The extravagant shepherd, the anti-romance, or, The history of the shepherd Lysis translated out of French.

THE Translator to the Reader.

THere is nothing in the world of so nice and ticklish a nature as Poetry, a thing which consists all in extremes, and like a Melon is either all gold or dirt. 'Tis that which if it pro∣ceed from a regular and a great Mind, not only ravishes and astonishes the present, but establishes it self an Empire in the future time. But as it happens in the life of man, that Vices are infinitely more numerous then Vertues, so it hap∣pens in Poetry (which is the Representation of the Life of man) that the offences of it are innumerable, the excellencies very rare and few. For it being a chymical extraction of all that the action of man can present, or the mind of man think, and requiring not only great happiness of Thought, but also a noble restraint of Judgment, over and above some fury or enthusiasm, which may strike life into all the rest; it hath been a thing so inaccessibly seated, that he observ'd very well that said, The number of Poets truly so called have not been as many as the Ages they lived in. Whereas, on the other side, the delight which tickles younger minds, puts them also on emulation; and the motions of the imagination being swift and easie, and commonly the weakest minds most fruitfull, in regard they refuse nothing, hath been that which hath begot into the world huge numbers of little and impertinent Poets, who have spawn'd forth things, which though they were crooked and deformed in themselves, yet so blind hath the people been, that they have found esteem, which after some small time hath turn'd to Reverence and Authority. So that even some spirits of a better mould have been seduc'd to the same opinion, and expected no small glory, if they could but arrive at a good imitation: A humour so generally unfortunate, that unless it be Virgil (and yet some great men have not been wanting to dispute it) there is none that I know of, but hath multiplied the faults of his predecessor. For aiming ••ither immediately to please, by descending to put sottish lownesses as lay level to the people, they have left behind them, as great matters, some very pittifull and ri∣diculous fooleries, or at least things so common and so mean, that they might have been said by any man on this side an Ideot. Others that have bid at more magni∣ficence, consulting rather with their own dark and narrow imaginations then with the passions and actions of men, instead of representing noble and generous images of Life, have straid into the greater Grotesques and madnesses imaginable. Hence Ho••er, who though I cannot think the eyes of his Body blind, yet consulting with those 〈◊〉〈◊〉 ones of his Mind, or taking upon trust the Old-wives tales of his time, hath left us so odd an account both of Divinity and Mankind, that I profess, to me is one of the greatest wonders that I have, how through so many serious Ages his reputation hath continued in that strength and youth, were it not that I consider

that the Generality of mankinde are wholly led away with their first thoughts, and are guided by Authority and Tradition, rather then satisfied with the scrutiny of their own reason; and for that of painting him vomiting, and the others licking it up, as the humor is nasty enough, so had it been as false, had not that great di∣sease of imitation so pestered Poetry since she was first known among men, and her own dazling greatness made men willing to look upon her by reflection; besides that, there is a kinde of laziness in the mindes of most men, that make them sit down with things formerly thought on by others, and never to look after any en∣largements or discoveries of their own. And as this hath extreamly pestered Poetry, so hath it been fatal even to Philosophy, which professes a severe inquest of Truth, which certainly should enlarge to greater variety and extent of thought, then a business intended only for pleasure and all capacities, since we see how few heads of Philosophy there have been, and how many followers; and what an infinite number hath follow'd Aristotle, for so many centuries together, in respect of those very few exalted and heroical spirits, who have disdain'd the fetters of Tradition and Acquiescence, and generally broke loose, and discovered New Worlds of Know∣ledge.

Others there have been, who willing out of what had been left by others, to melt down what they thought fitting into their own works, that have not been much more lucky then the former, but only disguis'd foolery from one shape to an∣other; or else grave and serious things into things very ridiculous. Thus Ovid by bringing Hieroglyphical learning into literal Fables, hath amass'd together a sort of the oddest and most childish whimses that ever were. Thus Ari••••o making bold with the Legend, hath taken a good many actions, intended there for actions of Vertue, Chastity and Devotion, and transform'd them into Amorous or Marshal Extrava∣gancies. Nay, and thus many men not weighing discreetly the differences of times, persons and places, which they have had to represent, have fallen into errors very misbecoming. The Indecorum of Homers gods, the fault in Virgils Chronology, Tasso making Christians speak like Heathens, Spencers confusion, and different choice of names, are things never to be forgiven.

Nay, even that Poetry which comes to the City, and which seems rather to look upon the reprehension of Vice, then the encouragement and representation of Ver∣tue, as it hath not wanted its several indecorums; so hath it been several times so unfortunate as to teach that which it would deter men from. The common Rogueries and cheats presented in Plays, I believe have rather taught wickedness, then made it odious, since even the worst of men want the Theory of it, which that furnishes, and the Satyrists, which pretend to be the severest enemies of all vice, it is to be feared have the most taught it. There is no greater Morality in any Book I know, then in Juvenales, yet in repeating the vices of the times, he is forc'd unto such obscoenity, that he hath registred vices ugly above the common conceit of humani∣ty, and such as this age, or at least this clime hath not wickedness enough to pra∣ctise; nay things so transcendently bad he doth not forbear to mention, that even Scaliger hath adjudged him not fit for Christian ears: Not but in all these Books somewhat considerable is scattered up and down, but the mischief is, that the ge∣nerous and noble parts are so outnumbred by the light, flat, and impertinent, that they hold no proportion at all. But as the mind of man easily receives the worst impressions, but is very difficulty labour'd into vertue; so among things of this nature, finding things so unwholsome, and that so commonly, it very easily swal∣lows them, and neglects the other. But among all Books that ever were thought on, those of Knight-Errantry and Shepherdry have been so excellently trivial and naughty, that it would amuse a good judgement to consider into what strange and ••ast absurdities some imaginations have straggl'd? what odde and needless impossi∣bilities, what ill preservation of Character? what impropriety of actions, the same actions and method perpetually repeated, though in a new dress. The Knight con∣stantly killing the Gyant, or it may be whole Squadrons; the Damosel certainly to be relieved just upon the point of ravishing, a little childe carried away out of his

cradle, after some twenty years discovered to be the Son of some great Prince; a Girl after seven years wandring and cohabiting, and being stole, confirm'd to be a Virgin, either by a Panterb, Fire, or a Fountain: and lastly all ending in marrriage, and that all of a day, and in the same place; where to make up the number, some body must be fresh discovered, some suddenly change their affections, and others rise as it were from the dead.

These are the noble entertainments of Books of this kinde, which how profita∣ble they are, you may judge; how pernicious, 'tis easily seen, if they meet but with an intentive Melancholy, and a spirit apt to be overborn by such follies. Such a one was our LYSIS, who is here presented, one that thought their Sottises, examples of life, and those other impertinent circumstances which they bring, pro∣ducible into present practise. And therefore by imitating them, he hath amass;d together a number of the most considerable follies that ever were seen; such a one hath our Author made him, and that very justly, since all the Fooleries of all Men and Books of this nature, he hath arraign'd and convicted in this one Person, and this one Book, with a design, not only judicious enough, but also profitably plea∣sant. For while he brings on the stage their fooleries, though with better judgement and nobler invention then ever they were before, he brings them withal so habited, that it will not be easie for any sober minde to be further enamour'd of them. Be∣sides that, considering how pleasant such kinde of trash is, and what heads and hands it entertains, it must needs be acknowledg'd a courtesie to bring any thing that may scourge and banish it out of estimation. But because our Author treads cross to such a multitude, and is so over-voyc'd; and for that the curious and judicious may upon the first thoughts misconceive of some passages, and the ignorant draw them into some absurdities, I shall for their sakes take the pains, out of what him∣self hath more largely said, and what I shall think fit to adde, to give this account for him in his vindication.

To insist on all particulars, were to make one book upon another; and to be im∣portunate at least to those, who in this fruitful age of Poets and Romances, must needs be acquainted wherein consist the flowers and ornaments of those excellent works, and would too much discover the nakedness of those mighty Champions of the Pe••, who when they have done all they can, are as unprofitable in the Commonwealth, as so many Vermin in a Warren. And yet they think it an injury, if they are not call'd Wits, as if it were as proper for the people to speak of them with the attri∣butes of Wit, Ingenuity and Learnedness, as they do by that of Worship to a Justice of Peace, and expect that adoration and reverence which was anciently paid to Orators and Philosophers. But since there are withal in the world a many excellent men, who make a Recreation, and not a profession of Writing, a more particular censure will be more becoming; and since the quarrel I am engag'd as to the other, is with their works, and not with their persons, I shall forbear to bring them into further contempt, and not envy them the acclamations of the besotted populacie, since I perceive they are so obstinate, as to be more taken with the extravagancies of those men, then with any thing relative to the publike good, or the conduct of humane life.

The first thing I shall note, is, the transportation of our Shepherd, while he contemplates those excellent Reliques he had gather'd of his Mistresses. This, it may be, may seem ridiculous, and such a stupidity as could not fall into the minde of man, however transported by his own imaginations. If I produce as ridiculous in the more serious and admired Authors, shall it be taken for good payment? Lopa de Vega in his Pilgrim, brings Pamphilius and Nisa into Bedlam (their extra∣vagancies having been such, that they were taken for mad) where Nisa findes no presents for her Pamphilius, but that which the floor afforded, dust, dirt, straws, and the like, wherewith yet he embroidered his clothes, as if they had been pre∣cious stones or feathers. Were they not worthily disposed where they were? if this be not as extravagant as our Lysis, I know not what is. The Author of the History of Lysander and Calista, hath as good stories; alas, Lovers put another value

on things then other men; and that Knight in Astraea, who falling in love with a Lady whom he had detain'd in chains (being disguis'd in Mans cloaths) pass'd his time afterward in kissing and courting the chains, and wearing them about his neck, never putting them off but when he went abroad, I think is one may well shake hands with Lysis.

That he thinks the Stars living creatures, is not so strange a Philosophy, as that of those who maintain they feed on the vapours of the earth and the sea. If you will not believe him, believe Ronsard in his hymns, who says, they feed in the Plains of Heaven all night, and in the morning the Day-star (who is the Keeper) brings them together, tels them over, and drives them for all day into the shade.

As for Adrians Relation, 'tis natural, and such as becomes a man of his quality, who is a dull soft-headed Citizen, not much acquainted with Romances; and the Books he quotes are such as he understands, that is, such as children go to school withall. And for his name, it becomes him better then to call him Lucidorus, or P••lemarchus; names very fit, are they not, for a Tradesman?

As for Lysis's demanding of Verses of the Country-Shepherd, he that knows any thing of Romances, knows how familiar it is there to have Shepherds answer one another in Verses, and the Authors make whom they please excellent extem∣porary Poets. As for his description of his Mistresses beauty, he is not the only man hath given such extravagant power to the eyes of a Beauty. Ask La Roque:

Since 'tis decreed that fire shall surprise This world, it must be that of your fair Eyes.

a prophaner expression by much then that of Lysis.

And now he comes to the Dialogue with the Eccho: Which because it hath been a generall Ornament in all Love-stories and Books of Shepherdry, and is with∣all such a gross impertinence, our Remark on it shall be so much the larger. The Pastorals of Julietta are pester'd with them, though far-fetch'd: Nay, the witty Erasmus hath not in this been very fortunate; otherwise why should the Eccho answer in Greek, when she was spoken to in Latine? 'Tis as if a man should ask her somwhat in English, and she should answer in Welsh or Irish. But to forgive that, when a man hath spoken ten or twelve lines, how can she answer all in one word? But of all the Composers of Eccho's that ever were, a Gentleman of our own Country, and an Author, hath been so fortunate, that he hath brought two or three hundred into the compass of one sheet of paper, and his Conceits are withall incomprehensible: I have heard some say of them, that had they been to find out so many, they might have worn out ten Dictionaries to find out the rimes. But what our Author says in defence of himself is, that all the wonder in his was, that it was Lysis's good fortune to light on things, that Anselme could either answer or rime to with some sense.

But for the discourses of Anselme concerning the Eccho, I may say they are no ordinary invention. I could make long Remarks on the Pantomimes, which were a sort of people of old that counterfeited the cry birds and beasts. Parmeno counterfeited the grunting of a Pig so excellently well, that it became a Proverb: so that when another Actor brought a real Pig under his cloak upon the stage, and made it grunt, yet the people cry'd out, that was not Parmeno's Pig; whereupon he shew'd them the Pig, to convince them Parmeno could do no better. This story, as it well discovers the foolishness and obstinacie of prepossessed minds, so was it a sit example for Anselme, speaking of the Eccho, which they say imitates all voices.

The Eccho which is made of Conduits of congeal'd aire, is an Invention in the Steganography of Beroaldus, but much advanc'd and clear'd up by An∣selme.

Nor is his discourse of the Destinies less admirable. There is an Italian Dia∣logue between Life and Death, speaking as if they were the two Destinies; and that

when one hath perfected the web of a mans life, the other cuts it off. This hath more wit then that of the Ancients.

Nor are Lysis's descriptions of his Mistresses beauty so extravagant, but I can easily match them. A certain poor man had a daughter; yet if her Beauty were truly considered, he might be said to be a very rich man; for in her face he possess'd Dia∣monds, Rubies, Coral and Pearl. This is an Imagination in one of the Nouuelles. But is it not enough to say, Lips are of Coral, and so of the rest, but it must be said they can enrich a body? If this poor man wanted any thing, he must pull out one of his daughters Eyes, or cut off her Lip, and carry it to the Gold∣smiths.

This observation of his Mistresses colour is in Lysis extraordinary, and argues his invention. 'Tis true, the Turks bear a great respect to Green; Mahomet's Turbant was of it, and it is now a prerogative of those only of that race; and if any be to be punished, for some crime, the Turbant is first taken off as sacred. But the reason why Lysis hates the Turks, is, because they know nothing of Romances and a Shepherds life.

That he calls the Kitchin-maid Goddess of the Pottage-pot, it rubs the ancient stu∣pidity, especially that of the Romans, who put their Gods to all the offices and ser∣vices they had to do. They had a Cloacina, which we may call Scavangera, or the Goddess of the Common-shores. There were no less then three Gods about one Cradle; one kept the Child from crying, another rock'd the Cradle, a third look'd to the Womans breasts.

Now we come to the day of Judgment at S. Cloud. The examples of this kind are infinite. When London-Bridge was afire, the Country-people that saw it afar off, thought the world was at an end, and that it began to burn at this great City, where more iniquity had been committed then elswhere. The day of Judgment hath been so often foretold both by Ministers and Astrologers, that many now believe there will not be any at all. A certain rich man in Leicester-shire, upon the reading of an Almanack, bestow'd between his friends and the poor all he had, and came afterwards to beg his bread. Nay, such was the stupidity of Mankind, that even in the first Ages there wanted not Enthusiasts to amuse the people. Every persecuting Emperor was thought to be Antichrist; nay, the Fathers were not much more re∣solute in this point then others. But I have no mind to shew my reading here of that, nor yet to advance the divers opinions have been held of the end of the world.

Montvalerian is a place neer St. Cloud, where live six Hermites. This I tell you, because the Author of Lysander and Calista says, that when their Majesties went to see one of them, who had not been seen in 48 years, he also saw him, and Ly∣sander liv'd with him afterwards in his Cell.

But the people of St. Cloud are beholding to Lysis and his Poets, at least were they not the next morning? If a Lover should say he burn'd in mid-winter, would not a simple man think he were in a feaver? If he should say he were on the rack, and that that Fiend Love fed on his heart, as the Vulture did on that of Prometheus, would not a sober man unacquainted with Poetry think his meaning were that he was damn'd in this life?

The Pastorals of Leon, the River Ezla, and the Shepherd Sirenus have had for their Celebrator George of Montemajor, of which book anon.

Those of Vesper, Lysis contemns, as representing things with too much proba∣bility, as Country-people may love now; but he is for Cyrenus, Celadon, and those other illustrious Shepherds.

As for Lysis's dismission of the Rout, it's an humour clashes not with his extra∣vagance; for mad as he was, he remembred that now being entred into the condition of a Shepherd, he was to live peaceably with all men, and consequently not to be transported so far by passion as to give one blow for another.

And thus much by way of Remark on the first Book, wherein I have been the larger, because I would shew how much more I might have said in justification of

my Author. In the rest I shall confine my self to the most considerable heads: And so I pass to the

Second BOOK.

LYsis's contempt of good Books, shews he esteems all pedantry that is not Romantick; and for his meeting with the Satyre, 'tis an humor any one al∣most of his Authors could have furnish'd him with.

But the chiefest matter of this Book, is that of the Metaphorical Picture, which he had given directions for in the first. The descriptions of Beauty have been such as Lysis mentions, ever since there were any Poets in the world; and it should seem to be their chiefest study and emulation to describe it the more extravagantly, and the more fantastically. But the grand foolery is, that when they have describ'd their Beauties with Suns, Coral, Diamonds, Ivory, &c. they cannot let alone poor inno∣cent women that have but flesh and blood. But as for the Picture, you must needs think it was much more noble when it was in colours, as Anselme had done it: the particulars explain themselves.

In the discourse between Anselmes and Montenor, I shall quote one thing as to the Language. Antitheses and Contrarieties are mighty ornaments; as to say, Love is a pleasure full of sadness; a torment full of delight; a despairing hope, and a hoping despair: I think what Montenor saies is more gentle, If Love be a poison, 'tis a pleasant one; if a disquiet, 'tis desireable; if a death, peaceable; if a prison, there wants only liberty, and misery reigns not there as in others. Is not this better said, then to say that Love is a free prison, and an incarcerated liberty? But these things I shall leave to the observation of the Reader.

'Tis not the sea makes women more or less vertuous or perfect, nor yet more vi∣cious; but to the latter, the perseverance and iteration of mens temptations have contributed much, since it is the knowledge of all things beget the desire of them. All that I have to say, is, that the Poets who idolize them with all the attributes of Divinity, are also those that load them with all the calumny possible. A Poet shall deifie a Tripe-woman if she be his Mistress; but though she be never so handsom, if she be withal disdainful, Bear, Serpent, Viper, Wasps, Fiends, is not language fit to describe her.

As for the humor of the difference between Montenor and Anselme, whereof Lysis is Judge, 'tis ordinary in Love-stories, and 'tis the Ore of the Golden-Age, when the first man met was the Judge of all controversies. All the proceedings in this have very good Authors, but it is not to much purpose to quote them here.

As for Lysis's Serenade, his Letter, and all the circumstances of it, other Lovers have done things of the like nature, and therefore I pass them over. But as for the Letter, I must do him right, it was his own as to the composure; but for the ex∣pressions, his Countrymen Ronsard, Mar••••, and others, could have furnished him with much more extravagant and greater contradictions: but Lysis's complements came ever out of his Common-places; for he bore such a reverence to those good Authors, that he chose rather to deliver himself in their language then in his own. I heard of a Country-Gentleman, that having bought the Academy of Complements, came to court his Mistress, where after he had pass'd his Complement, he wonder∣ed she did not answer him as it was in the Book. The next time he came to London he bought one for her, that so she might be able to continue the Dialogue with him.

As for Lysis, who would light the candle at his Mistresses eyes, 'tis not more then Poetical; all his conceptions about the flyes, the trees growing, &c. betray his read∣ing to him that knows any thing.

As for the burning of his hat, he might easily believe it was his Mistress did it; for besides his acquaintance with the Poets, some Historians have delivered, that fire hath issued out of the heads of divers people, as Luvy saies of Ser. Tulli••s, and Cardan of a friend of his: why might not Lysis think his Mistress could do as much as any of them?

Lysis's dream is nothing extraordinary, and his discourses and actions thereupon speak him not so extravagant as some other Lovers have been; but above all things it is to be observed, that let him do what he can, he still comes short of his Ma∣sters the Poets.

But his calling his Mistress the Beauty of Beauties, is his own, 'tis a little vulgar, yet few consider it expresses not what they intend; and that that expression is only proper in this, The King of Kings; that is to say, a King that governs other Kings, but the beauty of Beauties signifies but a Beauty: So the Romance of Ro∣mances, or the Shepherd of Shepherds; nay, rather it signifies a Beauty that be∣longs to other Beauties, which is contrary to our intention: This is called Gal∣limathias.

The heaviness and weight of Lysis's heart must needs be great, because he is no ordinary Lover.

The considerations of Lysis's departure, and of Charite's, are such as could be wish'd. The sad Tyrcis is he in Astraea, that would love none but his Cleon, though she were dead. Basilias is the celebrated King of the Countess of Pembrokes Ar∣cadia, a Country so happy, that Jupiter is the Protector of it, and the Gods come down and live there familiarly among men. This is he that goes into the desart with his wife and daughters, having learn'd by the Oracle, that a Son in Law of his should take away his Kingdom from him; and is like him that kill'd himself for fear of death.

The Third BOOK

PResents us with that pleasant salley of Lysis at the Play-house, where he took all things for real; his desire to be acquainted with some of his own Profes∣sion might easily transport him so far. And that at the Painters, tells us he was one of those who imagine others can think of nothing but them. But I hasten to the Banquet of the Gods, which takes up the best part of this Book. My Author hath been somewhat large on the several particulars of that relation; which I con∣ceive he hath done not only to shew he hath done these Divinities no injury, nor said any thing of them which some Poet hath not before hinted, but also to acquaint the world, that after the reading of his Banquet, and what he hath said on it, who∣ever shall quote any of these buffl'd Divinities, shall be taken for no wiser then those who sometimes ador'd them, and shall thenceforward forfeit is wit.

There are in the beginning five reasons of the Dew. The Poets had in a manner but one, and that was, that it was the terms of Aurora, yet can they not truly tell us why this Aurora should shed tears thus every day. But they say it was for the death of her son Memnon. What a pittiful Divinity is this, to weep ever since the war of Troy, where this Memnon was kill'd? But who sees not this s••lly shift? If a Prince or Nobleman dye, Aurora must weep as if she were one of his friends, or mourn for him. Clarimonds imaginations are far beyond this, especially the last, where he saies it is that the horses of the Sun shake their mains as they come out of the sea.

Why may not the Sun be thought to make use of a Night-cap, since he wants rest sometimes as much as ever did Hobson the Carrier.

But for Jupiters hearing from his Palace the addresses of men, I refer you to Lu∣qian, who saies that when he had a minde to hear their prayers, he opens certain holes, and listned and when he was weary shut them again.

Juno's avarice, and Pallas's divers professions are such as the Poets have attri∣buted to them. But that Invention of the Gods Linnen is Clarimond's; there was never any Poet could tell us what became of the thread of mens lives. Cupid must needs be treated as a Child, since the Poets say he was hardly able to draw the cur∣tains of his mothers bed when she lay with Mars, which is that made Vulcan so jealous of Mercury, whom the Poets have made a fine example for men to instruct them in cheats and rogueries; and his discourse to Charon is as like that of a crafty Mountebank as can be. But where he is troubled that he cannot find some Gods he was to invite, I cannot omit a fiction of Ariosto's, an Angel, wanting Silence to bring an Army upon some enterprise without noise, went to look for her in those places where it is forbidden to speak, as in Monasteries; but there he finds Discord with her black and gray hair, which seem'd to fight one with another: Her hands were full of Chancery-Bills and Law-writings, and she had about her an Army of Councellors and Sollicitors; she sate also President at a Chapter, when the Monks being on the election of a Prior, divide into such factions, that the Breviaries do mighty execution on the bald pates. What need had this malicious Poet thus to abuse the Monks, who are not all naught, and to scandalize a Religion he had be∣fore defended? But what a simple Angel hath he pitch'd on, that was to seek what he knew not where to find? 'Tis an abuse of those divine Spirits, and him whose Agents they are.

Vulcan was the fittest for the Kitchin, as being always neerest the fire. Nor was Pythagonas less for the sauces, since he was the best acquainted with herbs and fruits. And what is said of him and the other Philosophers, is home to their Tenets.

The Raillerie which follows along is obvious, as that of taking down the Signes by Brontes and Pyragmon, who are Vulcan's Kitchin-boyes; the divers entries of the Gods: That Aesculapius is Physitian; the Gods had need of one ever since Homer affirm'd they might be hurt or sick. The Arms of the Gods, may make us laugh at their Statues.

'Tis Fate makes Terminus eat, that is, what he hath decreed must come to pass, and 'tis he only hath the key of his padlock. Priapus and Venus are well seated to∣gether. But that Jupiter should fall so heartily to the Souls, is not without reason, since some Philosophers have held, that all souls were reunited in the soul of the world, which they held to be Jupiter. But as the Gods live only on souls and idaa's so have I seen a Banquet of Poets, and their food was the vowels in a Verse which are cut off and not pronounc'd.

The drunkenness of the Gods is to be laid on their score, who have furnish'd them with all other vices.

The scuffle between the Pedees and the Pages about the wing of the soule of a Turkey, is to shew that those souls had the forms of bodies, and are dispers'd into all parts of the body to exercise their functions.

As for the Signs of Heaven, I quarrel not with their names, because I have no∣thing to say to the Astrologers, though they have not the images of those beasts by whose names they call them. But why should our Poets build their fables on them, and so fill Heaven with Adulteries and other crimes? Du Bartas and others, to take away the memory of those villanies, would needs change the fable into a sacred story, saying the Lyon belongs to Sampson, the Ship to Noa••'s Ark, Taurus to S. Luke, and Virgo and Via lactea to the Virgin Mary, &c. but they cannot carry out the humour.

There was no such way to abuse the odd personages which the Poets attribute to the Gods, as that of the latter band of Gods; and we must never more speak any otherwise then abusively of them all, as my Author does.

I know I have omitted divers things which deserve to be taken notice of: For there is not any passage in this Banquet which hath not a secret grace, besides that it contains the whole story of all the ancient fables, and that digested into a natural order. Lucian in his Dialogues may have somwhat of this humour, but he is im∣perfect;

and it was his design to deny the eternal Providence, which is not taken away with the loss of those names he quarrels with.

That's no less subtle attacque to the Fables, of Montenor's, as to the confusion of them. If Phaeton and his Father, as they say, fell into the River Eridan, why do they not tell us how they got out again? But there's no less inconvenience, if we say that that Torch of the Day is fastened to the Chariot of Phoebus; for Ovid says the Chariot was broke all to peeces.

That there is as much morality in ROBERT the Devil, as in the story of Hercules, is certain; for that was a sturdy fellow, and Mythologie hath a great latitude, for a wicked man may be made vertuous. If one man kill another, the meaning is, the victory of the wise man over the passions; and so of the rest.

Natalis Comes hath pester'd us with his Mythologies; and for his Genealogies of the Gods they are so various, that every one hath three or four fathers. Mr. Ross hath gone beyond him, and hath defil'd the Sacred history with the ordure and filth of Heathen fables.

Lysis's descriptions of Beauty, being by him spoken seriously, are an open abuse to the Poets, whose disciple he is. Nor is he less himself, where he proposes that every one should relate his story. And for his discourse with Charite, considering what he is, and what she is, it is very natural. What would a simple Country-Lass say, if a man said she had hurt him, but ask whether she had prick'd him, or scratch'd him? But Lysis had learn'd out of his Romances, that a Lover ought to speak al∣lusively to somwhat his Mistress had said.

Clarimond concludes with that saying; That to be happy, a man must be either King or Fool. Wherein he is in the right. Pleasure is not measur'd by the reality of things, but the imagination of them. There was a Serving-man, who would not live with any Master, but upon condition he might have one hour in the day to do what he pleas'd in his chamber. Having led this life a long time, his Master would needs know how he spent the time. Coming to his chamber-door, he perceiv'd through some chink, his man sate in a chair with a Crown on his head, having be∣fore him on the wall a draught of the Pope and Consistory; there did he make a speech for the Pope, and answer'd it in the name of the Emperor. But the Master discovering himself, the Fool folded up his Picture and went his ways, and was never seen since. Such a one is Lysis, who though he be not stark mad, yet conceives him∣self happier then an Emperor in his Pastoral and amorous imaginations. But he advances in his Extravagances, and finds my Author work for a

Fourth BOOK.

WHerein though in some things he exceed his predecessors, yet in some he shews himself more sober and more rational, as may appear by the discourse about the despair of Lovers, whom he finds in his books to have arriv'd at that madness, as to have hang'd and drown'd themselves. But this you must attribute to his good intervals. Clarimond's discourse, and his replies touch∣ing Poetry, and his own History, (which he is extremely carefull to have come abroad) are not ordinary.

The Golden Ass is a work of Apuleius; the argument of it stollen out of Lucian, only he hath added the fable of Psyche and some old wives tales. All the excuse I can make for this, is, that haply in his time Lucian's works were very rare, and he was in hope they would have been lost, that so no man might discover the cheat; otherwise certainly he would have acknowledg'd his Benefactor.

His explication of Dreams argues his wit and reading: But for what is said of the Muses, and particularly where he says Love stands Sentinel at his bolster, I can∣not but admire it. His Song. I can assure you, was set to a very excellent air, but

very mournful; the dames of Paris sing it to this day in memory of this famous Shepherd.

Lysis's song is follow'd with a notable abuse of the Poets; for they never cele∣brate the kindeness nor the cruelty of their Mistresses, but when some fancy comes into their mindes fit to express those qualities, rhiming it seems is such a rack. Ly∣sander calls Calista in his songs, sometimes Hippolita, sometimes Sylvia, which made the Gentlewoman very jealous of his constancy.

To think a Hermit a Magician, he might haply have had it from Tasso, who in his Jerusalem, makes the Christian Hermits all Magicians, and withal celebrates them for very devout and religious men.

His coming to Hircans wood, and his considerations there, betray a huge read∣ing, but his thoughts running still on magick, was that made him take Hircan for a Magician, and what he sayes to confirm him in that opinion, is founded on what the Poets say of the ancient Sorcereffes.

Armida was a Sorceress that in a minute of an hour, caus'd a great castle to be built, if you believe Tasso.

For his disguising himself like a Maid, and his perswasions that he was really one, and was taken for one, 'tis an humor so thread-bare in all Books of Shepherdry and Love-stories, that I need say more of it; only I shall note, that it is more probable in Lysis; for Hircan caus'd him to be trim'd, a thing those Authours thought not on, but putting on other cloathes, without any other circumstance they are presently what sex they please.

As for what is said of the Nymphs, 'tis to abuse those that are such admirers of Antiquity. If they had gone in Greece as people do now in France, we should have had the Nymphs dress'd after another mode. And for Fables, why may not we in∣vent as good ones as the Ancients? and why should it be thought ridiculous for us to see the Gods dress'd like us, more then the Greeks were to see them habited like them?

The crime this counterfeit Maid is accus'd of at Orontes's, brings upon the stage the many Trials they had, whereby to know whether a maid or wife had done any thing dishonorable: because in History we finde some whose innocency hath been try'd certain ways; as the vestal Turia, that being accus'd of unchastity, carried water in a five from Tiber to her Goddesses Temple, to justifie her innocency; therefore the Poets must invent so many ridiculous Fables for the same effect, as if it were nothing to set God a work on miracles at their pleasure, unless if one, for ex∣ample, be cast into the fire for tryal of his innocency, a Pantarb (which is a certain stone which frees from flames) does the work; as you may see in the story of Chariclea in Heliodorus. But the miracle you must conceive, is to be attributed to certain Magical Characters that were graven on the Stone, a very probable Foolery.

For Lysis's discourse to Charite, let us do the Poets no wrong, he hath it from them. Medusa turn'd all before her into stones, and Anaxarete was the Mistress of that Iphis that hang'd himself at her door. These are hard names, and Charite might take them for abuses.

Some have not thought there was so much grace in Carmelins speeches; but they are to know, that by Common-places, Lysis meant a sort of Pedantick books, where a man may Alphabetically finde somewhat on every thing. And the French Margarites is a book much like the Academy of Complements, only it hath this ex∣cellency withal, that it is good to learn bad French by.

The statue of Memnon, out of which proceeded an harmonious sound, when smitten by the rays of the Sun, goes near to give me a vomit, I can shew a dozen books of good account, that in the Epistles Dedicatory bring in this into compari∣son: but never was it better apply'd then by Lysis, when looking up towards the Sun, it made him sneeze.

For the stone Panthura, I shall note this, That it is a trivial learning to bring comparisons from stones, fishes, herbs, birds, and other as intertain things, which

we must take upon Mr. Pliny's credit. The Jesuits in their harangs to the people entertain them much with these similitudes, whereas a man would think, that it were more convincing, to draw them from somewhat familiar to them. The Author of the Abridgement of Long-studities, was a cheat, and fit to be Carmelins Master.

Fontenay is a true French name, and there have been Lacqueys called Gringalet and Champagn, and why may they not, according to their quality, affront the Callidorus's and the Aristander's of our Romances? The Greeks were not asham'd of their own names as we are, but qnoted them in their: Fables.

Charite is here called a Chambermaid, a word for the City dames, and meaner sort of Gentry, those of any quality have their Woman, or Waiting-Gentlewoman. But the word now a late hath been extended to the former.

Lysis takes it not well to be compar'd to Don-Quixot, for extravagant as he is, he thinks himself wiser then that Knight.

For his Love-letter, which in French is called Poulet, that is a Pullet, he is the first that ever gave the reason of it, and made the best application of it. Ronsard says, that Love is a Bird, that he hath laid Eggs in his bosom, and that when they are hatch'd, they'll prey on his heart, and when they have done flie away, if he do not lay Bird-lime or nets to catch them, &c. But to satisfie those that know not the reason of the Pullet, that expression rise from the folding of the Love-Letter, much like a bird.

The Fable of Hero and Leander is one of the ancientest we have, 'twas a sad thing this poor Lover was forc'd to swim an arm of the sea, almost two mile over, to enjoy his Mistress. I believe it took of some of his courage: if he had had Cla∣rimonds advice, 'tis likely he had not been drown'd.

As for the wayes which Lovers have found out to get their Letters delivered to their Mistresses, though the Romances might have furnish'd Lysis with choice, yet such a pregnant invention hath he, that he addes to all things.

Where he saies the fruits of the earth ought to be common, it seems he is almost perswaded that he hath already reduc'd the Golden-Age, wherein the Poets say, there were no inclosures, and men understood not those two words, Mine and Thine.

If in his swound he would not have Carmelin trouble himself for any water, but make use of his tears, he remembred our unfortunate Prince Edward, who, when his Murtherers had after much hard usage, gotten him to a River side, and were going to fetch some water to shave him, so to disguise him the more; Let alone that cold water, sayes he, here's warm comes out of my eyes. This indeed was a little Romantick: but Lysis's affliction is so much the further from restoring him to his wits, that it heightens his folly: as we shall see in the

Fifth BOOK,

WHere we finde him metamorphos'd, 'Tis the sad fate of things, that are not understood, to lose much of their grace, and that hath happen∣ed to this Book, from those, who being unacquainted with Fables and Metamorphoses, do not finde that Satyre in this, as in other parts. But I cannot omit what I receive from the Poets touching Aurora, who is the forerunner of the Sun: What necessity had the Ancients to imagine that the Sun must be usher'd in by such a Goddess? But then why must she have a Chariot? she had not so far to go, but assoon as she had done her work in heaven in the morning, she might have taken her pleasure with Cephalus on earth. Why do not the Poets clear up these things to us? Virgil sayes in one place, that the Chariot of this Goddess is drawn by four horses, and in another by two; sometimes they are white, sometimes red, but this I'll reconcile, 'tis to be thought she hath horses of all colours in her Stable.

But how learned are all Lysis's considerations of the Metamorphoses? and for

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.

What follows concerning the Violin, and the Nymphs who deny'd Diana the Sweet-meats, all is natural, and their punishment too. For the latter, certainly 'tis as easie for the Gods to make Trees bear fruit preserv'd, as to change men into Trees: And if my Author had said that the Cypress into which the Violin was chang'd, bore Fiddles and Violins ready made, it had been as probable. These stories we are beholding to Clarimond for; who seeing the Greek Poets had invented Me∣tamorphoses for the Fountains and Rivers of their Country, would do the like to the honour of Brie: but the truth is, he is gone far beyond them.

Carmelin's Questions to his Master, give him occasion to clear up the ancient Fables, wherein 'tis wonderfull to see how well he is read.

I know not whether the Gum of the Tree Lysis be well taken; yet 'twas a parti∣cularity could not be omitted: His mind ran then upon Myrrha, and the Sisters of Phaeton, who weep Amber. However it be, the story of the Excrement in B••••clay's Argenis is as bad, upon which too there is an Ode.

At the second rencontre with the Rural Divinities, I note Lysis's abuse of the Gods and Nymphs for offering to run away for fear of mortals. The Ancients might have made that question to those that talk'd of so many Gods, which no man could ever perceive.

Carmelin's speech to the Nymphs is nothing but a sort of contradictions. Ron∣sard and other Poets have thought them mighty ornaments; for Carmelin is one that in this case is no Author, I assure you.

I do not observe Lysis's reading fail him, till I come to the bathing of Carmelin: And I wonder at it; for Ronsard could have taught him what ceremonies were re∣quired to make a Mortal fit for a celestial conversation. He had forgot that the Ancients wash'd themselves before they consulted the Oracle, as also the Victims when they sacrificed; and that Magicians bathe themselves in running-water, be∣fore they fall to their conjurations.

Certainly Lysis must needs be troubled not to find his Tree; yet must he needs play the Tree, till Hircan, with the help of Agrippa, conjur'd him into a Man again The apparition of the Winds hath nothing in it fantastick, compar'd with what the Poets say of them. That Lysis believ'd Hircan more powerfull then the Gods, it shews him to be of the Creed of the Ancients, who believed the Gods were subject to the charms of Magicians; and that when the Moon was ecclips'd, it was some Sorceress had forc'd her from heaven.

Thus have we seen Lysis chang'd into a Tree, and the Tree into Lysis again. We are now to see how he behaves himself in the

Sixth BOOK.

WHich begins with Lysis's moral learning. The pains he takes to find out Carmelin, speaks his good nature. But to arrest the Nymphs that stole this poor fellows hat, Lysis tels him he must have a celestial Ser∣jeant, such as Mercury; and he is in the right: for he is the Apparitor of heaven; 'tis he that carries the souls to the prisons of hell; 'tis he that summons the inferior Deities to appear before Jupiter; and when Venus had once lost her son, 'twas he that cry'd him all over the world. You see Lysis understands the offices of the very Gods.

Carmelin's being out of his lesson, argues he is no great Clark; but Anselme reconciling him and his master, saying that Love who is Master of all Arts, will teach him to do better another time, and to that end quoted a discourse out of a cer∣tain Book. The discourse is somwhat long; yet since I conceive it may be pleasant to some, I shall take the pains to put it down here. 'Tis in the travels of Aristeus and Amaryllis.

Among all that have spoken of the ••nature Love, there is none hath better described it then the divine Plato, who calls it Pandidascala; that is to say, Master of all Arts, for there is no Art nor Science which he teaches not his Schollars. In the first place he teaches them Grammer, and the eight parts of speech, begin∣ning with the nown or name of the beloved, and then the pronown of their good Qualities, which he makes them repeat often. Thence he passes to the Adverbs of the infinite time of their perseverance, and those of the swearing of their fi∣delity. Then he makes them understand the active and passive verbs, acting and suffering all things for the Beloveds sake. Then he teaches them the Par∣ticiple, by which they must divide and part between them the good and the bad, the thorns and the roses, the pleasures and the torments of this life. From thence he proceeds to the Conjunction and conformity of their honest desires, to the vertuous affections of the beloved, which brings in the Preposition, teaching thereby to prefer the pleasure and satisfaction of the beloved, before their own; and lastly, he teaches them the sad and sorrowing Interjections, full of pittiful Alas's; and interrupted by sighs.

When the Lover is become a perfect Grammarian, his Tutor Love 'prefers him to Rhetorick, which helps him to a many eloquent speeches, sometimes in the Demonstrative kinde, remonstrating to his beloved how much he suffers for her sake; sometimes in the Deliberative, resolving rather to dy, then change his affection; sometimes in the Judicial, beseeching his beloved to think him worthy of a reciprocal love.

The Lover having gone through Rhetorick, Love brings him into Logick, at∣tended with her ten Predicaments; that is to say, the substance of his heart, real∣ly converted into that of his beloved; the quantity of his sighings, the quality of his affection, which onght to be pure and innocent; the relation between his soul and his Beloveds; the action of his minde, the passion of his heart, the time of his sufferings, the place of his repose, which is the heart of his beloved; the scituation of his desires, upon the firm rock of Constancy; and lastly, he shews of what colours his habit should be; that is to say, grey and white, to intimate unto him, that he must suffer all things to approve his integrity and his faith. Having gone so far, he teaches him to crack an Argument, but his Syllogisms must for the most part be in Barbara, Ferio and Frisesomorum, enduring all bar∣barous torments, all furious assaults, and all frowning and frosty returns, though it were in the heart of his summer. But at length he must conclude all his Argu∣ments in Celantes, for he must conceal all things.

Logick being attained, he brings him into the eight books of Physicks, shewing him first the three natural Principles; which are, the matter of the Lovers faith, the form of the Beloveds vertues, and the privation of the satisfactions of Love. This done, he advances to the second Book, which treats of the four causes of his passion; the material, which is no other then his own natural inclination; the formal; an enflam'd desire of the thing loved; the efficient, the attractions, fa∣vours and goodness of the Beloved I and the final, her vertue and her honor. Out of this he passes into the third, which treats of the perpetual motion of the Lovers heart, by which it moves, sometimes suddenly to the service of his Be∣loved, sometimes slowly as it were from enjoyment to privation, from joy to sadness, and from rest to labour. This done, he steps into the fourth, where he shews him the infinitum of his sufferings, the concentrick place where his heart ought to be; that is, the Beloved: the vacuum of his sonl exhausted of all plea∣sures, and the time of his affection, which is perpetual. This being dispatch'd, this excellent Doctor leads him into the fifth book, which treats of the generation of his noble and generous thoughts, his chaste intentions, and his honest designs, and the corruption of all his impure desires, and irregular affections. Thence does he bring him to understand the nature of mixt bodies, which are the matter of the sixth book, where he learns what causes the piercing thunder of his complaints, the interlaced clouds of the vapours of his sadness; the blustering winds and tem∣pests

of his sighs, and the plentiful showers and dews of his Tears. Thence he advances to the seventh book, where he findes that the earth is nothing else but his constancy. The water his tears, the ayr his sighs, and the fire his desires; the Moon, his want of Resolution, Mercury his enchanting Remonstrances and Addresses, Venus his milde Disposition, the Sun his Vertue, Mars his Courage, Jupiter his Discretion, Saturn his Judgement; the Firmament his Constancy, the Empyraean Heaven, the Purity of his affection, and the primum mobile his ver∣tuous love. And lastly, he finishes his course of Physicks▪ with the eight Book, where he contemplates the excellency of a soul that's perfectly loved with a noble and consummate affection.

When the Lover is become a good Philosopher, Love instructs him in the Ma∣thematicks: first he shews him Arithmetick, and the four principal parts of it; that is to say, the Addition of present to past sufferings, the Substraction of dis∣honest entertainments, the Division of his complyant minde from it self, and the Multiplication of the pains he takes night and day. Thence he Screws him 〈◊〉〈◊〉 Musick, teaching what an harmonious compliance is expected from him, by the Diapason, which is compos'd of three Notes, whereof the lowest is Cosistancy, the next Patience, and the highest Fidelity. In this musical Love, the rests are very frequent, and very sweet, sharpes there are none at all. When he is Master of Musick, Love shews him the Dimensions of Geometry; that is to say, the profundity of his services and submissions, the height of his imaginations, the breadth of his hopes, and the length of his perseverance. To make him an Astro∣loger requires but little time, shewing him the course of the Sun, in the sphere of his heart; and his Eclipse upon the Horrison of his eyes, whose effects are sad and rusul; and that so much the more, as other malignant constelations, contrary in∣fluences, and cross aspects of the stars shall contribute thereto.

The Mathematicks well understood, he brings the Lover into the study of Phy∣sick, teaching him to let blood, and open the veyns of the heart, and thence to draw the blood through the eyes, and to make a Diet of the ptesence of his beloved, if need be.

From hence he ascends to the Civil Law, and her three general Precepts; and that teaches him to live honestly with his beloved; not to offend her any way, and to bear her all the respect, and render all the services he can.

Being arriv'd to this perfection, he must needs learn Navagation, and embarqu•• himself into the sea of his Tears, being at the mercy of the winds of his sighs, under the conduct of the North-star of his Loyalty. Lastly, he instructs him in the Art Military, shewing him how he must by main force carry the fort of the heart of his Beloved, sometimes with the assistance of the fire of a pricking passion, sometimes by the water of his tears, sometimes by the mines of his sighs, sometimes by the assault of a vehement grief, or at least annoying the besieged place by a patient perseverance; and when it is once Delivered up, he teaches the Lover how to keep it with Modesty, Discretion, Honour and Vertue.

Now do I think I have oblig'd two sorts of people, the judicious, by furnishing them with matter of sport, and the weak with matter of entertainment. Besides that, I am put in hopes that if some young Schollers chance to read this, they will take it for an Encuclopaedia, for it will mightily rub up their memories. But I pray what is there in all this, which a man would not decisively attribute to a Grammarian or a Pedant? yet the Author is very serious in it. There is another book▪ call'd Loves Philosophy, much pestered with the like stuff. But I wonder this man doth not make Love teach his disciples all Trades and Professions, since he is equally Master of them as the other.

But to return to Lysis, who would bring in a new Astrologie, directing all to his Mistress, yet not so pernicious as what the Poets say of theirs. For they say, they are come down from heaven to conquer all the world, and raise themselves Altars;

nay, those conceptions which bring with them the most eminent Atheism and Ido∣latry, are ever the best with them. But for Carmelin, he's not the onely ignorant man that made Almanacks: which makes true what Machiavel says, that as long as there it one that can deceive, there will be one to be deceived.

But Lysis's constant text is the Golden Age: yet whatsoever he says as extrav••∣gant, his Authors the Poets say as much. Ronsard says,

Then shall the Honey from the tall Oaks flow, And Damask-Roses shall on Ashes grow: The R••m, that sturdy Emp'rour of th' Down, Shall march before us in a Scarlet-gown, &c.

What needs this? are not Roses as good, if they grow as they do? But Clari∣mond hath sufficiently ripp'd up these absurdities. But it were enough to confute the Golden Age, to consider the Celebrators of it, the Poets, who of all men the most complain of want; and 'tis they that preach up Community, because they have nothing of their own.

Clarimond with much reason studies the Reformation of Fables, since we must be troubled with them; as for example, that Fable of Cupid, who might better carry a Pistol then Bow and Arrows.

The next thing is the indiscreet curiosity of Lysis, in opening the Box wherein he thought the Eccho was; but his comparing himself to Pandora, Aglaura, and Psyche, is that which brings with it such a mass of fables, that I am weary of re∣peating the absurdities of them.

Lysis's conformities are very remarkable, yet he wants not presidents; for they say that a Lover must ever be sick of his Mistresses disease: and for his Picture being in her blood, it comes from the same forge. His discourse upon the musick made by Carmelin and the other Shepherd, is much like the Corollaries which the Poets have at the end of their Ecclogues, which he says he'll one day make them recit•• ••x tempore.

The rencontre of Philiris and the other Shepherds, is certainly Romantick and Poetick enough. All I have to say, is, that their conceptions are far neater then the Authors they imitate.

Lysis says, Daphne and Syrinx were chang'd one into a Laurel, the other into a Reed, for having slighted the love of the Gods; though some say it was to keep their maidenheads, for the Gods had a greater leachery to maids then married wo∣men. But no Poet hath yet made us understand whether the Metamorphosis were a pleasure or a torment.

Lysis certainly hath a great opinion of himself, since he says that Fame is grown hoarse by celebrating what he hath done already. But he'll still find her more work; and so I pass with him to the

Seventh BOOK.

WHich after other things comes to the Metamorphosis of Parthenie••, which brings Lysis and his Companions into excellent considerations; and among others to that of the Stone which Virgil says Turnus cast as Aenaeas, which was so massie, that twelve men of his time could not lift it. Nor is the humour of the Goats blood that softens the Adamant any better: For those Lovers who threaten to kill themselves, to soften the Adamantine hearts of their Mistresses, consider not that they compare themselves to the most nasty and most ••••inking among the four-footed Beasts.

But I cannot but take notice of Lysis's inventions in the Metamorphosis, and be∣sides his judgment far beyond the Poets; for they never give any reason of their Metamorphoses, it being the most absurd thing in the world to advance things, even in fictions, which defie probability. As for example, Polyphemus being jealous to have seen Acis with Galathea, cast a great piece of a Rock at him, with which he was forc'd into the ground; but his Mistress and the Nymphs chang'd him into a River. Should they not rather have succour'd him? But now I had rather sup∣pose a man chang'd into water by an extraordinary sweat, through some violent exercise or sickness, or by distillation. Yet Carmelin unacquainted with the Poets, cannot swallow that Metamorphosis; for Des Portes would have taught him, that the teares of a Poet are a certain water distill'd from the Roses, Lilies, and other flowers of his Mistresses beauty; his Love is the fire, his Heart the furnace, and his Eye the beak of the Alambick, and his Sighs are the bellows. I think Lysis's proposition to Carmelin is not more extravagant then what this Poet says; only I think fit Carmelin's nose be the beak of the Alambick, that so the water may be preserved for the use of decay'd Ladies.

I hope the Poets will pardon Lysis's course to multiply Carmelin's water. Ocyro was chang'd into a Mare, for presuming to be a Prophetess. This is impertinent enough; for what relation is there between a Prophetess and a Mare? But that the hinder part of her gown should be chang'd into a tail, is yet more: I wonder, if she had had no cloaths on, whether she had been without a tail. Therefore I think Carmelin, simple as he is, more discreet then all the Poets: for where his Master tels him, that when he is chang'd into water, he shall see the Divinities naked, he asks where will be his eyes and other members? Honest Ovid sayes, that Cyana being to relate to Ceres the carrying away of her daughter, could not do it, because being chang'd into water, she had neither tongue nor mouth. And yet in the next fable, Arethusa who had run the same fortune, lifted up her head above her waves, and related all her ancient adventures. This is enough to shew how far the Poets presume upon the ignorance of the people, who must receive what they bring, be it ever so absurd.

As for Lysis's rural Temple, which he would build to Charite, Des Portes will needs build one for his Goddess; where his Eye shall be the Lamp, his Body the Altar, his Sighs his Vows, and he will sing a daily office: provided his Mistress gave him a good fat Parsonage; for this Poet was a benefie'd man. His avarice might be pardoned, but not his idolatry.

I shall pass to Clarimond's reconciliation of the Metamorphoses; and that of the Raven I like above any. In like manner a man may with some probability say, that a Souldier having a head-piece and boots and spurs on, may be chang'd into a Cock. But Ovid troubled not himself with any consideration of probability.

The History of Fontenay hath much conduct and judgment in it. As for the par∣ticulars, I shall not comment on them: It represents a sort of old Romances, which brought Magicians, Sorceresses, and their Miracles on the Stage, but without that probability which Fontenay observes. As for instance, that he lov'd himself, he gives you this reason, that he was of a solitary and melancholick disposition, and 'tis withall natural for such a Complexion to consult Sorceries.

For Lysis's changing his place, to receive the ayr which came from Charite, 'tis neither too amorous, nor too poetick: I shall quote but one authority, and that is Ronsard; who sayes, that being at a great distance from Paris, on a mountain, he suck'd in the ayr that came from that great City where his Mistress was, which did extreamly enliven him.

As for the History of Philiris, the naturalness of it is extraordinay, and the pas∣sion he is in for this last Mistress, after he had neglected so many, keeps within its bounds; he is content to wish a picture of her as she was every year since she was born: far from the extravagance of that Courtier, who to testifie his love to his M••stress, had caus'd his own picture to be drawn, which had in the left side a great rent through doublet, shirt, skin and bones, even to the heart, where he had

caus'd his Mistresses Picture to be drawn. And her playing with Dogs and Lambs is as natural, considering her age, which was not yet capable to understand what love was. For Philters and Amulets, our Romances are so pestered with them, that the Authors think they are not perfect without them.

Where he says, his Mistress shed so many tears as would have made a Channel, that might have born a boat to bring him thither in, 'tis an ordinary Poetical ex∣pression, for they weep Rivers, nay Oceans; it shall suffice to quote him, that said, he shed so many tears as would make a sea, wherein his Mistress should sport her self like a Mermaid.

There are none more ingenious then your Lovers, who whatever they see, apply it to their Mistresses. If they see Roses, they think of their Beauty; if an Oak, it puts them in minde of their stature; bu•• to say, that seeing the Moon, a Mistress should also see her at the same time, and that she should carry intelligence between them, 'tis only Philiris that ever imagin'd it. Pythagoras was a notable fellow, for he made people read in a glass, what was written in the Moon: but alas, the characters were written in blood upon the glass; and thus did he abuse the igno∣rant, and foretold divers things. But there's a better invention in the Adventures of Florida; Two Lovers had gotten two Sun-dials, but instead of the hours of the day, there was an Alphabet about, and the needles of both being touch'd by the same stone, moved both together at a distance, and thus did they hold correspon∣dence. But these Dials coming at last into the hands of the King of Portugal, who giving one of them to a Captain of his that was to go into the Indies, the ship was cast away, and the secret lost.

Another Lover of our own Country, not being able to brook the absence of his Mistress, bought a Map of London, where it seems she liv'd, and with great plea∣sure and satisfaction, view'd that street and quarter of the City where she lived, and so comforted himself.

Clarimond findes fault with these Histories of Fontenay and Philiris, to finde Lysis Discourse. And indeed, he hath some reason to be angry to see the cur∣rent of all Romances stopped, by finding these two married before the end of the Book.

As for Lysis's looking into the eyes of Philiris, to see if there were not some representation of Charite, whom he said he had seen; he remembred him who said, his Mistresses eyes were Suns, and that his were two Chrystal balls, which receiving their rays in their centre, reflected them on his heart, which by that means was burnt np.

The Eighth BOOK

'TIs an ordinary humor in all Romances, that Europeans should be found in Affryca, or Affrycans in Europe, that no man knows how they came thi∣ther, nor how they come by the language, only we are to suppose, these judicious Authors will needs have their Adventurers speak languages as well as St. Paul; for let them come where they will, if the language do them any good, they have it infus'd. But Polidor desirous to reconcile Probability and Romance, tells you his father being a French man, brought him up in the language and fashi∣ons of his Country, even in the Court of Persia.

As for the Lillies, Roses, Fires and precious Stones of a Beauty, Polidor abuses the Poets in their own excellent fancies, yet is not half so extravagant; for whe∣ther is madder, he that says that the attractions of a Mistress can draw Rocks? or he that says only, they may draw a Cart out of the mire? and where Polidor says his Mistresses eyes melted the lead in the windows and the gutters, this is nothing to those eyes that can give us light instead of the Sun, and can restore Summer.

But yet Polidor made only use of a little whites of eggs against this heat, a secret he had learn'd of the great Albertus.

As for his Knives hafted with Remora's teeth, and his Fan of Phoenix feathers; if there be no such things in nature, lets laugh at those that first advanc'd them. The Remora stops a ship in her course; I'll tell you how this came up. A certain boat ran a ground on a bank of sand, being overturn'd, the Mariners found this fish stuck to the keel, and so they believ'd that hindred the boat, and brought it on the sand. As for the Phoenix, the stories of it are so monstrously ridiculous, that out of them I shall only observe the strange sottishness of mans minde, that suffers it self to be carried away by the torrent of tradition, though in things that are in open hostility against all probability. But those that say it is individual, and hath no female, let them consider whether they abuse not God, who for the perpe∣tuation of every species, was content to go the ordinary way of male and female; which he bid multiply.

The History of Meliantes is also as judicially begun; but yet there want not Authors who tell us, that the Persians live much like the French, and that was it made the Author of Lysander and Calista tell us in Suza there is an Exchange, where are fold Gloves, Muffs, Ribans, Hats, Masks; whereas others tell us there's no Bands, nor Masks, nor Hats worn there, nor are they clad there as we are. Meli∣antes says he is also come into France to finde out Lysis, as well as his companions; this is also an imitation of the Romances, where you finde people of the several quarters of the world more strangely brought together, and to less purpose then ours.

Here we have Hircan turn'd Conjurer again, to raise up the Cherry-tree Nymph, whom he raises by Horta, who was the Goddess of the Gardens. As for Lysis's thinking Amaryllis like Lucid••, these resemblances, and the mistakes that arise there∣on, are a great part of our Romances. In the Pastorals of Julietta, Delio, a Knight of Barcelona being gone to the wars, his Mistress Catulla expected him every day; but being at the utmost of despair for him, there comes into the Town a certain German that was very like him. Catulla having heard of it, sends her woman to give him directions how to come to her in the night, which was by the help of a ladder of cord. He, though a stranger, yet perceiving the mistake, would needs trust himself to Fortune; but going at his hour appointed, he meets the Watch, draws on them; and after he had kill'd two, was taken and carried to prison, and the next day condemn'd. Catulla hearing of this, knew there was no way to save him but to beg him, which she did by her maid. This was a notable resemblance, that could not be discovered all the time: But that which put me on this story is, that custom of begging condemn'd persons: 'Twas a priviledge of common whores, who upon promise of amendment of life, had such as were destin'd to the gallows bestow'd on them. One reason of this is, the affinity of the sins of those people. Besides that, it was thought a work of Charity to put together two bad livers, who repenting, might haply bring forth children full of courage, and honest, fit to peo∣ple Colonies: And such were the founders of old Rome, a sort of Vagabonds, High∣waymen, Tories and Bandits, who having made a Troop, came afterwards to give Laws to all the world.

But I come to the famous history of Carmelin, who though an inconsiderable person, yet shall exceed the Romancists. All he saies are fancies and hyperboles. For the littleness of his Master, you must note, that the Poets describing a thing, observe less probability; else what meant he that said, That a little man having gotten up on the back of a Pismire, thought himself upon an Elephant, but on a sudden got a fall from it as high as that of Phaeton. For Taupins changing his name, and thinking to grow bigger with it, Carmelin had read some Romance, where he found a Gyant called Nagibuscantropocara, a name proportionable to his body. There was a certain Roman, who besides the making of his cloathes too big, as Taupin did, would not eat of any small creature, lest it should make him little like what he eat, and that made him love Beef better then Partridge. His sauce was

made of Pompions, but for Pease and beans he could not endure the sight of them. This was a little beyond ours.

Carmelins several conditions are certainly as pleasant as any thing of Lazarillo de Tormes: and his description of the Joyners life and house-keeping, is a true re∣presentation of a Frenchman.

You see how Clarimond begins Lysis's History: I'll tell you how D'audiguier begins that of Lysander; Under the memorable Reign of the great Henry, the re∣doubted father of our invincible Monarch, there flourished in France a yong Gentle∣man, whose heroick vertue is rendred more illustrious by the glory of his vertues, then by the antiquity of his race, &c. Methinks the Epithets here are very cheap, what need a mans valour come in to tell us of his son: but that word Flourishing troubled Lysis most; 'tis so like the Legend, for alas he was afraid that for that word men would have doubled the truth of his History.

Lysis believes Hircan took off the beards of the Gods of the waters; how faithful is his memory! he remembred Hercules, snatch'd a horn from the River Achelous, and that the Satyr Marsias was flead by Apollo, from the soals of his feet to the crown of his head, a sad encounter for a God.

What Philiris saies touching the thoughts of Lysis, and his description of the night, are true Poetick imaginations; his putting personages on the clouds and winds, puts me in minde of a certain petty Romance, wherein there was

The fight of the four Seasons of the year; Summer and Winter were the two Generals. Ge∣neral Summer was discontented, that such a Tyrant as Winter, with a confus'd Army of Winds, Mists, and others, Highlanders, Scythians and Deserteers, should make such spoil on his fine Champion Country, rob his Forrests, and trample his Meadows, and imprison the fairest Flowers in his Garden, and cause himself to fly for refuse to the Antipodes. The Autumn and the Spring took part with the Summer, by the means of Cupid. Venus also sent him the Cyclopes with some Thunderbolts for his Artillery. Ceres, Pomona and Bacchus promis'd to finde him provisions. He drew up his forces in the Vale of Esam; but he was no sooner in the field, but he had intelligence that his brother Autumn was routed the other side the sea. That they had discovered the advance of a Brigade of sharp bluster∣ing Winds, with which a company of Mists came up as resolutely, as if they had been Swissers; after which came up the Canon and Artillery, which was guard∣ed by several Regiments of Frosts, Rains, Hail and Snow, with Scaling Ladders, and Bridges of Ice. That three hours after they discovered a Squadrons of Fogs, all in disorder, and led up by the Amazon Cold, which was follow'd by the main battel of General Winter, who had four Legions of Flakes of Ice had prest the frigid Zone, and all old and grey Travellers, who had provision for five months and odde days; and that these forces had quite routed Autumn. General Sum∣mer was not much troubled at this news, who thought it his best course to joyn battel with his enemy before his forces were refresh'd. While he was thus busie, a Page comes from Spring-Garden, and tells him he had there seen two or three Gentlewomen get green gowns, which made him believe that Winter could not be so near. Whereupon he giving himself over to some little enjoyment. Win∣ter advances with some Troops of Hoar-Frosts, which made Summer retreat in∣to his works: Some days were thus spent in skirmishes to no great advantage of either side; for what the Hoar-frosts did in the morning, Captain Phoebus re∣covered at noon. But Winter brought up all his forces, and took the works, and froze the hearts of the hottest Champions among them. Summer in the mean time rallies, and brings on the rays of Phoebus, which were come to his succor from the high Countrey; but Winter had set a sort of good resolute Fogs all about, who assoon as they perceiv'd the rays, rise up and gave alarm, having let Captain Ayr pass their guards. The signal of the Battel was a Blustering wind on the one side, and on the other Thunder. The Battel being joyn'd, Phoebus would needs succor the Summer, but the Mists being of the other side, came and cover'd both Armies, so that he could not see them. The Duke of November

would needs with a select troop of Fair days reinforce the fight; but the Earl of Shrove-Tuesday came with a drunken desperate crue, and took him off. Sum∣mer seeing himself put to the rout, fought stoutly; but at last was forc'd to flie to the Antipodes, to raise new forces against the next Campagn.

This seems pleasant enough; and there is another fight between the Flesh-days and Fish-days, but it is too long for this place: but for this, I think it is much more ingenious then Homers between the Mice and the Frogs. For what difference could happen between two sorts of Creatures, that had no acquaintance one with another? one living in the water, the other in warm holes in houses. That humor of arraigning Banquet of certain crimes of Drunkenness, Qnarrels and Fornica∣tion, and referring her to the punishment of Famine, was not much better in our old Poets. Clysters and Julips are brought to purge away her noxious hu∣mours.

Now we come to Lysis's unwillingness to take arms: he remembers that Love∣songs, Madrigals and Ecclogues are the ordinary entertainments of Shepherds; but where he says, that he will only contend who shall give the best kisses; he remem∣bers Myrtil in the Faithful Shepherd; as also Ronsard, who in the Temple he in∣tends for his Mistress, will have her statue, close by which shall stand by his, as it were going to kiss her, and that all that are in Love, must come thither once a year upon their feast day; and he that should give the best kiss, whether wet or dry, should have some reward.

But Hircan's Prophesie assures him as to the taking of arms; there are two or three such in the History of Lysander, where I shall leave them.

The Ninth BOOK.

THere is no book but much may be said on it; but since it might be thought repetition, I shall contract. I see nothing incomprehensible in the Enter∣tainment at Orontes's, nor yet in the arrival of the Ambassadors, the Anti∣quities that are ripp'd up; as, the drinking by the Letters of the Mistresses name (which some did till they forgot their own) nor was Carmelin's drunkenness to be omitted, for the truth of the story requir'd it.

Love blinded is again in the Faithful Shepherd, and that in the Arcadia is, to say truth, very difficult to make any thing of.

For Lysis's passing from the Iron to the Golden-Age, without passing through the Silver one, 'tis to shew the excellency of his operations, and withal to tell them, it shall cost them nothing.

Nor is that humor of his, of having a God for Romances less pleasant; but what Cockscombs are these Romans, that attribute Genders and Sexes to their Divinities, and multiply them without any reason.

Lysis his Vniversity is very pleasant; The disputations that were had on his Theses had been printed, had they but assign'd him a Colledge at P••ris.

What Clarim••nd saies of the Golden-Age, must be added to what had been said before. The fruit of Lotos is a thing was never yet seen, nor much heard, but what Homer says of it.

But the design of the Plays is that which is incomparable; as well for the dispo∣sition of the Scene as the Language: To rip up the Fables which they propose to act, were to be too tedious; as for the lights which Carmelin saw, he says nothing which the vulgar opinion confirms not, whether they proceed from natural causes or diabolick, matters not here. In Euphormio you may know somewhat more of them; the Author of that Satyr tells you they call Travellers to them, and that Euphormio, with his friend Percas, going by a river side, saw a man with a great head of hair, and a great Beard, who was seen to the navil, and that he turned

up his buttocks, and clapped himself; which done, he laughed, and went un∣der water again.

As for the Players habits, Black is the colour of Pluto's Kingdom; Jupiters red is the colour of his Thunder; Venus's green is the colour of the Spring, which re∣presents Love; Ceres's yellow is the colour of her harvests. Proserpina's blew is the ordinary colour of maids to be married; and for Cyana and Arethusa, white represents the silver of their streams. But for Cupids being naked, with his Bow and Arrow, as the Poets paint him, there is somewhat to be said against it. When he would shoot at one, what does he with his torch? doth he let it fall to the ground? or does he put it out till he hath done, and then lights it again at the eyes of some Beauty? nor do I see why he should go naked in the cold; and there∣fore I approve Carmelin, who being to represent him, would not for modesty sake. But it may be said the enjoyments of it are naked: be it so.

Venus speaks by Hyperboles, yet not such, but the Poets make them ordinary; for to say, that the beauties of a Mistress are able to make the Gods Idolatrous, is much beyond any thing she saies. The discourses also of Cupid are fit for such a person, as the Poets make him: for his playing at Cockal, since he is a childe, 'tis natural; but pins are more proper for him, for 'tis his design to prick. Nor is Gani∣med's loitering from school absurd, for you must note, Mercury taught the Gods languages. While the Greeks stood, they spoke all Greek, but when the Empire came to the Romans, the Gods were fain to submit to the Latine tongue, otherwise they could not have convers'd with that people, nor answer'd them by their Oracles.

Pluto hath taken the Pedantick stile, which is the most proper for a solitary God as he is; and as this God passing his time with the dead, must needs speak some ex∣traordinary Language; so those here who spend night and day in reading old Au∣thors, and never converse with other men, furnish us with nothing but their Pedan∣try, both in their discourse and Books. For his mangling of the Latine words, he may be easily understood, as being not so ridiculously affected, as that of the schol∣ler in Rabelais; who says he goes to the Lupanar instead of a Bawdy-house, and transfrets the Sequane. But Rabelais needed not have abus'd others in this point, for his own ordinary stile is Pedantick enough.

The Rencontre of Adrian just in this nick of time, must needs be very pleasant; and his bidding the company adieu, and the Waggoner drive on both in a breath, sufficiently speak his quality.

But the next Comedy is much more perfect, as being not interrupted. Zethes and Calais speak the ordinary phrase, as being yong men; but Jason being a Con∣queror, and better at his hands then at this tongue, can speak no other but Galli∣mathias, a kinde of speech hath no name neither among the Greeks nor Latines, as consisting of contradictions, and clinches upon the words, and 'tis only the ex∣ample declares what it is. 'Tis a Language that much pesters the Courtiers; you have enough of it in the Loves of Nerueza, and those of Des Escuteaux, and in Loves Alarms; and though these Books are slighted now, yet were they excellent in their time, and those that are now in vogue, will come to the same fate.

Our Medea is all in Metaphors; a stile proper for a Sorceress; he that compos'd the Travels of Aristeus, was excellent at it. Despair saies he, like a resolute War∣riour, having laid siege to the heart of that Shepherdess with an Army of his suffer∣ings, took in at length that fort of her soul, having at his entrance knock'd down that inflexible courage, cut the throat of his patience, massacr'd his furious resolutions, and precipitated those thoughts, which had escaped the fury of the sword, into a fire perpetually burning with a desire of death. This Author was the only admiration of the Court; but how deservedly—

But to return to our Comedy. Jason desirous to obtain the Golden-Fleece, which was a Book of Chymistry, as some say, though the Fable bears other expositions. But the Poets know not where the Colchos was, for some will have it to be an Island, others a Continent; nay, some say, they knew not by what river the Argo got in∣to

the sea. But that trouble, you will say, Orpheus sav'd them; for he could as well draw after him their ship as other things with his Harp. But I wonder, that being at sea, the Rocks follow'd them not: but it is to be thought they heard him not. When this Musician descended into hell, the Acheron followed him even to the pa∣lace of Pluto, so that the Shades were like to be drown'd in the midst of the fires. 'Twas a brave fellow; for with one touch on the Harp he could draw the fairest Trees from his neighbours garden into his own; and if he chang'd Country, he could make his house follow him: And yet this was the most beggerly Poet that ever was. But I wonder how the Sun and the Stars, being more excellent bodies then the Stones Trees, were not charm'd by his musick. But to pursue the nar∣ration: When the Argonauts were arrived in the Country of King Phineas, Zethes and Calais relieve him against the Harpies. These young men were the sons of Bo∣reas and the fair Orithia, and had the gift of flying. But why the Harpies should hinder King Phineas to eat, I see not; nor yet how this poor King could live so long without meat. But having done their business, the Argonauts pursue their voy∣age; and Medea so favour'd Jason, that she gave him a charm toset the Dragon asleep. What a simple Conquerour is this Jason, that does all things by magick? The Dragon being asleep, 'twas easie to take the Fleece. And his Companions never drew sword till they came to Thessaly. Are not these excellent examples of valour? As for the language of some Actors in this Comedy, it is enough to say it is fanta∣stick as the rest. These two pieces could not be better represented. Carmelin and the Harpies did excellently well, nor did Hircan who playd Orpheus do less. I be∣lieve if any of the Country chanc'd to see them, they must needs think them mad: but they had such a lechery to make sport with Lysis, that they cared not; and therefore being satisfied with this diversion, they find him other adventures in the

Tenth BOOK.

I Cannot but admire Lysis's reading and his judgment in the old Authors. His attaque of the Fable of Thetis is excellent; but his heroick accoutrements be∣tray him again: But that was because he saw some Poets even of his own time so dress'd before their Books. That subtilty of Hircan, to make Lysis believe that the Coach was drawn by horses as long as it was on firm ground, and did not flie till it came to the sea, was not ordinary: but Lysis helps it by his Philo∣sophie.

But what he intends to do in heaven, is beyond all Astrologie, and discovers the Tenets of divers Philosophers, and especially those of the Platonicks concerning Reminiscence; and that was it made Lysis believe there must be an University in heaven for the souls. After he hath spoken of Homer's Tuns of Good and Evil, he falls afresh on the Ideas of the Platonicks, as if they had been things to be seen in heaven. Nor is his holding of solution of continuity in spirits less Philoso∣phical.

The adventure of the Dragon shews how easie it is to deceive him that deceives himself. But for the things that come out of the Dragons belly, they are not so strange as what comes from a Gentleman in the History of Lysander, that vomited images of wax, pieces of Looking-glasses, Pen-knives and Ink-horns.

The Deliverance of Pamphilia must needs be a great honour to Lysis, and such as must make him heroick. But his relation of his adventure is excellent. Because he had seen Birds that could speak at Paris, he thought there might be a Country whence they came, and where they spoke and did all things as we do. But this, and what he says of the Diaphonous people, is but a dream of Lysis; yet not so impertinent as that of Poliphilus, who in one night dreamt a book as big as ours.

As for Lysis's imagination, that being invulnerable, the Gyants could not force

out his soul but through the nose, 'tis an abuse of Mahomet, who in his Alcoran says that Moses having long wandered the desart, found a Tomb, whereof as he was con∣fidering the length and breadth, the Angel of death came to kill him: Moses know∣ing him, How wilt thou get my soul out? says he to him: Not through my mouth, for that hath spoke to God; not through my ears, for those have heard him; not through my eyes, for those have seen him; not by my hands, for those have re∣ceived presents from him; not through my feet, for those carried me into the Mount. The Angel went his way thus baffled: but another time he presented Moses with an Apple of Paradice; which he smelling at, the Angel took him by the nose and drew out his soul, & so dispos'd him into that Sepulchre which could never since be found.

That Lysis will be accoutred according to his Authors, he still discovers his old humour, that makes him believe there's as much truth in Picture as in Poetry.

Clarimond's abusing of those Shepherds that grave their amorous speeches and expostulations on Trees, is not without reason, 'tis such an impertinent and an im∣probable foolery: For they must send notice to their Mistresses to go to that tree, or all's lost; which if they do, they might as well have sent what they writ on the tree some other way.

The history of Anaximander may well go for canonical with Lysis. He had seen in the fables, that Medea had taken Aeson by the throat, and let out all his old blood, and fill'd his body with other, by which means he became young again. Nor want our present Romances these renewings of age. Panurgus had his body mine'd, as if it had been to be put into paste; which done, it was molded anew, and made handsome then before, and they got life into him by blowing into his fundament. Then does he relate stories of the other world. But if there be any wit in things of this nature, 'tis Anaximander claims it. As for the God of Sleep, whom Clarimond quotes, 'tis to keep even with the fables. Some grant this God a palace, some a grot. But to what purpose either; since all that are about him must be asleep, and cannot do this Child of the night any service? And since Ovid says he is ever asleep, how can he go about the earth to sow poppies? That's a task for the God of Vigilance rather then the God of Sleep. Thus shall we never be rid of absurdities.

The instructions which Lysis gives to his Historiographer, are certainly very ex∣cellent: but the new description of his Mistresses Picture is much more. La Roque was a fool to him; for he says only that he is a new kind of Spider, that makes a web whereon Love should work his Mistresses picture, but how he tels us not, whereas Lysis describes his to the least particulars. As for the Copper-piece, you see 'twas all was left of the brazen age. For the gold into which Midas's wine was turn'd, why might not Lysis think it might be made potable again, with the help of the Chymists who have broke their heads so much about it? The white must be made of the same milk which made the via lactea; which though not very white, yet might serve Charite well enough. The flesh-colour taken from the sweat of Bacchus, is a new invention; and so is the red that is borrowed from Autumn. The black is Proserpina's Paint, yet may do well enough for an Eye-brow. The Poets who have made such monsters of the Gods, have made Neptune always with a blue beard. For the marble whereon the Colours were wrought, it must needs be a peece of the first Altar that was erected to those Gods whom Lysis honours so much. Venus's shell was that wherein she arriv'd at Cyprus; and Lada's egg was that out of which Helen, Castor, and Pollux were hatch'd.

That I have not altogether observ'd Lysis's directions for the titles of his Letters and the Histories, is because I would not in such a punctilio transgress the laws of our Romances. But his observation is never the less commendable.

As for him that would dedicate a Romance of Knighthood to Bethlem-Gabor, 'tis a Satyre, he being a most warlike Prince: And where 'tis said he should have a Love-story dedicated to him to teach him to court his Mistresses, Germany and the State of Venice, I may add, that he hath ever been in love with the Ocean, which he enjoys more then those other Mistresses; and that if those old Cuckolds of Venice marry her every year, the Turk commits adultery with her.

As for that Raillery concerning the attribute of Majesty to Kings, besides that it is but of late, and that Court-flattery hath brought it into vogue; considered truly, 'tis ridiculous; for 'tis no more then if a man should sayto one, May it please your soul, your mind, or your memory. But to fight with Custom is folly; since that in Spain, the Vulgar Ceremonies are such, that Lordship is but Civility to a Translator.

'Tis a mighty lechery some men have to do things cross to others, were it but for the beginning of a Book, or the ending of it. But for Lysis's, 'tis done according to his desire, beginning with his entrance into Shepherdry, though he had lov'd Cha∣rite long before.

The Eleventh BOOK.

MY Author had incurr'd the displeasure of some Ladies, for (as they thought it) his indiscretion in advancing the story of Geneura, which you have in the second Book; and 'tis thought they would have been re∣venged on him, had he not here brought on the stage a Man as extravagant and vain in his sex, and that is Alican. But who hath seen France, will acknowledge he hath left a many Apes behind him, and these will leave others: I wish their foole∣ries came not to effeminate us here.

Carmelin's relation of his and his Masters adventures at Amaryllis's, is (consider∣ing his person) very good, and that he is not always of the same opinion as his Master. But where it's said, that, In the mean time Lysis, to whom it is now time to return, rise with much disquiet; 'tis a manner of speaking very frequent in our Ro∣mances, where you find, We leave him where he is; and, See what such a one does. Lysander's History in every page hath it: Let's now return to Calista; We have left Ambrisa at Paris; We have left Lysander in Holland. There's no artifice in this, and 'tis to suppose the Reader of a very weak memory, and betrays the Au∣thors weakness that cannot fasten things more handsomly together.

That Triumph wherein Carmelin represents Bacchus, is like that which the Poets celebrate him for, who say he was the first conquered the Indies: but his greatest glory was, that all his voyage he scorn'd to drink water. But that which Lysis quar∣rels at in this Ceremony, is, that the old customs are not punctually observ'd; which he would not have violated, not only in this, but also in all other things, as his Triumph, &c.

But I cannot but hug that design of his of sending for the Muses. For their num∣ber, you must note there were at first but three, but how they came to be nine I'll tell you. The people of Sicyon desirous to have their Statues to place in Apollo's Temple, employed about it three Statuaries, thinking to choose the three best done: but it happened they were so well, that they knew not whhich to refuse, and so they were all nine consecrated in the Temple of the God of Poetry; and to make the people believe there were really nine, Hesiod and a sort of Poets found them all names. For their chastity, it cannot be much, since they have inspired all the lasc∣vious Poets that ever have been. But that Fable of their Fountain made by a horses hoof, 'tis such an impertinence, as I cannot tell how it hath hitherto been swallow'd; for what vertue can there be in a Beast to make men Poets? It had been more pro∣per to say, that those who drank of that fountain became horses, or rather asses.

As for Lysis's carrying away of his Mistress, 'tis an ordinary Romantick humour. Young Wenches run away and wander forrests and desarts with their Lovers, as if they were brothers and sisters, yet must be thought honest, nay though they fall into the hands of robbers and pyrats. But Lysis would not have Lovers live like Jupiter and Juno. Natalis Comes tels us how Jupiter came to lie with this sister of his the first time: He chang'd himself into a Cuckow, and it being a great showre

of rain, fled into Juno's lap; but she hiding him under her coats, he in the mean time got her with childe, and could not but for shame marry her. 'Tis true, Jupiter might very well be a Cuckow, for he was always in some other birds nest.

But Lysis discovers a most ridiculous humor of the Romances, where you have a silly young girl, that haply was never out of her mothers sight, upon the first of a Lover, become so bold, that she will travel all over the world with him; and in all these travels, there must be those that will infallibly entertain them, as if they had planted their stages beforehand; and if they build Sconces any where, they are excus'd as Princes in distress, who will reward their Benefactors, when they come to their own. Why may they not meet with as good entertainment as Water-Poets?

As for that Aristocle•• which Lysis saies was torn in pieces by her Lovers: This Lass had two Suitors, Straton and Calisthenes; she having chosen Calisthenes, the other seem'd to comply so far, that he was invited to the Wedding: But as Aristi∣clea was sacrificing, he brought a sort of Ruffians to carry her away; at which Calisthenes being alarm'd, laid hold on her. Which Straton seeing, put in too, and between them they so drew, that each of them had both too much and too little of her.

Lysis is somewhat troubled that Hircan and Anselme marry before the end of the Book, and that they are not all married on a day. That marrying all of a day Clarimond needed not so much to have laugh'd at: for your Romantick Shepherds being all Beggars, such a thing might happen, if they came to some good house, where after good drink and victuals, 'twas easie to bring them into the humour, as being such as of whom it might be said, when they caper'd in a dance, that all their worldly wealth was in the Ayr. But for Lysander's History, that treats of persons of Quality, to have all match'd of a day, and that in the Chappel of Bourbon, was a little extravagant. But Romances can do more; they can raise Armies, and conquer Kingdoms in as little time: yet a man may fain a thing so, as not to be openly tax'd for a Lyar.

As for what is done by Lysis at Hiccans Marriage, if any see not the wit of it, 'tis because they are not acquainted with Antiquity, as he was.

As for Adrian's loosing of his hearing at Hircans, 'tis not so strange. I can tell you of one that was perswaded out of his fight. Three Italians were at Cards at an Ordinary at Venice: One having lost all his money, went to bed, with his mouth full of curses and blasphemies, leaving the other two at play: These two having given over play, would needs make some sport with the third, who not∣withstanding the loss of his money was fast asleep. They put out fire and candle, and began to quarrel about the game; one swore 'twas so, the other, 'twas not, making such a noise that the other awoke, and looking up and seeing no candle, thought they had spoke in their sleep, and so laid him down again. But they quar∣relling, and making greater noise then before, he looks up again, and being bet∣ter awake, What, says he, do you play in the dark? In the dark! say one; what are you blinde? do you not see we have two candles? With that, rubbing his eyes, I can see neither you nor the candles, says he. Sure he hath lost his sight, says one; and withal going to the bed side, made as if he were amaz'd. Bring the candle hither, saies he, look, his eyes seem as if there were some film over them: But it may be he does but counterfeit, or imagine himself blinde. With that he swore he saw nothing; and withal calling to minde his cursing and blasphemies over night, he was perswaded God had so punish'd him for it, whereupon he be∣gan to weep. They advis'd him to vow a Pilgrimage to Loretto, which he kneel∣ing on his bed, did, promising her Ladiship two silver eyes, if he recovered his. This done, one of his Companions brought a Candle lighted out of another room, whereupon they laugh at him. He was so astonish'd at it, that he could not so much as speak; nevertheless, his Companions told him, he must accomplish his vows, since he had obtained his desire. Now if a Gamester, one whose wit is

more refin'd then other ordinary men, and an Italian, could be thus perswaded, why not such an Animal as Adrian, whose understanding was of no greater lati∣tude then his profession; for as for what miracles are told him of Hircan and Lysis, his judgement is so strong, that he knows not whether be ought to believe them or not.

The Twelfth BOOK.

HEre we have Lysis relating his adventures to his Cousin, wherein though he have an excellent gift of invention, and applyes things handsomely; yet any action that relates to some old fable, he thinks he may venture on as a thing will be granted him. But that natural and Citizen-like perswasion of Adrians to him thereupon to go to Paris, pleases me extreamly, where he tells him, that there he shall not need fear Monsters, or any thing of that nature.

Here also we have a many casts of Carmelius learning Common-places, Pro∣verbs and Observations, which because they are fitted to Adrians humour, could never have been better bestow'd.

M••liantes to make Adrian believe the condition his Cousin was entred into was the best, descends into the field of his Eloquence, describing the City and the Country life. But Clarimond now intends to dissolve the enchantment, as being weary of abusing so long, one whom they should rather endeavor to convince of his extravagant opinions. However, Lysis intends to make his party good; you see what inventions he can finde to live, though he lost all his estate. He thinks he deserves entertainment as well as those his Authors quote, and I think so too. As for his exhortation to Patience in Adversities, you must note he was well ac∣quainted with Celadon, who upon the disdain of his Mistress, lived a great while on herbs like a beast, though he were not two miles from his own house.

As for Lysis feigning himself dead, I think him wiser then many other Lovers, who have kill'd themselves through the cruelty of their Mistresses. Had not Iphic better have done so, then hang'd himself at her door; or the Basilius in Don Quixot, that pretended to stab himself before his Mistress.

The main design of all Poets is, to celebrate their Mistresses; and that is it made Fontenay say, that Pernella should be more famous then Laura. But why all the Poets compare themselves to Swans, those sweet singing birds I know not; but I believe, that the singing of that bird so melodiously before his death, may be en∣tered among the Vulgar Errors; and he that first advanc'd it, did it upon no cer∣tain ground.

Fontenay's desire to change wives with Adrian, furnishes Lysis with excellent ob∣servation of Antiquity, who knew there had been some Republikes where such a thing had been permitted. Meliantes and Hircan not only imitate but exceed our Romances.

You see how much my Author studies to make all things natural; why may not Adrian, who is a Citizen, be much more jealous and tender of his Pernella, as Menelaus was of Helen.

Lysi's feigned death is very well acted, Carmelin doth also his part; and be∣cause he will not always borrow of his Common-places, I think that about Close∣mourning is his own, if he have not seen it in some Manuscript; but Hircan's jest about one laughing on the wheel, he that knows that in other Countrys Malefactors are broken with an iron bar upon a wheel, sees it.

Then follow some excellent considerations about the burying or burning of dead bodies; wherein though Philiris play the Poet, the Shepherd, and the Heathen altogether, yet seems he to quote somewhat out of Doctor Charon, who says, that the most dishonorable way to mankinde of disposing dead bodies, is that of

burying them; and the most honorable, that of burning them: that the earth is the dregs and ordure of the Elements, the sink of the world, and mother of Cor∣ruption. I cannot conceive the reason why Charron should thus abuse the poor Earth: nor why he should say, we have no parts we ought to be ashamed of, un∣less to shew the inclination he had to assert that Paradox, That women ought to go naked.

The Poets tell us, their Mistresses make them dye, and that they raise them again; and therefore that Lysis should think so, is not so extravagant. Besides, he remem∣bred Aesculapius, rais'd up Hippolitus. Why should not Charite, who is a Sun her self, do as much as that son of Apollo.

Lysis says, That Love led his soul into Hell, wherein he differs from some of his ancient Masters; who affirm'd, that death divided a man into three parts, the Body return'd to earth, the soul went to Heaven, or else was united to that of the Universe, and there went to Hell but the Shade, which what it could consist of, I cannot conceive. Yet those others that say the fouls go to Hell, tell us stories of Shades, enough to discover the contradictions of Poetry: but why a soul should be call'd a Shade, I see not; for being a thing of more worth then the body, and that in its separation it loses nothing, it ought to have a nobler name.

Nor doth the fiction of the Waterman Charon and his fare hold any more wa∣ter. What need had this fellow of any money, in hell, where there is nothing to buy? Pluto needed not this Poll-money, for the earth and all the mines were his; Ceres and the other rural Divinities having no more then they necessarily took up. Of equal absurdity is that of Cerberus, the three-tongu'd Dog. Hath Pluto no other guard then that of a Dog? but it must be thought there needs none in hell, for the Devils need neither Dog nor Cat, since they keep no house, but live like Philosophers.

Then is Lysis brought before the three Judges, and by their order sent to the Elizian fields, where he rips up old Poetry and Fables so exquisitely, that if all Books were lost, we might have all of this nature from him. He saies that the pastimes of the Devils are Cards and Dice. 'Tis true, quarrels, oathes and blasphemy are the ef∣fects of them, and Avarice the Inventor; But the impatience is remarkable: But at what is a Gamester most impatient? Is it for the loss of time in eating or sleeping? is't want of money? is't a years sickness? No; 'tis when the candle is put out in the midst of a game, or when the Die falls down, and cannot be found.

Now comes the famous Musardan on the Stage, that excellent advancer of Love∣stories, and Courtier of the Muses, who is wellcomest of all to Lysis; one that for sport-sake was admitted to some great mens tables.

But Fontenay continuing his follies, give Clarimond occasion, really to endea∣vour Lysis's conviction; for that he had said before, that Lysis ought to be en∣tertain'd in his extravagance, in regard of the Felicity of Fools, 'twas only for a time, and by Paradox. But if we will see the impertinences and absurdities of Fa∣bulous Books and Romances more fully discovered, we must advance to the

Thirteenth BOOK.

THough there need not much be said on these two Orations, the Objections and Answers being so clear; yet to draw things to some conclusion, I shall where my Authour hath been very liberal, contribute some∣what.

The War of Troy is by most acknowledg'd a fiction: and Homer grounded his Poem on some old wives Tales, yet Clarimond says nothing of that, because truth and Poetry travel not far together. But he quarrels at the subject of his Books, which is ill, and that grand fault, of not mentioning the causes of that war; for that he had written any thing before, is but a conjecture; which yet Philiris makes the best

of, when he says, that his subject was well enough known in Greece, and that con∣sequently he might begin where he pleas'd. But as to Homer's Country, which Philiris saies is heaven, and that Poetry is the Language of the Gods, 'tis a little extraordinary, though all Oracles were in verse. For Homers sentences, besides that they are such as it may be were in every mouth in those days, all sects of Phi∣losophy have gotten somewhat out of him; as if he commend Vertue, he is pre∣sently a Stoick, &c. Nor have they been more fortunate, that make him Master of all Arts; or to say better, a Jack of all Trades. For to make him a Ship-Carpenter, 'tis enough that he makes his Vlisses one: To shew he was a good Cook, he made his Hero's turn the spit, and boil the pot, and in Vulcan he is an Armourer: This was an easie way to be of all Trades; but it is to be thought, that Ignorance and Pedantry were the Godfathers that gave him that name. That any Captains and the like should esteem him, as if his works could infuse courage, is as improbable; and yet this is no great commendation; for Amadis hath sharpen'd the courage of some, whose unacquaintance with affairs kept them in ignorance of what was truly military. And for Alexander and Alcibiades, who going into a school, and ask∣ing the Master for Homer's Iliads, gave him a box on the ear, when he told him he had none, 'tis no great credit. Alcibiadas was a rash yong fellow, that affronted all where he came, not sparing the very Images of the Gods, the noses whereof he cut off; besides that, it shews that it was in those days a Book fitter for School∣boys then Souldiers; and indeed it was fit a Schoolmaster should have it, it being their daily-bread; as Hieron said to Xenophanes, complaining of Poverty; That Homer, though while he liv'd, begg'd his bread, yet dead, he maintained ten thou∣sand men. And hence it came, that the Schoolmasters have ever been his greatest celebrators. As for Hector's leaving the Army in a fight, to go and deliver a mes∣sage that was unnecessary, 'twas such an absurdity as Philiris mentions it not. As for the fable of Circe, 'tis justly tax'd: for dawb as you will with Mythologies, Ulysses's lying with a Sorceress, will be a thing of ill example. As for the Beauty of Helen and Penelope, Clarimond says what he ought, and Philiris answers as well; but for the chastity of the latter, and that evasion of the web, 'tis such a poor one, that so many yong Lovers could not but in so many years discover it. But there are that say, that those yong men, all enjoy'd her, and that thence sprang the God Pan, you have the credit of the Poets for the one as well as the other.

Clarimond having spoken of Homer, spends not time on the other Greek Poets, since it was but repetition; and so falls on Virgil the Prince of the Latine Poets. That Dido liv'd not in Aeneas's time, is easie to prove: for his Fables, they are low enough; his Buckler of Aeneas, his golden branch to go to hell with; to finde explications for them, were to no purpose. But Philiris deservedly com∣mends the harmony, weight, and fluency of his verse.

For Ovid and his Metamorphoses, it hath been in divers places shew'd they are not natural, and some modern, have been more fortunate; as for example, A Player being to represent all conditions and persons, having offended Mercury, in not representing him well, was by that God Metamorphos'd into a Looking-glass, that so he might represent things better then he did in his life time. And that other, of a cruel disdainful Mistress, who could not be charm'd by any complaints of her Lover, the Gods to punish the one, and reward the other, chang'd this desperate Lover into a Loadstone, and that ungrateful Mistress into Iron, that so in spight of her teeth she might be drawn by him, whom before she did avoid. To which if we adde the Metamorphoses of Marne, Morin, Synopa, &c. we need say no more.

Orlando Furioso is a book hath less order yet then Ovid, from whom and the other Poets the invention is borrow'd. You must not think Clarimond can quote all the impertinences of any book, especially of this; as where Astolphus rides to heaven upon his Hypogriph, and there meets with St. John the Evangelist, who shews him all the curiosities of the place, having put up his horse in a certain place, where he gave him celestial oats. Yet is the Author among his Countrymen

call'd the Divine Ariosto; and so is Aretin, notwithstanding all his filthiness and impiety.

Tasso is not so confus'd; but his mingling together sacred and prophane things, shews him of that Country where they love vice, and allow impiety. Du Bartus is not much behinde; but it must be thought his design was only to reduce the Scri∣pture into neater terms then it was in: but methinks, being to speak as a Chri∣stian, he might have omitted the Suns coach and horses, and such other Pagan ab∣surdities.

Next comes up Ronsard with his Poems, Sonnets, Elegies, &c. For his Sonnets, they are allusions to the old Greek and Latine Fooleries, or else some traductions out of Italians. But because he is often quoted with his absurdities in the text it self, we shall not say much here, only shake a little his hymn, wherein hee compares Hercules to Jesus Christ, both as to his birth and labours. The three nights that Jupiter made one, when he was to enjoy Alcmena, represent the number of years, which past before the Son of God was born of his mother; That Juno, who sent two great Serpents into Alcides's cradle, is King Herod, who to destroy the childe Jesus, sent his souldiers to kill the children in Bethlehem; That it was thought that those two children were purely humane, the one being thought the son of Joseph, the other of Amphitruo; though Jesus was the son of God, and Hercules the son of Jupiter: That Prometheus unchain'd, is humane nature set at liberty: That Hercules, who ever obeys Euristheus, is the Saviour of the world, who is ever obedient to his Father: That the envious Juno is Satan (for she represents both Herod and the Devil; where∣as Amphitruo and Euristheus doe both represent God the Father) That Hercules puting on the Garment of Iole, is Jesus Christ cloath'd with the humanity of his Church: That Hercules and Atlas who sustain the Heavens, are the Father and the Son who sustain the Vniverse: That Charibdis, which swallowed one of Alcides's Bulls, is Satan, that makes a prey on one of the disciplies of Jesus Christ: And lastly, that Hercules, who is burnt on a mountain, is our Redeemer, who offers himself up a sa∣crifice unto God the Father. O lewd Poet! The Adulteries of Jupiter, and the Incarnation of the Word, are they not fit comparisons? why is not Alcmena the Virgin, and the Angel Gabriel Mercury? But that Alcides, who to satisfie his lust, disguis'd himself, and spun with Iola, should be Jesus Christ, is equally as Impious. I am to note further, that he is such a sworn imitator of Homer, and the Poets his Predecessors, that he omits not their greatest absurdities: for this is but a patern of what might be quoted: for his descriptions and similitudes, they are as tedious as Homers. If a man be to get a little water boild, he tells how he clove the wood to make the fire with, then how he kindled it and blew it, then comes in the flame, that encircles about the Kettle, then the white scummings, then the noise it makes in boiling, and this is your constant entertainment. This Poet would finde a man perpetual Satyre, yet was the most renowned of his time.

But if we catch Poets and Fabulists, we must not let the Mythologists escape, who by their impertinences seek to continue the credit of the former, and would have us swallow down obscure and ambiguous fooleries for Divinity. 'Tis hard but some allusion or other may be found to save the reputation of advancers. Apollo and Neptune build the walls of Troy, saies the Fable; there must be water, says the Mythologist to make the morter, and when the wall is built, the Sun must dry it. If they had put in Minerva too, it had been said that it was to give them instructi∣ons for the Architecture, she being the Goddess of the Liberal Arts: But for Ve∣nus's accompanying Aeneas in his battels in Italy, as also being at those before Troy, and her being hurt there; if you would put all Pedantry to the rack, it can∣not finde any good explication. Those also that shift off the absurdity of Fables by Synonima's, are we not any thing more oblig'd to; as that Helen, Castor and Pollux are engendred of an egg; you must conceive the feat was done in some great Oval pa∣lace Nay, so critical are they, that they find explications for the adulteries and absur∣dities of these pittifull Divinities; and so impudent, as to present us with them as pieces of solid learning. Nay further, some in the defence of fables tell us, that the

Poets had read some parts of the Bible, and grounded them on some stories thereof; as that the Chariot of the Sun, was that of Elijah: but they cannot choose but be impertinent, that excuse impertinence.

As for Romances, there is as much said in the beginning of this Preface concern∣ing their impertinences, and that little entertainment that is in them, that we shall not have much to adde. For Diana of Montemajor, the Pastorals of Julietta, Daph••is and Cloe, and some others, my Author shall make good what is said against them. Nor does our Arcadia escape the quick-sighted Clarimond. Astraea is a book hath gotten great reputation, as coming out with the first fruits of more polished lan∣guage; and that which hath continued it is, that it contains a many stories fitted to the humours of all sorts.

Nor is what this great Antagonist of Romances sayes touching the beginning of the Argenis, so inconsiderable. The Verses are also forc'd in; you find them fre∣quently graven on stones, and any occasion serves to foist in a paper; so that we may think that the Book was rather made for the Verses, then the Verses for the Book.

As for D' Audiguier, the Author of Lysander and Calista, one thing may be said in his excuse, is, that he was rather a man of his sword then his pen, as appears in many of his Epistles; very Gasconically bragging, that he made his Pen with his Sword, to excuse his ill writing. But his mistake was, that having heard that Roman∣ces ought to be full of miraculous adventures, he hath endeavoured to make his the most monstrous he could; by mangling of his adventures, abruptly leaving things undone, and carrying the Reader into another Country, where he had left such a one, whom it was time to look after.

As for those that go into woods, and talk to themselves so loud, that some over∣hear, it is thought a mighty ornament, otherwise so many would not have used it, and that so frequently. The examples are obvious.

As for Amaryllis's interposition; that she should stir so much in a business which concerned the whole sex, for whose entertainment and diversion these excellent works are composed, wants not example, as may appear by that answer of a woman to a certain book written against the sex: That as the Lyon seeing a man painted with his foot on the throat of one of his kind, said, that if Lyons were Painters, they had the same advantage over men: So did women but write books, they would make men as contemptible as they make them, and would make it appear they are the nobler sex. And this was it caused Anselme to give such a cautious judgment, as being unwilling to disoblige any. But as for others, they may censure Romances as they please. But what influence these two Orations had on our excellent Shepherd, appears not yet, nor how this rare personage consummates all his high and famous adventures. But that is the work of the

Fourteenth & last BOOK,

WHere in the first place we have him giving his good word for Carmelin: but when he is demanded how rich he may be, answers very evasively, that he must needs be rich, since he ows nothing. He from whom he had that, was also used to say, (though an ancient Gentleman) that he was young enough when he was in health. But that humour of a Schoolmaster was very plea∣sant, who being upon clapping up of a match with a rich Citizen, and ask'd what means he had, whether it were in lands or ready money, he answered, he had not either, yet he thought himself as rich as any. This went very well, and 'twas thought he had great sums due to him, or that he was upon some project, or that he had found the Philosophers stone. But being still press'd to declare, he told them, that his riches consisted in the saying of one of the Seven wise men, who says, That the only Poor man in the world is the Covetous, and the Rich is the Contented. It

was answered him, that if he had no other estate, 'twere well he went into Greece, and marry some kinswoman of Bias; for in London Maids did not marry with La∣tine, nor yet Greek Ceremonies.

The discourse between the Hermite and the Shepherd is very pleasant, and the graces of it are obvious; the one being a simple devout man, that wore out no other books then Breviaries▪ the other, one poisoned with a pernicious reading, which he was able well enough so to disguise, as that such a one should not perceive it. But since some have thought Lysis prophane, I must vindicate him so far as that he is not without example. Calisto in the Comedy of Celestina says, That if the fire of Purgatory be as tormenting as that of his Love, he should wish himself the soul of a Beast rather then that of a man. And his man asking whether such expressions were Christian, or no: If I am no Christian, says he, I am a Melibean; for I adore Melibea, and believe in her. But these abuses of Religion, the Ceremonies and Saints of it, is so frequent in all Poets and Romances, that a man cannot avoid them so are they besotted, that they care not where they fasten their imagi∣nations.

But Lysis, you may perceive, is not wanting to make his party good, to prove his Divinities, his Satyres, and his Nymphs. He hath Agrippa up, but Clarimond clears him; yet not so, but his book of the Vanity of the Sciences comes short of what it pretends to; for some he hath only defin'd, and shewn what they were for, whereas it was hop'd he should have discovered the Vanity of them. But I wonder Lysis being so well read as he was, did not think on that Satyre which S. Hierome says appeared to S. Anthony the Hermite, and was afterwards brought alive to A∣lexandria. It may be he thinks better to quote his own Metamorphosis. But now is the Enchantment to be broken up; now must the pernicious reading of so many years, and the impression it had made on Lysis's mind, (which was but too susce∣ptible of all images) be rendred as contemptible as it had been pleasant to him. Clarimond by a short relation of his life and adventures makes a great progress a∣lone: but when all he said was confirmed by Anselme and Hircan, such was his confusion, that he had not what to say. Nor may this seem strange; for I never told you he was quite mad, but having good intervals, all could be said of him was, that he was extravagant. But Hircan's proffering to shew him the dresses of the Aquatick Gods, and the final revolt of the Shepherds, finishes the work of his con∣version. Upon which Clarimond shews him many secrets concerning Histories, and that it was not conducing to Felicity to go in Shepherds habit; convincing him out of those Authorities which he himself esteemed the greatest; for since he believed what was in Romances, he must also believe what Clarimond quoted out of them. And thus is he made wise by the maxims of Folly.

Lysis and Carmelin's marriages need not much remark: Only as for the former, where it was feared he might be as extravagant in his Philosophy as in his Shepherdry, 'tis to shew that it was hard to cure such a one so, as that there might not remain somwhat of the old disease. Charron is now one of his Authors, and of him he'll take instructions how to get children. In the Trial of Wits, there is a whole Chap∣ter to shew how to get Boyes, and not Girls. But all is but Theory, and fragments of Physicians, grounded upon Diets. But were there any truth in it, there yet wanted one thing, which is of most concernment in generation of fair children, that the married be both, as neer as may be, of a temperament. So that they should first have taught a man how to choose a wife moist or dry to his own temperament; or else told us, that upon every marriage there ought to sit a Grand-Jury of Phy∣sitians.

And thus have I given you an account of this History of the Shepherd Lysis; and tell you, that if you desire to know what is become of the Persons, you find in the text what became of the principal: For the less considerable, we shall follow the custom of the Romances so much, as not to trouble you with any thing further about them. All which when you have considered together, I doubt not but you will soon resolve where to fasten the folly and extravagance which this Shepherd

hath entertained the world with; for he doth but conveigh it from those great foun∣tains, the Poets and Romanceers that had lived in the several Ages before him.

For my part, in the mean time I must acknowledge my own deficiencies, which yet I hope are such as have not rendred my Author unlike himself: And whereas notwithstanding what is here said, this Book may be lookt on by some of a nature ri∣diculous and trivial, I am so bold as to tell them, that it is the most serious Satyre and gravest Work that ever came into the world, and of no small importance: For if in Religion we value so much Books that combat and overcome Errour, I see not why it should be a less acceptable action in Morality, to endeavour the eradication of Folly.

J. D.