This is the bodie's nurse; but since man's wit
Found th' art of cookery, to delight his sense;
More bodies are consum'd and kild with it,
Then with the sword, famine, or pestilence.
Smelling.
Next, in the nosthrils she doth vse the smell:
As God the breath of life in them did giue,
So makes He now this power in them to dwell,
To iudge all ayres, whereby we breath and liue.
This sense is also mistresse of an Art,
Which to soft people sweete perfumes doth sell;
Though this deare Art doth little good impart,
"Sith[128] they smell best, that doe of nothing smell.
And yet good sents[129] doe purifie the braine,
Awake the fancie, and the wits refine;
Hence old Deuotion, incense did ordaine
To make mens' spirits apt for thoughts diuine.
Feeling.
Lastly, the feeling power, which is Life's root,
Through euery liuing part it selfe doth shed;
By sinewes, which extend from head to foot,
And like a net, all ore the body spred.
Much like a subtill spider, which doth sit
In middle of her web, which spreadeth wide;
If ought doe touch the vtmost thred of it,
Shee feeles it instantly on euery side.
By Touch, the first pure qualities we learne,
Which quicken all things, hote, cold, moist and dry;
By Touch, hard, soft, rough, smooth, we doe discerne;
By Touch, sweet pleasure, and sharpe paine, we try.