And also Pluto, somtyme kynge of hell; A cyte of Grece, standyng in Thessayle, Betwene grete rockes, as the boke doth tell, Wherin were people wythout any fayle, Huge, fyerse, and strong in battayle, Tyrauntes, theves, replete with treason; Wherfore poetes, by true comparison,
Unto the devylles, blacke and tedious, Dyd them resemble, in terrible fygure, For theyr mysselyvyng so foule and vycyous, As to thys daye it doth appere
Of Cerebus the defloured pycture,
The porter of hell, wyth thre heades ugly, Lyke an horrible gyaunt fyrce and wonderly:
Because alway hys customed tyranny Was elevate in herte by hygh presumpcion, Thynkyng hym selfe most strong and myghty; And secondly, he was destruction
Of many ladies by yll compulcion; And thyrdly, his desyre insaciable Was to get ryches full innumerable.
Thus, for these thre vyces abhominable
They made hym wyth thre hedes serpentyne, And like a feend his body semblable, For his pryde, avaryce, and also rapyne. The morall cense can soone enlumyne The fatall pycture to be exuberaunt, And to our syght clere, and not variaunte.
Also rehersed the cronicles of Spayne, How redoubted Hercules by puyssaunce Fought with an ydre, ryght grete certayne, Having seven heades of full grete myschaunce; For whan that he wyth all hys valiaunce Had stryken of an head, ryght shortly, Another anon arose ryght sodaynly.
Seven sophyms full hard and fallacyous Thys ydre used in preposicion
Unto the people, and was full rigorious To devoure them, where lacked responsion; And whan one reason had conclusion, Another reason than incontinent Began agayne wyth subtyll argument.
For whych cause the poetes covertly With vii. heades doth thys ydre depaynt, For these vii. sophyms full ryght closely; But of rude people the wyttes are so faynt, That wyth theyr connyng they can not acquaynt, But who that lyst theyr scyence to lerne, Their obscure fygures he shall well decerne.
O redolent well of famous poetry, O clere fountayne replete wyth swetenes, Reflerynge out the dulcet delicacy Of iiii. ryvers in mervaylous wydenesse, Fayrer than Tygrys or yet Eufrates; For the fyrst ryver is Understandyng; The seconde ryver Close-concluding;
The thyrd ryver is called Novelry; The fourth ryver is called Carbuncles, Amyddes of whom the toure is so goodly Of Vyrgyll standeth, most solacious, Where he is entered in stones precious; By thys fayre toure, in a goodly grene, Thys well doth spryng both bryght and sheen.
To understandyng these iiii. accident: Doctryne, perceyveraunce, and exercyse, And also therto is equypolent Evermore the perfyt practyse,
For fyrst doctryne in all goodly wyse
The perceyveraunt trow the in hys bote of wyll In understandyng for to knowe good from yll.
So famous poetes did us endoctrine Of the ryght way for to be intellectyfe; Theyr fables they dyd ryght so ymagyne, That by example we may voyde the stryfe, And wythout myschefe for to lede our lyfe, By the advertence of theyr storyes olde, The fruit wherof we may full well beholde
Depaynted on aras, how in antiquitie, Dystroyed was the grete citie of Troye, For a lytell cause, grounded on vanitie, To mortall ruyn they tourned theyr joye. Theyr understandyng they dyd than occupy, Nothyng prepensyng how they dyd prepare To Scourge them selfe and bryng them in a snare.
Who is opprest with a lytell wrong, Revengyng it he may it soone encrease; For better it is for to suffer among An injury, as for to keepe the peace, Than to begyne whych he shall never cease. Warre ones begon, it is hard to know Who shall abyde and who shall overthrowe.
The hygh power, honour, and noblenes, Of the myghty Romaynes, to whose excellence All the wyde worlde so muche of gretenes Unto theyr empyre was in obedience,
Suche was theyr famous porte and preemynence, Tyll within themselfe there was a contraversy Makyng them lese theyr worthy sygneoury.
It is ever the grounde of sapience, Before that thou accomplysh outwardly, For to revolve understandyng and prepence All in thy selfe full often inwardly, The begynnyng and the myddle certaynly Wyth the ende, or thou put it in ure,
And werke wyth councell that thou mayst be sure.
And who that so doth shall never repent, For his dede is founded on a perfyt grounde, And for to fall it hath none impediment, Wyth surenes it is so hygh-walled rounde. In welth and ryches it must needes habound, On every syde it hath suche ordinaunce That nothynge can do it anoyaunce.
Thus the poetes conclude full closely Their fruitfull problemes for reformacion, To make us lerne to lyve directly,
Theyr good entent and true construccion, Shewyng to us the whole affeccion
Of the way of vertue, welth, and stablenes, And to shut the gate of myschevous entres.
And evermore they are ymaginatyfe, Tales newe from daye to daye to fayne, The erryng people, that are retractif, As to the ryght way to bryng them agayne: And who that lyst their sentence retayne, It shall hym prouffyt yf he wyll apply To doo therafter ful conveniently.
Carbuncles in the most derke nyght
Dothe shyne fayre wyth clere radiant beames, Exylyng derkenes wyth his rayes lyght;
And so these poetes, with theyr golden streames, Devoyde our rudenes wyth grete fyry lemes; Theyr centencious verses are refulgent Encensyng out the odour redolent.
And is theyr worke also extynguyshible? Nay, truely, for it doth shyne ryght cleere Thrugh cloudes derke unto the odyble, To whom truely it may nothyng appeere Where connyng fayleth, the scyence so deere Ignoraunce hateth wyth fervent envy, And unto connyng is mortall ennemy.
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