University of Virginia Library

8. THE SEVENTH QUESTION,
PROPOSED BY GALEON

A CLEAR sun beam piercing through amongst the green leaves did strike upon the aforesaid fountain and did rebound the light thereof upon the fair face of the adorned queen, who was thereby apparelled with that color whereof the heavens make show whenas both the children of Latona (from us hidden) with their stars only give us light. And besides the splendour it brought to her face it did so lighten the place as among the fresh shade it yielded a marvelous lustre to the whole company. Further, what time the reflected rays did extend even to that place where the laurel crown on her head on the one side and the golden tresses on the other did determine it so intermingled there among with twinings not artificial as at the first sight one would have said that there had issued forth among the green leaves a clear flame of burning fire, which did spread in such sort as the auburn hairs were easily seen to the standers-about.

Galeon that was peradventure sooner or better awares of this marvelous sight than any of the rest, (being set in circle over against the queen, divided only with the water) did very intentively behold the same almost as though he cared for nothing else. So that he moved not his mouth to the question that was now come to his turn.

To whom the queen therefor (having now both kept silence a good space, as eke contented the witty gentlewoman) thus said: "The only desire peradventure of the thing which you behold stays you, tell what is the occasion that holds you thus appalled, as in following the order of the rest you speak not? It is only (as we believe) the gazing at our head as if you had never seen the same before. Tell us first, and after as the others have propounded, even so propound you."

At this sudden voice Galeon lifted up his mind replete with sweet thoughts, somewhat coming to himself, at what time he is wont to do, that through a sudden fear does break his golden sleep, and thus said:

"Most noble and renowned queen, whose worthiness it should be impossible for me to declare, my mind was so wrapt in gracious thoughts (whenas I did so firmly look at your head) as in beholding the bright ray streaming into the fresh fountain and rebounding upon your face, methought there issued forth of the water a little sprite so gentle and gracious to see unto as he plucked my mind back to behold that which he did and perceiving peradventure my eyes altogether insufficient to behold so great a joy, he mounted by the clear ray into your eyes and there for a good space made marvelous mirth, adorning the same with a new clearness.

"And after mounting more high I saw how he ascended by this light (leaving his footsteps in your eyes) upon your crown, whereas he together with the ray kindled (as it seemed unto me) a new flame, such a one as was of yore seen by Tanaquil, to appear to Servius Tullius a little boy while he slept, and so went about your crown, leaping from sprig to sprig like a little amorous bird that singing does visit many leaves, moving your heart with sundry gestures,

sometimes wrapping and hiding himself therein, being more merry every time he came forth thereof, and therewith (as it seemed unto me) so jocund in himself as nothing more, and that singing or with a sweet voice, he uttered these words:

"'Of the third rolling sky, the benign babe divine

I am enamoured so, to nest in these two eyne,

That doubtless die I should, were I of mortal rout:

From twig to twig I twine, to feed this my delight,

These golden Tresses whirling in and out:

My self, inflaming my self, right

So as with flame I shew th' effect, the potent might,

Of my darts divine, piercing where I go,

Each one wounding, that with sweet sight,

Doth gaze her in the eyes, whereas each hour low,

If such her pleasure be, I there descend adown,

For of my kingdoms the queen is of great renown.'

"And herewith he said much more, going about as at what time you called me, and you had no sooner spoken but that he suddenly retired into your eyes, the which sparkling like unto the morning star, gave a new light that made all the place to shine. You have now heard with what joy new thoughts have stayed me for a time."

Philocopo and the rest marvelled not a little hereat and turned their eyes towards their queen saw that which to hear tell would have seemed to them impossible. And she that was attired with humility listened to the words that were truly reported of her and abode with a stable countenance, making no answer at all. And therefor Galeon speaking in this wise, followed with his question.

"Most gracious queen, I desire to know whether a man

ought to be enamoured for his delight or no? And to demand this many things move me, both seen, heard and held through the sundry opinions of many."

The queen beheld Galeon a good while in the face and afterwards, after a certain sigh, thus made answer: "It is convenient we speak against that which with desire we seek to follow. And truly that which you in asking do propound in doubt, ought to be manifest to you. In answering you therefor, there shall be kept the begun order. And he whose subjects we are pardon us the words that we, as constrained through force of judgment shall (more sooner than willing) say against his divine majesty, lest thereby his indignation do fall upon us. And you that likewise as well as we are his subject, with a bold mind give ear unto them, neither do you for all that change your purpose at all.

"And to the end that so much the better, and with a more apparent intendment our words may be received, we will somewhat digress from our matter, turning again thereunto as briefly as possible we may, and thus we say:

"Love is of three sorts, through which three all other things are loved, some through the virtue of one and some through the power of another, according as is the thing loved and likewise the lover. The first of the which three is called honest love. This is the good, upright and loyal love the which of all persons ought to be received. This the high and first creator holds linked to his creatures, and them he ties therewith unto him. Through this the heavens, the world, realms, provinces and cities do remain in their state. Through this we do merit to be eternal possessors of the celestial kingdom, and without this is lost all that we have in power of well-doing.

"The second is called love for delight. And this is he, whose subjects we are. This is our god; him we do worship,

him we do pray unto, in him do we trust, that he may be our contentment and that he may fully bring our desire to pass. Of this is put the question, whereunto we shall duly answer.

"The third is love for utility. Of this love the world is replenished more than of any of the other things. This is coupled with fortune; while she tarries he likewise abides but if they part he is then the waster of many goods. And to speak unreasonably, he ought to be deemed rather hate than love.

"Now as touching the propounded question, we need to speak neither of the first nor of the last. We will speak of the second, that is, of love for delight, to whom truly no person that desires to lead a virtuous life ought to submit himself, because he is the depriver of honours, the bringer of troubles, the revealer of vices, the copious giver of vain cares and the worthy occupier of the liberty of others; a thing above all things to be held most dear. What is he then regarding his own wealth (being wise) that will not flee such a government? Let him that may live free, following those things that do every way increase his liberty, and let vicious governors govern vicious vassals."

"I did not think," said Galeon then, "to give occasion to these my words to the lessening of this our disport, nor to disquiet the regiment of our lord love, neither yet to trouble the minds of any others; but did rather imagine (you defining it according to the intent of me and many others) that you might thereby confirm those that are his subjects with a valiant mind, and invite those which are not, with a greedy appetite. But I see that your intent is all contrary unto mine, because you with your words do show to be three sorts of love, of the which three the first and the last I consent they be as you say. But the second, which answers to my demand, you say it is much to be fled, as I hold

opinion, it is (as the increaser of virtue) to be followed of him that desires a glorious end, as I believe to make apparent unto you by this that follows.

"This love, of whom we reason (as it may be manifest to all the world, because we prove it) does work this property in human hearts: that after that it has disposed the mind to a thing which pleases, it spoils the same of all pride and of all fierceness, making them humble in each doing, as it is manifest unto us by Mars, whom we find that in loving Venus became of a fierce and sharp duke in battle a most humble lover. It makes the greedy and covetous liberal and courteous. Medea, the most careful hider of her art, after she felt his claims, liberally yielded herself, her honour and her arts to Jason. Who makes men more diligent to high attempts than he? And what he can do behold by Paris and Menelaus. Who furthers forward the angry fires more than does he? He shows us how oftentimes the anger of Achilles was quieted through the sweet prayer of Polyxena. He above all others makes men courageous and strong. Neither know I what greater example may be given us than that of Perseus, who for Andromache did make a marvelous proof of his virtuous force. He decks all them that are by him apparelled with excellent qualities, with ornate talk, with magnificence and with pleasantness.

"He I say bestows upon all his subjects fineness and gentleness. Oh how many are the good things which proceed from him? Who moved Virgil? Who Ovid? Who the other poets to leave of themselves eternal fame and those their holy verses, the which (if he had not been) should never have come to our ears, but he? What shall we say further of his virtues? But that he was able to give such a sweetness to Orpheus' harp, as after that he had called to that sound all the woods, standers-about, and made the running streams

to stay, and to come into his presence in mild peace the fierce lions together with the faint-hearted harts, and all other beasts. He made likewise the infernal furies quiet and gave rest and sweetness to the troubled souls, and after all this the sound was of such Virtue as he attained to have again his lost wife.

"Then is he not the chaser away of honour as you say, neither the giver of unfitting troubles, nor the provoker of vices, nor the disposer of vain cares, nor the unworthy user of the liberty of others. So that everyone of whom he makes no account and is not as yet his servant ought with all their wit and diligence to endeavour and to occupy themselves in the attaining the favour of such a lord, and to become his subject, since through him he becomes virtuous. That which pleases the gods and men of greatest strength ought likewise to please us. Let such a lord therefor be loved, served and live always in our minds."

"Greatly deceived you your opinion," said the queen, "and it is no marvel, because as far as we understand you are so far enamoured as none the like, and without doubt the judgment of the enamoured is merely false, because as they have lost the sight of the eyes of their mind, so have they banished reason as their utter enemy. And for this cause it shall be convenient that we against our will speak of love, the which grieves us, since we be his subjects. But yet to pluck you from your error, we shall turn our silence to a true report, and will, therefor, that you know this: that this love is nothing else than unreasonable will sprung of a passion entered the heart through a wanton pleasure that is opened unto the eyes, nourished with idleness, by the memory and thoughts of foolish minds. And many times in how much it multiplies, so much it takes away the intent of him in whom it abides from things

necessary, and disposes the same unto things unprofitable.

"But because that you through good example giving do endeavour yourself to show, that all goodness and all virtue do proceed from him, we shall proceed to the disproofs of your proofs. It is no part of humility unjustly to bring unto a man's self that which belongs to another, but rather an arrogancy and an unfitting presumption. The which thing Mars (whom you make through love to become humble) assuredly used in taking away from Vulcan, Venus, his most lawful wife. And without doubt this humility that appears in the face of lovers does not proceed of a benign heart but takes root from guile and deceit, neither makes this love the courteous liberal but when as such abundance as you say to have been in Medea, does abound in the heart and does deprive the same of the sight of the mind, and most foolishly is become prodigal of things heretofore duly esteemed dear; and not giving the same with measure but unprofitably casting them away, believing to please, and displeases. Medea, nothing wise of her prodigality, in short time repented very much without utility and knew that if she had modestly used those her dear gifts she should not have come to so vile an end.

"And, that soliciting that purchases or works hurt to the solicitors, as it seemed to us, ought not any ways to be sought for, for much better is it to stand idle than work harm, although that neither the one nor the other is to be praised. Paris was a solicitor to his own destruction, if he beheld the end of his soliciting. Menelaus was become diligent, not for love but to recover his honour lost, as each discreet person ought to do.

"Neither yet is this love a mean to mitigate anger, but the benignity of mind, the brunt being past that induces it

makes it to become nothing and remits the offence against whom it was angry. And yet lovers and discreet persons were wont at the prayers of the person loved, or of some friend, to forgive offences, to shew themselves courteous of that which cost them nothing, and to make the cravers thereof beholden unto them. And in this sort Achilles many times shewed himself to expell from him this congealed anger.

"Likewise it seems that this makes men courageous and worthy, but thereof I can shew you the contrary. Who was a man of greater valour than Hercules? And yet being enamoured he became vile and forgetful of his force, so that he did spin thread with the women of Iole. Assuredly in things wherein occurs no danger a most hardy people are the enamoured, and wherein danger happens they shew themselves in appearance hardy and put themselves forward; neither does love, but little wit, allure them so to do, to the end they may after have glory in the sight of their loves. Although it happens seldom because they doubt so much the losing the person loved that they are rather contented to be held vile and of little courage than to give themselves to peril.

"And yet we doubt not but this love reposed all sweetness in Orpheus' harp. We agree that it is true that you have shewed, that truly in general love loads the tongues of his subjects with such a sweetness and with so many enticements as they many times would thereby make the stones turn upside down, so that to entice is not only the property of wavering and inconstant men but of vile men. How shall we say, that such a lord ought to be followed, through the good property of the follower? Assuredly he (in whom he abides) makes wise and profitable counsels to be despised. For it was evil with the Trojans that those of Cassandra were not heard of Paris. He makes likewise his subjects to

forget and despise their good fame, the which ought to remain to us all on earth as an eternal heir of our memory. And how much these aforesaid did condemn the same Aegisthus may serve for an example, although Scylla wrought no less hurt than Pasiphae.

"Is not he the occasion that does break the sacred bonds of the promised pure faith? Yea truly, what had Ariadne done to Duke Theseus whereby contaminating the matrimonial bands and giving himself and his promised faith to the winds, he should abandon his poor one among the desert rocks? A little pleasure in gazing in the eyes of Phaedra was occasion to bring about so much evil and such requittall for the received honour. In him also is found no law, and that it is true may be seen by the doings of Tereus, who having received Philomena from her pitiful father and carnally known her, made no stay to contaminate the most holy laws matrimonially contracted between him and Procne the sister of Philomena. This also calling and causing himself to be called a god, occupys the reasons of the gods. Who could ever fully with words shew the iniquity of him?

"He (to speak briefly) leads them that follow him to all evils; and if by chance his followers do any virtuous act (which happens very seldom) with a vicious beginning they begin it, desiring thereby to come very quickly into the desired end of their loathesome wills. The which may be rather said vices, than virtues, forsomuch as that is not to be heeded only which man does but with what mind it is done, and so according to the will of the worker to repute the same vicious or virtuous, because that never of an evil root sprang a good tree nor from an evil tree good fruit.

"This love then is lewd and naught, and if he be naught he is to be fled. And who that flees things evil of consequence follows the good, and so is both good and virtuous. The

beginning of this love is none other thing than fear, the sequel is sin and the end is grief and misery. It ought then to be fled and to be reproved and to fear to have him in you because he is violent, neither knows he is any of his doings to keep measure and is altogether devoid of reason. He is without all doubt the destroyer of the mind; the shame, anguish, passion, grief and plaint of the same; never contents that the heart of whom that lodges him without bitterness. Who will then pray that he is to be followed, but fools?

"Truly if it were lawful we would willingly live without him. But of such a harm we are too late awares, and therefor it is convenient for us, since we are caught in his nets, to follow his life until what time as that light which guided Aeneas out of the dark ways, fleeing the perilous fires may appear to us and guide us to his pleasures."