his being chang'd into somwhat that might be usefull to his Mistress, I think he hath
learn'd it of Bellean, whom I shall make speak so much English.
O that I were a Looking glass, that I
Might all her Beauties in my self descry!
Or that I were a Smock which she might wear,
Or yet a Wash-ball her white hands to clear;
Or the Sweet-powder which perfumes the air,
Or th'envious Vail which makes her seem more fair;
Or th' Neck-lace which her skin cannot outvy,
Or but the Pattin of my Deity!
He that considers his farewels to his friends upon his Metamorphosis, and hath
read Ovid, may judge whether were the madder of the two. But that which he says
of his hat and cloaths, is such an abuse to all hath been said of these matters, that
nothing can be added: For either what he says must be true, or else when the Gods
were minded to metamorphose any, they must bid them put off their cloaths first,
or should do it for them; which, what an absurdity it is, I leave any man to
judge.
Nay, such was the blindness of the Ancients, that they believ'd the Trees of Do∣dona
spake: but we are to believe there never spake any Tree in this world, unless
it were such a one as Lysis, who tels us why Astrologers and Wizards cannot foresee
what shall befall themselves.
As for Clarimond's subtilty to make him take some sustenance, 'tis admirable.
But for the exercises and recreations of the Nymphs and rural Divinities, I might
produce whole Odes out of Des Portes and Ronsard, to acquaint you what they were;
but take upon my credit, they are such as our Shepherd meets with. For their names,
it may be 'twill not be ungratefull to rip up so much ancient sottishness. They had
Dryads, whom I take to be Nymphs of Forrests; Hamadryads were such men as
were chang'd into Trees; the Nayads were the Nymphs that presided over the
Waters, and were such as had been chang'd into Fountains; the Napaeae are the
Nymphs of the Flowers, the Oreades of the Mountains, and the Nereides of the
Sea.
I do not tell you what part of Brie Lysis was in, nor where the River Morin
begins; 'tis an humour of Ronsard's, to make a long comment on every proper
name, which I will not imitate.
As for the Fable of Morin, I maintain it to be much more ingenious then any
thing of Ovid's, or any other Poet.
Those things which we bring in under the name of Histories, are Fables. Among
the Greeks, the word Fable was restrain'd to those relations that concerned the
Gods; History, to the affairs of men: But because a Fable signifies only a narra∣tion,
and that what they said of their Gods was false, it is come to pass that a Fable
signifies that which is false.
As for the Stories of Synopa and Lucida, and their Metamorphoses, they are in∣genious
and probable: whereas the Poets can only tells us, that to be metamor∣phos'd
into Water, there was no other invention then to weep away, as Ovid says
of Biblis. But where Lysis takes away that contrariety of being chang'd into water,
and yet retaining the form of a humane body, which must be compos'd of watery
vapours, he shews nothing escapes him. He had read somewhere what the Magi∣cians
say of the apparition of Spirits, viz. that the Terrestrial spirits assume bodies
of the vapours of the earth, and the Aquatick of those of the water.