaret: You’ll have me, sir, preserve the distance thatConfines a virgin?Overreach: Virgin me no virgins!I must have you lose that name, or you lose me.I will have you private—start not—I say, private;If thou art my true daughter, not a bastard,Thou wilt venture alone with one man, though he cameLike Jupiter to Semele, and come off, too;And therefore, when he kisses you, kiss close.Margaret: I have heard this is the strumpet’s fashion, sir,Which I must never learn.Overreach: Learn any thing,And from any creature that may make thee great;From the devil himself.Margaret (aside): This is but devilish doctrine!Overreach: Or, if his blood grows hot, suppose he offerBeyond this, do not you stay till it cool,But meet his ardor; if a couch be near,Sit down on’t, and invite him.Margaret: In your house,Your own house, sir! For Heaven’s sake, what are you then?Or what shall I be, sir?Overreach: Stand not on form;Words are no substances.Margaret: Though you could dispenseWith your own honor, cast aside religion,The hopes of Heaven, or fear of hell, excuse me,In worldly policy this is not the wayTo make me his wife; his whore, I grant it may do.My maiden honor so soon yielded up,Nay, prostituted, cannot but assure himI, that am light to him, will not hold weightWhene’er tempted by others; so, in judgment,When to his lust I have given up my honor,He must and will forsake me.Overreach: How! I forsake thee!Do I wear a sword for fashion? or is this armShrunk up or wither’d? Does there live a manOf that large list I have encounter’d withCan truly say I e’er gave inch of groundNot purchas’d with his blood that did oppose me?Forsake thee when the thing is done! He dares not.Give me but proof he has enjoy’d thy person,Though all his captains, echoes to his will,Stood arm’d by his side to justify the wrong,And he himself in the head of his bold troop,Spite of his lordship, and his colonelship,Or the judge’s favor, I will make him renderA bloody and a strict account, and force him,By marrying thee, to cure thy wounded honor!I have said it.

Margaret: There’s too much disparitybetween his quality and mine, to hope it.

Margaret: There’s too much disparity

between his quality and mine, to hope it.

Overreach: I more than hope’t, and doubt not to effect it.Be thou no enemy to thyself, my wealthShall weigh his titles down, and make you equals.Now for the means to assure him thine, observe me:Remember he’s a courtier and a soldier,And not to be trifled with; and therefore, whenHe comes to woo you, see you do not coy it:This mincing modesty has spoil’d many a matchBy a first refusal, in vain after hop’d for.

Overreach: I more than hope’t, and doubt not to effect it.

Be thou no enemy to thyself, my wealth

Shall weigh his titles down, and make you equals.

Now for the means to assure him thine, observe me:

Remember he’s a courtier and a soldier,

And not to be trifled with; and therefore, when

He comes to woo you, see you do not coy it:

This mincing modesty has spoil’d many a match

By a first refusal, in vain after hop’d for.

Margaret: You’ll have me, sir, preserve the distance thatConfines a virgin?

Margaret: You’ll have me, sir, preserve the distance that

Confines a virgin?

Overreach: Virgin me no virgins!I must have you lose that name, or you lose me.I will have you private—start not—I say, private;If thou art my true daughter, not a bastard,Thou wilt venture alone with one man, though he cameLike Jupiter to Semele, and come off, too;And therefore, when he kisses you, kiss close.

Overreach: Virgin me no virgins!

I must have you lose that name, or you lose me.

I will have you private—start not—I say, private;

If thou art my true daughter, not a bastard,

Thou wilt venture alone with one man, though he came

Like Jupiter to Semele, and come off, too;

And therefore, when he kisses you, kiss close.

Margaret: I have heard this is the strumpet’s fashion, sir,Which I must never learn.

Margaret: I have heard this is the strumpet’s fashion, sir,

Which I must never learn.

Overreach: Learn any thing,And from any creature that may make thee great;From the devil himself.

Overreach: Learn any thing,

And from any creature that may make thee great;

From the devil himself.

Margaret (aside): This is but devilish doctrine!

Overreach: Or, if his blood grows hot, suppose he offerBeyond this, do not you stay till it cool,But meet his ardor; if a couch be near,Sit down on’t, and invite him.

Overreach: Or, if his blood grows hot, suppose he offer

Beyond this, do not you stay till it cool,

But meet his ardor; if a couch be near,

Sit down on’t, and invite him.

Margaret: In your house,Your own house, sir! For Heaven’s sake, what are you then?Or what shall I be, sir?

Margaret: In your house,

Your own house, sir! For Heaven’s sake, what are you then?

Or what shall I be, sir?

Overreach: Stand not on form;Words are no substances.

Overreach: Stand not on form;

Words are no substances.

Margaret: Though you could dispenseWith your own honor, cast aside religion,The hopes of Heaven, or fear of hell, excuse me,In worldly policy this is not the wayTo make me his wife; his whore, I grant it may do.My maiden honor so soon yielded up,Nay, prostituted, cannot but assure himI, that am light to him, will not hold weightWhene’er tempted by others; so, in judgment,When to his lust I have given up my honor,He must and will forsake me.

Margaret: Though you could dispense

With your own honor, cast aside religion,

The hopes of Heaven, or fear of hell, excuse me,

In worldly policy this is not the way

To make me his wife; his whore, I grant it may do.

My maiden honor so soon yielded up,

Nay, prostituted, cannot but assure him

I, that am light to him, will not hold weight

Whene’er tempted by others; so, in judgment,

When to his lust I have given up my honor,

He must and will forsake me.

Overreach: How! I forsake thee!Do I wear a sword for fashion? or is this armShrunk up or wither’d? Does there live a manOf that large list I have encounter’d withCan truly say I e’er gave inch of groundNot purchas’d with his blood that did oppose me?Forsake thee when the thing is done! He dares not.Give me but proof he has enjoy’d thy person,Though all his captains, echoes to his will,Stood arm’d by his side to justify the wrong,And he himself in the head of his bold troop,Spite of his lordship, and his colonelship,Or the judge’s favor, I will make him renderA bloody and a strict account, and force him,By marrying thee, to cure thy wounded honor!I have said it.

Overreach: How! I forsake thee!

Do I wear a sword for fashion? or is this arm

Shrunk up or wither’d? Does there live a man

Of that large list I have encounter’d with

Can truly say I e’er gave inch of ground

Not purchas’d with his blood that did oppose me?

Forsake thee when the thing is done! He dares not.

Give me but proof he has enjoy’d thy person,

Though all his captains, echoes to his will,

Stood arm’d by his side to justify the wrong,

And he himself in the head of his bold troop,

Spite of his lordship, and his colonelship,

Or the judge’s favor, I will make him render

A bloody and a strict account, and force him,

By marrying thee, to cure thy wounded honor!

I have said it.

As late as the eighteenth century, in Italy, phallic amulets, in the form of the fascinum itself and the obscene digital gesture called in Frenchla figue, were in common use. They were worn by children as protective periapts. Chapels too were decorated with wax images of phalli, dedicated by devout women worshippers.

An esoteric club existed in England in the eighteenth century that was associated with the British Navy. It was calledThe Very Ancient and Very Powerful Order of Beggars Benison and Merryland. On the seal of this Society, among other and naval designs, was a phallic symbol. The intent of the Society is still obscure, especially the relation between naval matters and the phallus.

Amulets in the form of the male mandrake came into vogue in the Middle Ages, especially in Central Europe, forapotropaic and amatory purposes. These charms were associated with incantations and magic formulas and recitatives.

The phallus or fascinum, too, especially in France, was used, as a meaningful protective agent, on buildings and even on churches.

Phallic and other genital forms were also used for cakes and breads: and are still so used, especially in Germany and France.

In the Middle Ages Priapus assumed Christian characteristics and in time was even endowed with sanctity, although he still retained his functional properties. In many cities of Southern France, for instance, Saint Foutin was virtually a transferred Priapus. He aided sterile women and renewed the amatory vigor of men. Images of genitalia were included among the sacrificial objects dedicated to this saint.

In medieval France a certain Saint Greluchon was a cryptic Priapus, venerated among the members of the saintly canon. When women made supplication to this saint, they scraped off minute particles from the stone genitalia and compounded these scrapings into an amatory potion, and also as an aid to counteract sterility.

Other saints to whom were attributed the virtues and functions of Priapus were: Saint Guignolet, Saint Regnaud, Saint Gilles.

In Belgium, Priapus became Ters, equally venerated by women. Ters, in Antwerp, was actually a synonym for fascinum.

Among the gods of Northern Europe was Frikko, who may be equated with Priapus, the phallic deity. The Saxons had a similar god, called Frisco, endowed with the same functions. An analogous deity was Frigga, goddess of voluptuousness. Before the worship of this symbolic or actualphallus was the worship of the sun, represented by the phallus as the creator of cosmic and human fecundity.

A German medieval scholar presented for his doctoral thesis a brief monograph on Philtres, their essential characteristics, the dangers involved in their use, the contents, the purpose of their employment. The thesis, in Latin, is entitled De Philtris, and was published in Leipzig in 1661. The author is Johannes Clauder.

Although philtres were frequently used for erotic purposes, the author asserts, the result rarely corresponded to the intention. The reason for this was that the philtre was concocted under evil auspices, without appeal to divine aid and protection. Another reason for the inefficacy of the potions was improper and defective preparation. The result, he declares categorically, was very often madness for the victim, or even death itself.

Some philtres are associated with Satanic and magic practices, and are essentially poisons. Whores and panders resort to such philtres, although some use what might be termed natural remedies.

The best philtre, however, according to Clauder, is love itself. In this regard, he quotes confirmatory statements from the Romans. Seneca the philosopher, in one of his 124 Epistles, advises: I shall show you a love philtre, without medicaments, without herbs, without a witch’s incantations. It is this: If you want to be loved, love. Martial, the Roman epigrammatist, has something similar to say: Marcus, in order to be loved, love.

And Ovid had already advised: Banish every evil, be lovable, in order to be loved.

Paracelsus, the medieval scholar and alchemist, is quoted in relation to the philtre and its content. Or, as Claudersuggests, the amatory inducement may take the form of a magic inscription on a key, or a ring, or a necklace, or an armlet. As for herbs, the Romans preferred the laurel and the olive, in infusions. Vegetable and mineral and organic matter is also in use; perspiration, urine, spittle. But there is a sinister and hazardous element in such practices. Prostitutes in particular, Clauder threatens, use philtres that rob the victim of mind and soul and leave him a shallow husk. So corroborates Paracelsus. There is one potion, however, called Charisia, that may be innocuous. It has not been identified. But possibly the name may have been invented etymologically on the basis of the Greekcharis, which means grace or gratitude: and hence the nomenclature is wishfully proleptic in significance.

With respect to a variety of lustful and amatory circumstances, the Middle Ages were marked by strange social mores, by monstrous obscenities and erotic barbarities. There were practices designed primarily to preserve chastity and marital and domestic purity, but they actually resulted in greater indecencies than the circumstances that induced these inventive prophylaxes. There was, first of all, the girdle of chastity, a mechanical device to prevent indiscriminate and unlawful lustful consummations in the absence of the husband. The putative inventor of the device was Francesco da Carrara, Provost of Padua, who belongs in the latter part of the fourteenth century. He himself, it was said, met with a miserable death, being strangled on the scaffold for his many cruelties, in 1405, by order of the Senate of Venice.

There was, too, the Congress, a kind of judicial body that determined marital questions, quarrels, incompatibility, by viewing the two participantsin actu sexuali.

Men and women taken in adultery were compelled to march through the public streets naked, sometimes mounted on an ass, for centuries the bestial symbol of lust.

There was the libidinousius primae noctis, thedroit decuisse, exercised by the lord of the manor, and on occasion by monks and prelates, in the case of a newly wedded couple.

In France, in the city of Toulouse, there was a notorious brothel called The Great Abbey. There were, dispersed through France, many such pseudo-abbeys, the madame of which, in each case, was called Abbess. Such terms and such practices, of course, heightened the lewd obscenity. There was a similar type of dissolute haven that had an infamous reputation in England.

This perversion, in which devout elements are linked with the extremes of lust, to heighten the amatory impulse, is described in abundant and salacious detail in the novels of the Marquis de Sade and in other instances of erotic literature.

Prostitution reached such a social importance, and the practitioners acquired such influence in various directions, that, in Paris, a kind of trade union was formed, to which the practicing prostitutes prescribed. They established their own procedures, their working hours, and similar regulations.

At many royal banquets, public entertainments, and processional ceremonials, in Italy and in France, prostitutes were prominent participants, some half-naked, often entirely so.

There were, of course, fulminations against such and similar indecencies, but without much immediate or effective results. Preachers thundered, to no avail, against the erotic provocations to adultery and fornication engendered by the sight of women who, by the subtlety of their dress, exposed various parts of their person. There was public debauchery. There were genesiac performances in the presence of the children in a household. There were poems and tales, called fabliaux, that, reflecting the mores of the age, dealt with nothing but cuckoldry and fornication, adultery, sodomy, bestiality, and all the multiple varieties of physiological perversions.

Furthermore, houses, manors, large estates were decorated with tapestries, paintings, sculpture, all depicting the greatest obscenities. Even churches and chapels and abbeys contained scenes, figures, statues of the utmost lewdness in posture, presentation, and implication.

Among the barbarities of the medieval centuries, many performances, processions, and rites contained an amazing mingling of ecclesiastical elements and dissolute blasphemies and libertinage: just as the Greek satyr plays and the comedies of fifth century Athens were composites of functional representations by human actors of the libidinous and irreverent actions of the deities themselves.

The medieval scene contained secular and monastic lubricity, and processions and rites in which the performers, under the guise of nuns and prelates, presented shameless and unspeakable obscenities. In addition, flagellation was inflicted on penitents. In Germany, France, England, and Italy, all ranks, of all ages, underwent phallic castigation as an act of devotion.

In Girolamo Folengo’sMaccaronea, published in 1519, there is mention of manuals that provide magic instruction and prescriptions favorable in inducing or diverting erotic urges:

He opens the manuals, or reads all that are open:

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