A god to helpe or a goddeffe, Wherof to take my witneffe, The king of Bragman Dindimus ve to Aliaundre thus
of the Grekes feith
beleve he faith,
ver membre hadden
em they ipradden We belbaghten.
And of the galle the goddesse, For she was ful of haftineffe, Of wrath and light to greve also, They made and faid, it was Juno. Cupide, which the brond of fire Bare in his hond, he was the fire Of the ftomack, which boileth ever, Wherof the luftes ben the lever. To the goddeffe Cereres,
Whiche of the corn yaf her encres, Upon the feith that tho was take The wombes cure was betake.
And Venus through the lechery, For whiche they her deify, She kepte all down the remenaunt To thilke office appertenaunt.
Thus was difpers in fondry wife The misbeleve as I devise
With many an ymage of entaile, Of fuche as might hem nought availe, Forthy withoute lives chere Unmighty ben to fe or here Or fpeke or do or elles fele, And yet the fooles to hem knele, Whiche is her owne handes werke. Ha lord, how this beleve is derke And fer fro refonable wit, And netheles they don it yit. That was o day a ragged tre To morwe upon his mageste
Nota de prima ydolorum cultura, que ex tribus precipue ftatuis exorta eft, quarum prima fuit illa, quam in filii fui memoriam quidam princeps nomine Cirophanes a sculptore Prometheo fabricari conftituit.
Attitled ben to the montaignes.
And for the wodes in demeines Driades filvarum. To kepe tho ben Driades, Naiades foncium. Of fresfhe welles Naiades, And of the nimphes of the fee I finde a tale in proprete,
How Dorus whilom king of Grece, Whiche had of infortune a piece, His wife forth with his doughter alle So as the happes shulden falle With many a gentilwoman there Dreint in the falte fee they were, Wherof the Grekes that time saiden And fuch a name upon hem laiden, Nereides that they ben hote, The nimphes whiche that they note To regne upon the ftremes falte. Lo now, if this beleve halte. But of the nimphes as they telle, In every place where they dwelle They ben all redy obeifaunt As damifelles attendaunt
To the goddeffes, whofe fervise They mote obey in alle wife, Wherof the Grekes to hem beseke With tho, that ben goddeffes eke, And have in hem a great credence. And yet without experience
Saufe onely of illufion,
Which was to hem dampnacion.
For men also that were dede
They hadden goddes as I rede, And tho by name Manes highten,
To whom ful great honour they dighten, So as the Grekes lawe faith,
Which was ayein the righte feith.
Thus have I tolde a great partie, But all the hole progenie
Of goddes in that ilke time
To longe it were for to rime.
But yet of that, which thou haft herde, Of misbeleve, howe it hath ferde, There is a great diversite.
My fader, right fo thenketh me. But yet o thinge I you befeche, Which stant in alle mennes speche, The god and the goddeffe of love, Of whom ye nothing here above Have told ne spoken of her fare, That ye me wolde now declare, How they first come to that name.
My fone, I have it left for shame, Because I am her owne prest. But for they ftonde nigh thy brest Upon the shrifte of thy matere, Thou shalt of hem the fothe here And understond now well the cas. Venus Saturnes doughter was, Which alle daunger put awey Of love and found to luft a wey,
Qualiter Cupido et Venus deus et dea amoris nuncupan
So that of her in fondry place Diverse men fell into grace, And fuch a lufty life fhe ladde, That the diverfe children hadde, Now one by this, now one by that. Of her it was that Mars begat A child, which cleped was Armene, Of her cam alfo Andragene,
To whom Mercurie father was. Anchises begat Eneas
Of her alfo, and Ericon
Biten begatte, and therupon
Whan that she figh ther was none other
By Jupiter her owne brother
She lay, and he begat Cupide. And thilke fone upon a tide, Whan he was come unto his age, He had a wonder fair visage And founde his mother amorous, And he was alfo lecherous. So whan they weren bothe alone, As he whiche eyen hadde none To fe refon, his mother kist, And she also that nothing wift
But that, whiche unto his luft belongeth, To bene her love him underfongeth.
Thus was he blinde, and she unwis. But netheles this cause it is,
Which Cupide is the god of love,
For he his mother derfte love,
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