Metamorphoses

Ovid

Ovid. The XV bookes of P. Ouidius Naso, entytuled Metamorphosis. Golding, Arthur, translator. London: W. Seres (printer), 1567.

The Trumpets blew: and girding forward, both
Set foorth, and on the hovering dust with nimble feete eche goth.
A man would think they able were uppon the Sea to go
And never wet theyr feete, and on the ayles of come also
That still is growing in the feeld, and never downe them tread.
The man tooke courage at the showt and woordes of them that sed:
Now, now is tyme, Hippomenes, to ply it, hye apace:
Enforce thyself with all thy strength: lag not in any cace:
Thou shalt obteine. It is a thing ryght dowtfull whither hee
At theis well willing woordes of theyrs rejoysed more, or shee.
For old religion, not unlike a cave: wher priests of yore
Bestowed had of Images of wooden Goddes good store.
Hippomenes entring herinto defyld the holy place,
With his unlawfull lust: from which the Idolls turnd theyr face.
And Cybell with the towred toppes disdeyning, dowted whither
Shee in the lake of Styx might drowne the wicked folk togither.
The pennance seemed over lyght. And therefore shee did cawse
Thinne yellow manes to growe uppon theyr necks: and hooked pawes
In stead of fingars to succeede. Theyr shoulders were the same
They were before: with woondrous force deepe brested they became.
Theyr looke beecame feerce, cruell, grim, and sowre: a tufted tayle
Stretcht out in length farre after them upon the ground dooth trayle.
In stead of speech they rore: in stead of bed they haunt the wood:
And dreadful unto others they for all theyr cruell moode
With tamed teeth chank Cybells bitts in shape of Lyons. Shonne
Theis beastes deere hart: and not from theis alonely see thou ronne,
But also from eche other beast that turnes not backe to flight
But offreth with his boystows brest to try the chaunce of fyght:
Lest that thyne overhardinesse bee hurtfull to us both.
This warning given, with yoked swannes away through aire she goth.
But manhod by admonishment restreyned could not bee.
By chaunce his hounds in following of the tracke, a Boare did see,
And rowsed him. And as the swyne was comming from the wood,
Adonis hit him with a dart askew, and drew the blood.
The Boare streyght with his hooked groyne the hunting staffe out drew
Bestayned with his blood, and on Adonis did pursew.
Who trembling and retyring back, to place of refuge drew.
And hyding in his codds his tuskes as farre as he could thrust
He layd him all along for dead uppon the yellow dust.
Dame Venus in her chariot drawen with swannes was scarce arrived
At Cyprus, when shee knew afarre the sygh of him depryved
Of lyfe. Shee turnd her Cygnets backe and when shee from the skye
Beehilld him dead, and in his blood beweltred for to lye:
Shee leaped downe, and tare at once hir garments from her brist,
And rent her heare, and beate upon her stomack with her fist,
And blaming sore the destnyes, sayd: Yit shall they not obteine
Their will in all things. Of my greefe remembrance shall remayne
(Adonis) whyle the world doth last. From yeere to yeere shall growe
A thing that of my heavinesse and of thy death shall showe
The lively likenesse. In a flowre thy blood I will bestowe.
Hadst thou the powre, Persephonee, rank sented Mints to make
Of womens limbes? and may not I lyke powre upon mee take
Without disdeine and spyght, to turne Adonis to a flowre?
This sed, shee sprinckled Nectar on the blood, which through the powre
Therof did swell like bubbles sheere that ryse in weather cleere
On water. And before that full an howre expyred weere,
Of all one colour with the blood a flowre she there did fynd
Even like the flowre of that same tree whose frute in tender rynde
Have pleasant graynes inclosde. Howbee't the use of them is short.
For why the leaves do hang so looce through lightnesse in such sort,
As that the windes that all things perce, with every little blast
Doo shake them off and shed them so as that they cannot last.

Now whyle the Thracian Poet with this song delyghts the mynds
Of savage beastes, and drawes both stones and trees ageynst their kynds,
Behold the wyves of Ciconie with red deer skinnes about
Their furious brists as in the feeld they gadded on a rout,
Espyde him from a hillocks toppe still singing to his harp.
Of whom one shooke her head at him, and thus began to carp:
Behold (sayes shee) behold yoon same is he that doth disdeine
Us women. And with that same woord shee sent her lawnce amayne
At Orphyes singing mouth. The Lawnce armd round about with leaves,
Did hit him, and without a wound a marke behynd it leaves.
' Another threw a stone at him, which vanquisht with his sweete
And most melodius harmonye, fell humbly at his feete
As sorye for the furious act it purposed. But rash
And heady ryot out of frame all reason now did dash,
And frantik outrage reigned. Yit had the sweetenesse of his song
Appeasd all weapons, saving that the noyse now growing strong
With blowing shalmes, and beating drummes, and bedlem howling out,
And clapping hands on every syde by Bacchus drunken rout,
Did drowne the sownd of Orphyes harp. Then first of all stones were
Made ruddy with the prophets blood, and could not give him eare.
And first the flocke of Bacchus froes by violence brake the ring
Of Serpents, birds, and savage beastes that for to heere him sing
Sate gazing round about him there. And then with bluddy hands
They ran uppon the prophet who among them singing stands.
They flockt about him like as when a sort of birds have found
An Owle a daytymes in a tod: and hem him in full round,
As when a Stag by hungrye hownds is in a morning found,
The which forestall him round about and pull him to the ground.
Even so the prophet they assayle, and throwe their Thyrses greene
At him, which for another use than that invented beene.
Sum cast mee clods, sum boughes of trees, and sum threw stones. And lest
That weapons wherwithall to wreake theyr woodnesse which increast
Should want, it chaunst that Oxen by were tilling of the ground
And labring men with brawned armes not farre fro thence were found
A digging of the hardned earth, and earning of theyr food,
With sweating browes. They seeing this same rout, no longer stood,
But ran away and left theyr tooles behynd them. Every where
Through all the feeld theyr mattocks, rakes, and shovells scattred were.
Which when the cruell feends had caught, and had asunder rent
The horned Oxen, backe ageine to Orphy ward they went,
And (wicked wights) they murthred him, who never till that howre
Did utter woordes in vaine, nor sing without effectuall powre.
And through that mouth of his (oh lord) which even the stones had heard,
And unto which the witlesse beastes had often given regard,
His ghost then breathing into aire, departed. Even the fowles
Were sad for Orphye, and the beast with sorye syghing howles:
The rugged stones did moorne for him, the woods which many a tyme
Had followed him to heere him sing, bewayled this same cryme.
Yea even the trees lamenting him did cast theyr leavy heare.
The rivers also with theyr teares (men say) encreased were.
Yea and the Nymphes of brookes and woods uppon theyr streames did sayle
With scattred heare about theyr eares, in boats with sable sayle.
His members lay in sundrie steds. His head and harp both cam
To Hebrus, and (a woondrous thing) as downe the streame they swam,
His Harp did yeeld a moorning sound: his livelesse toong did make
A certeine lamentable noyse as though it still yit spake,
And bothe the banks in moorning wyse made answer to the same.
At length adowne theyr country streame to open sea they came,
And lyghted on Methymnye shore in Lesbos land. And there
No sooner on the forreine coast now cast aland they were,
But that a cruell naturde Snake did streyght uppon them fly,
And licking on his ruffled heare the which was dropping drye,
Did gape to tyre uppon those lippes that had beene woont to sing
Most heavenly hymnes. But Phebus streyght preventing that same thins,
Dispoynts the Serpent of his bit, and turnes him into stone
With gaping chappes. Already was the Ghost of Orphye gone
To Plutos realme, and there he all the places eft beehild
The which he heretofore had seene. And as he sought the feeld
Of fayre Elysion (where the soules of godly folk doo woonne,)
He found his wyfe Eurydicee, to whom he streyght did roonne,
And hilld her in imbracing armes. There now he one while walks
Togither with hir cheeke by cheeke: another while he stalks
Before her, and another whyle he followeth her. And now
Without all kinde of forfeyture he saufly myght avow
His looking backward at his wyfe. But Bacchus greeved at
The murther of the Chapleine of his Orgies, suffred not
The mischeef unrevengd to bee. For by and by he bound
The Thracian women by the feete with writhen roote in ground,
As many as consenting to this wicked act were found.
And looke how much that eche of them the prophet did pursew,
So much he sharpening of their toes, within the ground them drew.
And as the bird that fynds her legs besnarled in the net
The which the fowlers suttletye hathe clocely for her set,
And feeles shee cannot get away, stands flickering with her wings,
And with her fearefull leaping up drawes clocer still the strings:
So eche of theis when in the ground they fastned were, assayd
Aflayghted for to fly away. But every one was stayd
With winding roote which hilld her downe. Her frisking could not boote.
And whyle she lookte what was become of Toe, of nayle, and foote,
Shee sawe her leggs growe round in one, and turning into woode.
And as her thyghes with violent hand shee sadly striking stoode,
Shee felt them tree: her brest was tree: her shoulders eeke were tree.
Her armes long boughes yee myght have thought, and not deceyved bee.

But Bacchus was not so content: he quyght forsooke their land:
And with a better companye removed out of hand
Unto the Vyneyarde of his owne mount Tmolus, and the river
Pactolus though as yit no streames of gold it did deliver,
Ne spyghted was for precious sands. His olde accustomd rout
Of woodwards and of franticke froes envyrond him about.
But old Silenus was away. The Phrygian ploughmen found
Him reeling bothe for droonkennesse and age, and brought him bound
With garlands unto Midas, king of Phrygia, unto whom
The Thracian Orphye and the preest Eumolphus comming from
The towne of Athens erst had taught the Orgies. When he knew
His fellowe and companion of the selfesame badge and crew,
Uppon the comming of this guest, he kept a feast the space
Of twyce fyve dayes and twyce fyve nyghts togither in that place.
And now th'eleventh tyme Lucifer had mustred in the sky
The heavenly host, when Midas commes to Lydia jocundly
And yeeldes the old Silenus to his fosterchyld. He, glad
That he his fosterfather had eftsoones recovered, bad
King Midas ask him what he would. Right glad of that was hee,
But not a whit at latter end the better should he bee.
He minding to misuse his giftes, sayd: Graunt that all and some
The which my body towcheth bare may yellow gold become.
God Bacchus graunting his request, his hurtfull gift performd,
And that he had not better wisht he in his stomacke stormd.
Rejoycing in his harme away full merye goes the king:
And for to try his promis true he towcheth every thing.
Scarce giving credit to himself, he pulled yoong greene twiggs
From off an Holmetree: by and by all golden were the spriggs.
He tooke a flintstone from the ground, the stone likewyse became
Pure gold. He towched next a clod of earth, and streight the same
By force of towching did become a wedge of yellow gold.
He gathered eares of rypened come: immediatly beholde
The come was gold. An Apple then he pulled from a tree:
Yee would have thought the Hesperids had given it him. If hee
On Pillars high his fingars layd, they glistred like the sonne.
The water where he washt his hands did from his hands so ronne,
As Danae might have beene therwith beguyld. He scarce could hold
His passing joyes within his harr, for making all things gold.
Whyle he thus joyd, his officers did spred the boord anon,
And set downe sundry sorts of meate and mancheate theruppon.
Then whither his hand did towch the bread, the bread was massy gold:
Or whither he chawde with hungry teeth his meate, yee might behold
The peece of meate betweene his jawes a plat of gold to bee.
In drinking wine and water mixt, yee myght discerne and see
The liquid gold ronne downe his throte. Amazed at the straunge
Mischaunce, and being both a wretch and rich, he wisht to chaunge
His riches for his former state, and now he did abhorre
The thing which even but late before he cheefly longed for.
No meate his hunger slakes: his throte is shrunken up with thurst:
And justly dooth his hatefull gold torment him as accurst.
Then lifting up his sory armes and handes to heaven, he cryde:
O father Bacchus, pardon mee. My sinne I will not hyde.
Have mercy, I beseech thee, and vouchsauf to rid mee quyght
From this same harme that seemes so good and glorious unto syght.
The gentle Bacchus streight uppon confession of his cryme
Restored Midas to the state hee had in former tyme.
And having made performance of his promis, hee beereft him
The gift that he had graunted him. And lest he should have left him
Beedawbed with the dregges of that same gold which wickedly
Hee wished had, he willed him to get him by and by
To that great ryver which dooth ronne by Sardis towne, and there
Along the chanell up the streame his open armes to beare
Untill he commeth to the spring: and then his head to put
Full underneathe the foming spowt where greatest was the gut,
And so in washing of his limbes to wash away his cryme.
The king (as was commaunded him) ageinst the streame did clyme.
And streyght the powre of making gold departing quyght from him,
Infects the ryver, making it with golden streame to swim.
The force whereof the bankes about so soked in theyr veynes,
That even as yit the yellow gold uppon the cloddes remaynes.

Then Midas, hating riches, haunts the pasturegrounds and groves,
And up and down with Pan among the Lawnds and mountaines roves.
But still a head more fat than wyse, and doltish wit he hath,
The which as erst, yit once againe must woork theyr mayster scath.
The mountayne Tmole from loftye toppe to seaward looketh downe,
And spreading farre his boorely sydes, extendeth to the towne
Of Sardis with the t'one syde and to Hypep with the tother.
There Pan among the fayrye elves that dawnced round togither
In setting of his conning out for singing and for play
Uppon his pype of reedes and wax, presuming for to say
Apollos musick was not like to his, did take in hand
A farre unequall match, wherof the Tmole for judge should stand.
The auncient judge sitts downe uppon his hill, and ridds his eares
From trees, and onely on his head an Oken garlond weares,
Wherof the Acornes dangled downe about his hollow brow.
And looking on the God of neate he sayd: Yee neede not now
To tarry longer for your judge. Then Pan blew lowd and strong
His country pype of reedes, and with his rude and homely song
Delighted Midas eares, for he by chaunce was in the throng.
When Pan had doone, the sacred Tmole to Phebus turnd his looke,
And with the turning of his head his busshye heare he shooke.
Then Phebus with a crowne of Bay uppon his golden heare
Did sweepe the ground with scarlet robe. In left hand he did beare
His viol made of precious stones and Ivorye intermixt.
And in his right hand for to strike, his bowe was redy fixt.
He was the verrye paterne of a good Musician ryght
Anon he gan with conning hand the tuned strings to smyght.
The sweetenesse of the which did so the judge of them delyght,
That Pan was willed for to put his Reedepype in his cace,
And not to fiddle nor to sing where viols were in place.
The judgement of the holy hill was lyked well of all,
Save Midas, who found fault therwith and wrongfull did it call. '
Apollo could not suffer well his foolish eares to keepe
Theyr humaine shape, but drew them wyde, and made them long and deepe.
And filld them full of whytish heares, and made them downe to sag,
And through too much unstablenesse continually to wag.
His body keeping in the rest his manly figure still,
Was ponnisht in the part that did offend for want of skill.
And so a slowe paaste Asses eares his heade did after beare.
This shame endevereth he to hyde. And therefore he did weare
A purple nyghtcappe ever since. But yit his Barber who
Was woont to notte him spyed it: and beeing eager to
Disclose it, when he neyther durst to utter it, nor could
It keepe in secret still, he went and digged up the mowld,
And whispring softly in the pit, declaard what eares hee spyde
His mayster have, and turning downe the clowre ageine, did hyde
His blabbed woordes within the ground, and closing up the pit
Departed thence and never made mo woordes at all of it.
Soone after, there began a tuft of quivering reedes to growe
Which beeing rype bewrayd theyr seede and him that did them sowe.
For when the gentle sowtherne wynd did lyghtly on them blowe,
They uttred foorth the woordes that had beene buried in the ground
And so reprovde the Asses eares of Midas with theyr sound.

Apollo after this revenge from Tmolus tooke his flyght:
And sweeping through the ayre, did on the selfsame syde alvght
Of Hellespontus, in the Realme of king Laomedon.
There stoode uppon the right syde of Sigaeum, and uppon
The left of Rhetye cliffe that tyme, an Altar buylt of old
To Jove that heereth all mennes woordes. Heere Phebus did behold
The foresayd king Laomedon beginning for to lay
Foundation of the walles of Troy: which woork from day to day
Went hard and slowly forward, and requyrd no little charge,
Then he togither with the God that rules the surges large,
Did put themselves in shape of men, and bargaynd with the king
Of Phrygia for a summe of gold his woork to end to bring.
Now when the woork was done, the king theyr wages them denayd,
And falsly faaste them downe with othes it was not as they sayd.
Thou shalt not mock us unrevendgd (quoth Neptune). And anon
He caused all the surges of the sea to rush uppon
The shore of covetous Troy, and made the countrye like the deepe.
The goodes of all the husbandmen away he quight did sweepe,
And overwhelmd theyr feeldes with waves. And thinking this too small
A pennance for the falsehod, he demaunded therwithall
His daughter for a monster of the Sea. Whom beeing bound
Untoo a rocke, stout Hercules delivering saufe and sound,
Requyrd his steeds which were the hyre for which he did compound.
And when that of so great desert the king denyde the hyre.
The twyce forsworne false towne of Troy he sacked in his ire.
And Telamon in honour of his service did enjoy.
The Lady Hesion, daughter of the covetous king of Troy.
For Peleus had already got a Goddesse to his wife,
And lived unto both theyr joyes a right renowmed lyfe.
And sure he was not prowder of his graundsyre, than of thee
That wert become his fathrinlaw. For many mo than hee
Have had the hap of mighty Jove the nephewes for to bee.
But never was it heeretofore the chaunce of any one
To have a Goddesse to his wyfe, save only his alone.

For unto watry Thetis thus old Protew did foretell:
Go marry: thou shalt beare a sonne whose dooings shall excell
His fathers farre in feates of armes, and greater he shall bee
In honour, high renowme, and fame, than ever erst was hee.
This caused Jove the watry bed of Thetis to forbeare
Although his hart were more than warme with love of her, for feare
The world sum other greater thing than Jove himself should breede,
And willd the sonne of Aeacus this Peleus to succeede
In that which he himself would faine have done, and for to take
The Lady of the sea in armes a mother her to make.
There is a bay of Thessaly that bendeth lyke a boawe.
The sydes shoote foorth, where if the sea of any depth did flowe
It were a haven. Scarcely dooth the water hyde the sand.
It hath a shore so firme, that if a man theron doo stand,
No print of foote remaynes behynd: it hindreth not ones pace,
Ne covered is with hovering reeke. Adjoyning to this place,
There is a grove of Myrtletrees with frute of dowle colour,
And in the midds thereof a Cave. I can not tell you whither
That nature or the art of man were maker of the same.
It seemed rather made by arte. Oft Thetis hither came
Starke naked, ryding bravely on a brydled Dolphins backe.
There Peleus as shee lay asleepe uppon her often bracke.
And forbycause that at her handes entreatance nothing winnes,
He folding her about the necke with both his armes, beginnes
To offer force. And surely if shee had not falne to wyles
And shifted oftentymes her shape, he had obteind erewhyles.
But shee became sumtymes a bird: he hilld her like a bird.
Anon shee was a massye log: but Peleus never stird
A whit for that. Then thirdly shee of speckled Tyger tooke
The ugly shape: for feare of whose most feerce and cruell looke,
His armes he from her body twicht. And at his going thence,
In honour of the watry Goddes he burned frankincence,
And powred wyne uppon the sea, with fat of neate and sheepe:
Untill the prophet that dooth dwell within Carpathian deepe,
Sayd thus: Thou sonne of Aeacus, thy wish thou sure shalt have
Alonely when shee lyes asleepe within her pleasant Cave,
Cast grinnes to trappe her unbewares: hold fast with snarling knot:
And though shee fayne a hundreth shapes, deceyve thee let her not.
But sticke unto't what ere it bee, untill the tyme that shee
Returneth to the native shape shee erst was woont to bee.
When Protew thus had sed, within the sea he duckt his head,
And suffred on his latter woordes the water for to spred.
The lyghtsum Titan downeward drew, and with declyning chayre
Approched to the westerne sea, when Neryes daughter fayre
Returning from the sea, resorts to her accustomd cowch.
And Peleus scarcely had begon hir naked limbes to towch,
But that shee chaungd from shape to shape, untill at length shee found
Herself surprysd. Then stretching out her armes with sighes profound,
She sayd: Thou overcommest mee, and not without the ayd
Of God. And then she, Thetis like, appeerd in shape of mayd.
The noble prince imbracing her obteynd her at his will,
To both theyr joyes, and with the great Achylles did her fill.