Ouids Banquet of Sence A Coronet for his Mistresse Philosophie, and his amorous Zodiacke. With a translation of a Latine coppie, written by a Fryer, Anno Dom. 1400 [by George Chapman] |
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 | Ouids Banquet of Sence |  |
The amorous contention of Phillis and Flora, translated out of a Latine coppie, Written by a Fryer, Anno. 1400.
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In flowrie season of the yeere,And when the Firmament was cleere,
When Tellus Herbals painted were
With issue of disparant cheere:
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When th' Vsher to the Morne did rise,And driue the darknes from the skyes,
Sleepe gaue their visuall liberties,
To Phillis and to Floras eyes.
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To walke these Ladies liked best,(For sleepe reiects the wounded brest,)
Who ioyntly to a Meade addrest
Theyr sportance with the place to feast.
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Thus made they amorous excesse,Both Virgins, and both Princesses:
Fayre Phillis wore a liberall tresse,
But Flora, hers in curls did dresse.
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Nor in their ornamentall grace,Nor in behauiour were they base,
Their yeeres and mindes in equall place,
Did youth and his effects embrace.
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A little yet vnlike they proue,And somewhat hostilely they stroue,
A Clarke did Floras humor moue,
But Phillis likt a Souldiours loue.
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For stature and fresh beauties flowrs,There grew no difference in theyr dowrs:
All things were free to both theyr powrs
Without, and in, theyr courtlie Bowrs.
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One vowe thy made religiously,And were of one societie:
And onely was theyr imparie
The forme of eythers fantasie.
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Now did a gentle timely gale,A little whisper through the Dale,
Where was a place of festiuall,
With verdant grasse adorned all:
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And in that Meade-proude-making grasse,A Riuer like to liquid glasse
Did with such soundfull murmure passe,
That with the same it wanton was.
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Hard by this Brooke, a Pine had seate,With goodly furniture complete,
To make the place in state more great,
And lessen the inflaming heate.
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Which was with leaues so beautifiedAnd spred his brest so thick and wide,
That all the Sunnes estranged pride
Sustaind repulse on euery side.
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Queene Phillis by the Foords did sit,But Flora farre remou'd from it,
The place in all things sweet was fit,
Where th' erbage did their seates admit.
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Thus while they opposite were setAnd could not theyr effects forget,
Loues arrowes and theyr bosoms met,
And both theyr harts did passion-fret.
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Loue, close and inward shrowds his fires,And in faint words, firme sighes expires,
Pale tinctures change theyr cheekes attires,
But modest shame entombes their ires.
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Phillis dyd Flora sighing take,And Flora dyd requitall make:
So both together part the stake,
Till forth the wound and sicknes brake.
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In this chang'd speech they long time stayd,The processe all on loue they layd,
Loue in theyr harts theyr lookes bewraid:
At last, in laughter, Phillis sayd:
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Braue Souldier, Paris, my harts seisureIn fight, or in his peacefull leysure:
The Souldiers life, is lifes chiefe treasure,
Most worth the Loue-Queenes houshold plesure.
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While shee her war-friend did prefer,Flora lookt coy, and laught at her,
And did this aduerse speech auer;
Thou might'st haue said, I loue a Begger.
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But what doth AlcibiadesMy Loue: past all in worths excesse:
Whom Nature doth with all gyfts blesse?
O onely Clarks liues, happines.
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This hard speech, Phillis hardly takes,And thus shee Floras patience crakes:
Thou lou'st a Man, pure loue forsakes,
That God, his godlesse belly makes.
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Rise wretch from this grose exstasie,A Clarke sole Epicure thinke I:
No elegance can beautifie
A shapelesse lumpe of gluttony.
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His hart, sweet Cupids Tents reiectsThat onely meate and drinke affects:
O Flora, all mens intelects
Know Souldiers vowes shun those respects.
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Meere helps for neede his minde suffiseth,Dull sleepe and surfets he despiseth:
Loues Trumpe his temples exerciseth,
Courage and loue, his life compriseth.
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Who with like band our loues combineth?Euen natures law thereat repineth,
My Loue, in conquests Palm-wreaths shineth,
Thine feast deforms, mine fight refineth.
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Flora her modest face enrosed,VVhose second smile, more faire disclosed:
At length, with moouing voyce shee losed
VVhat Art in her stord brest reposed.
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Phillis, thy fill of speech thou hast,Thy wit with pointed wings is grast,
Yet vrgest not a truth so vast
That Hemlocks, Lillies haue surpast.
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Ease-louing Clarks thou holdst for deere,Seruants to sleepe and belly cheere:
So Enuy, honor would enphere
But giue me eare, Ile giue thee answere.
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So much inioyes this loue of mine,He nere enuies, or hirs, or thine,
Household-stuffe, honny, oyle, corne, wine,
Coyne, Iewels, plate, serue his designe.
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Such pleasing store haue Clarks by-lyingAs none can faine their dignifying:
There, Loue claps his glad wings in flying,
Loue euer firme, Loue neuer dying.
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Loues stings in him are still sustained,Yet is my Loue nor pynde nor pained,
Ioy hath no part in him restrained
To whom his loue beares thoughts vnfained.
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Pallid and leane, is thy elected,Poore, scarce with clothes, or skinne, contected.
His sinewes weake, his breast dyiected,
For nothing causde, makes nought effected.
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Approching neede is loues meere hell,Souldiers want gifts to woo loues well:
But Clarks giue much, and still heapes swell,
Theyr rents and ritches so excell.
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Right well thou knowst (Phillis replyde)What in both arts, and liues abide,
Likely, and clenly thou hast lyde:
But thus our difference is not tryde.
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When Holy-day the whole world cheeres,A Clarke a solemne countnance beares,
His crowne is shauen, blacke weedes he weares,
And lookes as he would still shed teares.
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None is so poore of sence or eyneTo whom a Souldier doth not shine,
At ease, like spriteles beasts, liues thine,
Helms and barbd horse do weare out raine.
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Myne, lowe with Arms makes for-towers lye,And when on foote, he fight doth trye
While his fayre Squire his horse holdes by
Mine thinks on me, and then they dye.
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He turns, (fight past, and foes inchased)And lookes on me with helme vnlaced,
Lifts his strong lyms, and brest straite-graced
And sayes, kisse-blesse me, ô bart-placed.
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Flora her wrath in pants did spyeAnd many a Dart at her let flye,
Thou canst not make with heauen-reacht cry
A Cammell pierce a needles eye.
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False goes for true, for honny gall,To make a Clarke, a Souldiers thrall;
Doth loue to Souldiers courage call?
No, but the neede they toyle withall.
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Good Phillis, would thy loue were wise,No more the truth to contrarise;
Hunger, and thirst, bow Souldiers thyes,
In which deaths path, and Plutos lyes.
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Sharp is the wasting bane of war,The lot is hard, and straineth far,
The life in stooping doubts doth iar
To get such things as needfull are.
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Knewst thou the guise, thou wouldst not sayShau'n hayre shamde Clarks, or black array,
Worne higher honors to display,
And that all states they ouer-sway.
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All things should to my Clarke encline,Whose croune sustaines th' imperiall signe,
Hee rules, and payes such friends as thine,
And Laye, must stoope to men diuine.
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Thou sayst, that sloth a Clarke disguiseth,Who (I confesse) base works despiseth,
But when from cares his free minde riseth,
Heauens course and Natures hee compriseth.
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Mine Purple decks, thine Maile bedighteth,Thine liues in warre, mine peace delighteth,
Olde acts of Princes he reciteth,
All of his friends, thinks, seekes, writeth.
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What Venus can, or Loues-wingd Lord,First knowes my Clarke, and brings me word,
Musick in cares doth mine afford,
Thine liues by rapine and the sword.
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Heere speech and strife had both theyr ending,Phillis askt iudgment, all suspending,
Much stirre they made, yet ceast contending,
And sought a Iudge in homewards wending.
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With countnances that equall beene,With equall maiestie beseene,
With equall voyce, and equall spleene
These Ladyes warrd vpon the greene.
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Phillis, a white robe beautifide,Flora, wore one of two hews dyde,
Phillis vpon a Mule did ride,
And Flora backt a horse of pride.
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The Mule was that which beeing create,Neptune did feede and subiugate:
Which after fayre Adonis fate,
Hee Venus sent to cheere her state.
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This, shee, the Queene of Iberine,(Phillis fayre Mother did resigne
Since shee was giuen to works diuine,
Whence Phillis had the Mule in fine.
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Who of the trappings asks and BitThe Mule, (though siluer) champing it,
Know, all things were so richly fit,
As Neptunes honor might admit.
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Then Phillis, no decorum wanted,But rich and beautious, all eyes danted,
Nor Floras vertue lesse enchanted,
Who on a welthy Palfrey vanted.
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Tamde with his raines, wun heauen for lightnes,Exceeding faire, and full of witenes:
His breast Art deckt with diuers brightnes
For Ieat black mixt, with Swans pure whitenes.
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Young and in daintie shape digested,His lookes with pride, not rage inuested:
His maine thin hayrd, his neck high-crested,
Small-eare, short head, and burly brested.
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His broad back stoopt to this Clarks-loued,Which with his pressure nought was moued,
Straite leggd, large thighd, and hollow houed,
All Natures skill in him was proued.
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An Iuorie seate on him had place,A hoope of gold did it embrace
Grauen: and the poictrell did enchace
A stone, that starre-like gaue it grace.
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Inscription there allurde the eyeWith many a wondrous misterie
Of auncient things, made noueltie
That neuer man did yet descry.
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The God of Rhetoricks nuptiall BowreAdornd with euery heauenly powre,
The contract, and the mariage howre
And all the most vnmeasurd dowre.
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No place was there that figurde nought,That could through all the worke be sought,
But more excesse of meruailes wrought
Then might inceede a humane thought.
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The skill of Mulciber aloneEngrau'd that admirable throne,
Who looking stedfastly thereon,
Scarce thought his hand such Art had shone.
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The trappings wrought he not with ease,But all his paine employd to please,
And left (to goe in hand with these)
The Targe of great Aciacides.
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A styrrop for her feete to presse,And bridle-bosses he did adresse,
And added mines, in worths excesse
Of his sweet Spouses golden tresse.
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Thus on theyr famous Caualrie,These Prince-borne Damzels seemd to flye
Theyr soft yong cheeke-balls to the eye,
Are of the fresh vermilion Dye.
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So Lillies out of Scarlet pere,So Roses bloomde in Lady Vere,
So shoote two wanton starrs yfere
In the eternall-burning Sphere.
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The Chyld-gods gracefull ParadiseThey ioyntly purpose to inuise,
And louely emulations rise
In note of one anothers guise.
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Phillis to Flora laughter led,And Flora Phillis answered:
Phillis, a Merlyn managed,
A Sparhawke, Flora carried.
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In little time, these Ladyes foundA Groue with euery pleasure crownd,
At whose sweet entrie did resound
A Forde, that flowrd that holy ground.
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From thence the sweet-breathd winds conuayOdors from euery Mirtle spray
And other flowers: to whose aray
A hundred Harps, and Timbrels play.
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All pleasures, studie can inuentThe Dames eares instantly present,
Voyces in all sorts different
The foure parts, and the Diapent.
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To tunes that from those voices flyeWith admirable harmonie,
The Tymbrell, Harpe, and Psalterie
Reioyce in rapting symphonie.
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There did the Vials voice abounde,In Musicke Angelike profound,
There did the Phife dispreden round,
His voyce in many a variant sound.
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All Birds with tunefull bosoms sing,The Black-bird makes the woods to ring,
The Thrush, the Iaye, and shee in Spring,
Rues the past rape of Thraces King.
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Theyr sweet notes to the Musick plying,Then all the different flowrs descrying,
The Odors in aboundance flying,
Prou'd it the Bowre of Loue soft-lying.
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The Virgins some-what entred heere,And sprinckled with a little feare,
Theyr harts before that held Loue deere,
In Cupids flames encreased were.
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And while each winged ForresterTheyr proper rumors did prefer,
Each Virgins minde made waite on her
Applauses apt and singuler.
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Deathles were hee could there repose;Each path his spicie Odor stroes
Of Mirrh, and Synamon there groes,
And of our blessed Ladyes Rose.
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Each tree hath there his seuerall blisse,In fruits that neuer season misse:
Men may conceiue how sweet Loue is,
By that celestiall Court of his.
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The dauncing companies they seeOf young men, and of maydens free,
Whose bodies were as bright in blee,
As starrs illustrate bodies bee.
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In which so meruailous a guiseOf vnexpected nouelties,
These Virgins bosoms through theyr eyes,
Are danted with a quicke surprise.
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Who stay theyr royall Steeds out-right,And almost from theyr seats alight,
Forgetting theyr endeuours quite
With that proude rumors sweet affright.
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But when sad Philomen, did straineHer rapefull-ruing breast againe,
These Damzels hearing her complaine,
Are re'inflamd in euery vaine.
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About the center of the springA sacred place is where they sing
And vse theyr supreame worshipping,
Of loues mere-darting fiery King
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There many a two-shapt companieOf Faunes, Nimphs, Satyres, meete and ply
The Timbrell and the Psalterie
Before Loues sacred maiestie.
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There beare they Goblets, big with wine,And Coronets of flowers combine,
There Nimphs, and Faunes demy-diuine,
Doth Bacchus teach to foote it fine.
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Who keepe true measure with their feeteThat to the instruments doe fleete,
But old Silenus playes not sweete
In consort, but indents the streete.
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The spring sleepe did his temples lodAs on a long-eard Asse he rod,
Laughters excesse to see him nod
Dissolu'd the bosome of the God.
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Fresh cups he euer calles vponIn sounds of imperfection
With age and Bacchus ouergon,
They stop his voyces Organon.
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Amongst this gamesome Crew is seene,The issue of the Cyprian Queene,
Whose head and shoulders feathered beene,
And as the starres his countnance sheene.
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In his left hand his Bow hee bare,And by his side his Quiuer ware:
In power hee sits past all compare,
And with his flames the world doth dare.
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A Scepter in his hand he held,With Chloris natiue flowrs, vntild,
And Nectars deathlesse odors stild
From his bright locks the Sun did guild.
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The triple Graces there assist,Sustaining with their brests commist
And knees that Tellus bosome kist
The Challice of this Amorist.
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These Vergins now approched neere,And worshipped, exempt from feare,
Loues God, who was enuirond there
With youth, that honord stiles did beare.
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Theyr ioy is super excellentTo see a Court so confluent,
Whom Cupid seeing; theyr intent,
He doth with greeting interuent.
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He asks the cause for which they came:They confidently tell the same.
And he giues prayse to either Dame
That durst so great a war proclame.
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To both he spake to make some pauseVntill theyr honorable cause
Profoundly weighd in euery clause,
Might be expland with all applause.
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He was a God, which well they know,Rehersall needs it not bestow,
They lite, and rest, and plainly show
Where loue striues loue will maister growe
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Loue, Lawes, and Iudges hath in fee,Nature, and Vse his Iudges be
To whom his whole Courts censures flee
Since past, and things to come they see.
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These do the hart of iustice trieAnd show the Courts seueritie,
In iudgment, and strong customs eye
The Clarke is first for venerie.
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Gainst which the Virgines, nothing stroueSince loues high voyce did it approue,
So both to theyr abods remoue,
But, as at first, rest firme in loue.
Explicit Rhithmus Phillidis et Floræ.
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