No. 29.
On their steeds the ladies ride,
Two fair girls and slender;
Modest are their eyes and mild,
And their cheeks are tender.
Thus young lilies break the sheath,
Budding roses render
Blushes, and twinned pairs of stars
Climb the heavens with splendour.
Toward Love's Paradise they fare,
Such, I ween, their will is;
While the strife between the pair
Turns their cheeks to lilies;
Phyllis Flora flouts, and fair
Flora flouteth Phyllis;
Flora's hand a hawk doth bear,
And a goshawk Phyllis.
After a short space they came
Where a grove was growing;
At the entrance of the same
Rills with murmur flowing;
There the wind with myrrh and spice
Redolent was blowing,
Sounds of timbrel, harp, and lyre
Through the branches going.
All the music man could make
There they heard in plenty;
Timbrel, psaltery, lyre, and lute,
Harp and viol dainty;
Voices that in part-song meet
Choiring forte, lente;
Sounds the diatesseron,
Sounds the diapente.
All the tongues of all the birds
With full cry were singing;
There the blackbird's melody
Sweet and true was ringing;
Wood-dove, lark, and thrush on high
Jocund anthems flinging,
With the nightingale, who still
To her grief was clinging.
When the girls drew nigh the grove,
Some fear came upon them;
Further as they fared, the charm
Of the pleasance won them;
All the birds so sweetly sang
That a spell was on them,
And their bosoms warmed with love
At the welcome shown them.
Man would be immortal if
He could there be dwelling:
Every branch on every tree
With ripe fruit is swelling;
All the ways with nard and myrrh
And with spice are smelling:
How divine the Master is
All the house is telling.
Blithesome bands arrest their gaze,
Youths and maidens dancing;
Bodies beauteous as the stars,
Eyes with heaven's light glancing
And the bosoms of the girls,
At the sight entrancing,
Leap to view such marvels new,
Joy with joy enhancing!
They their horses check, and light,
Moved with sudden pleasure;
Half forget what brought them here,
Thralled by love and leisure;
Till once more the nightingale
Tuned her thrilling measure;
At that cry each girl again
Hugs her hidden treasure.
Round the middle of the grove
Was a place enchanted,
Which the god for his own rites
Specially had planted;
Fauns and nymphs and satyrs here
Flowery alleys haunted,
And before the face of Love
Played and leaped and chaunted.
In their hands they carry thyme,
Crowns of fragrant roses;
Bacchus leads the choir divine
And the dance composes;
Nymphs and fauns with feet in tune
Interchange their posies;
But Silenus trips and reels
When the chorus closes.
On an ass the elder borne
All the mad crew guideth;
Mirth and laughter at the view
Through Love's glad heart glideth.
"Io!" shouts the eld; that sound
In his throat subsideth,
For his voice in wine is drowned,
And his old age chideth.
'Mid these pleasant sights appears
Love, the young joy-giver;
Bright as stars his eyes, and wings
On his shoulders shiver;
In his left hand is the bow,
At his side the quiver;
From his state the world may know
He is lord for ever.
Leans the boy upon a staff
Intertwined with flowers,
Scent of nectar from his hair
Breathes around the bowers;
Hand in hand before him kneel
Three celestial Hours,
Graces who Love's goblet fill
From immortal showers.
It would surely be superfluous to point out the fluent elegance of this poem, or to dwell farther upon the astonishing fact that anything so purely Renaissance in tone should have been produced in the twelfth century.
Cupid, as was natural, settles the dispute of the two girls by deciding that scholars are more suitable for love than soldiers.
This would be the place to introduce another long descriptive poem, if the nature of its theme rendered it fit for translation. It relates the visit of a student to what he calls the Templum Veneris; in other words, to the house of a courtesan. Her attendants are sirens; and the whole poem, dealing with a vulgar incident, is conducted in this mock-heroic strain.[31]