Metamorphoses

Ovid

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

A happye wyght was Peleus in his wyfe: a happy wyght
Was Peleus also in his sonne. And if yee him acquight
Of murthring Phocus, happy him in all things count yee myght.
But giltye of his brothers blood, and bannisht for the same
From bothe his fathers house and Realme, to Trachin sad he came.
The sonne of lyghtsum Lucifer, king Ceyx (who in face
Exprest the lively beawtye of his fathers heavenly grace,)
Without all violent rigor and sharpe executions reignd
In Trachin. He right sad that tyme unlike himself, remaynd
Yit moorning for his brothers chaunce transformed late before.
When Peleus thither came, with care and travayle tyred sore,
He left his cattell and his sheepe (whereof he brought great store)
Behynd him in a shady vale not farre from Trachin towne,
And with a little companye himself went thither downe.
Assoone as leave to come to Court was graunted him, he bare
A braunche of Olyf in his hand, and humbly did declare
His name and lynage. Onely of his crime no woord hee spake,
But of his flyght another cause pretensedly did make:
Desyring leave within his towne or countrye to abyde.
The king of Trachin gently thus to him ageine replyde:
Our bownty to the meanest sort (O Peleus) dooth extend:
Wee are not woont the desolate our countrye to forfend.
And though I bee of nature most inclyned good to doo:
Thyne owne renowme, thy graundsyre Jove are forcements thereunto.
Misspend no longer tyme in sute. I gladly doo agree
To graunt thee what thou wilt desyre. Theis things that thou doost see
I would thou should account them as thyne owne, such as they bee
I would they better were. With that he weeped. Peleus and
His freends desyred of his greef the cause to understand.
He answerd thus: Perchaunce yee think this bird that lives by pray
And putts all other birds in feare had wings and fethers ay.
He was a man. And as he was right feerce in feats of armes,
And stout and readye bothe to wreake and also offer harmes:
So was he of a constant mynd. Daedalion men him hyght.
Our father was that noble starre that brings the morning bryght,
And in the welkin last of all gives place to Phebus lyght.
My study was to maynteine peace, in peace was my delyght,
And for to keepe mee true to her to whom my fayth is plyght.
My brother had felicite in warre and bloody fyght.
His prowesse and his force which now dooth chase in cruell flyght
The Dooves of Thisbye since his shape was altred thus anew,
Ryght puyssant Princes and theyr Realmes did heeretofore subdew.
He had a chyld calld Chyone, whom nature did endew
With beawtye so, that when to age of fowreteene yeeres shee grew,
A thousand Princes liking her did for hir favour sew.
By fortune as bryght Phebus and the sonne of Lady May
Came t'one from Delphos, toother from mount Cyllen, by the way
They saw her bothe at once, and bothe at once were tane in love.
Apollo till the tyme of nyght differd his sute to move.
But Hermes could not beare delay. He stroked on the face
The mayden with his charmed rod which hath the powre to chace
And bring in sleepe: the touch whereof did cast her in so dead
A sleepe, that Hermes by and by his purpose of her sped.
As soone as nyght with twinckling starres the welkin had beesprent,
Apollo in an old wyves shape to Chyon clocely went,
And tooke the pleasure which the sonne of Maya had forehent.
Now when shee full her tyme had gone, shee bare by Mercurye
A sonne that hyght Awtolychus, who provde a wyly pye,
And such a fellow as in theft and filching had no peere.
He was his fathers owne sonne right: he could mennes eyes so bleere,
As for to make the black things whyghlt, and whyght things black appeere.
And by Apollo (for shee bare a payre) was borne his brother
Philammon, who in musick arte excelled farre all other,
As well in singing as in play. But what avayled it
To beare such twinnes, and of two Goddes in favour to have sit?
And that shee to her father had a stowt and valeant knight,
Or that her graundsyre was the sonne of Jove that God of might?
Dooth glorie hurt to any folk? It surely hurted her.
For standing in her owne conceyt shee did herself prefer
Before Diana, and dispraysd her face, who there with all
Inflaamd with wrath, sayd: Well, with deedes we better please her shall.
Immediatly shee bent her bowe, and let an arrow go,
Which strake her through the toong, whose spight deserved
wounding so.
Her toong wext dumb, her speech gan fayle that erst was over ryfe,
And as shee stryved for to speake, away went blood and lyfe.
How wretched was I then, O God? how strake it to my hart?
What woordes of comfort did I speake to ease my brothers smart?
To which he gave his eare as much as dooth the stony rocke
To hideous roring of the waves that doo against it knocke.
There was no measure nor none ende in making of his mone,
Nor in bewayling comfortlesse his daughter that was gone.
But when he sawe her bodye burne, fowre tymes with all his myght
He russhed foorth to thrust himself amid the fyre in spyght.
Fowre tymes hee beeing thence repulst, did put himself to flyght.
And ran mee wheras was no way, as dooth a Bullocke when
A hornet stings him in the necke. Mee thought hee was as then
More wyghter farre than any man. Yee would have thought his feete
Had had sum wings. So fled he quyght from all, and being fleete
Through eagernesse to dye, he gat to mount Parnasos knappe
And there Apollo pitying him and rewing his missehappe,
When as Daedalion from the cliffe himself had headlong floong,
Transformd him to a bird, and on the soodaine as hee hung
Did give him wings, and bowwing beake, and hooked talants keene,
And eeke a courage full as feerce as ever it had beene.
And furthermore a greater strength he lent him therwithall,
Than one would thinke conveyd myght bee within a roome so small.
And now in shape of Gossehawke hee to none indifferent is,
But wreakes his teene on all birds. And bycause him selfe ere this
Did feele the force of sorrowes sting within his wounded hart,
Hee maketh others oftentymes to sorrow and to smart.

As Caeyx of his brothers chaunce this wondrous story seth,
Commes ronning thither all in haste and almost out of breth
Anaetor the Phocayan who was Pelyes herdman. Hee
Sayd: Pelye Pelye, I doo bring sad tydings unto thee.
Declare it man (quoth Peleus) what ever that it bee.
King Ceyx at his fearefull woordes did stand in dowtfull stowne.
This noonetyde (quoth the herdman) Iche did drive your cattell downe
To zea, and zum a them did zit uppon the yellow zand
And looked on the large mayne poole of water neere at hand.
Zum roayled zoftly up and downe, and zum a them did zwim
And bare their jolly horned heades aboove the water trim.
A Church stondes neere the zea not deckt with gold nor marble stone
But made of wood, and hid with trees that dreeping hang theron.
A visherman that zat and dryde hiz netts uppo the zhore
Did tell'z that Nereus and his Nymphes did haunt the place of yore,
And how that thay beene Goddes a zea. There butts a plot vorgrowne
With zallow trees uppon the zame, the which is overblowne
With tydes, and is a marsh. From thence a woolf, an orped wyght,
With hideous noyse of rustling made the groundes neere hand afryght.
Anon he commes mee buskling out bezmeared all his chappes
With blood daubaken and with vome as veerce as thunder clappes.
Hiz eyen did glaster red as vyre, and though he raged zore
Vor vamin and vor madnesse bothe, yit raged he much more
In madnesse. Vor hee cared not his hunger vor to zlake,
Or i'the death of oxen twoo or three an end to make.
But wounded all the herd and made a havocke of them all,
And zum of us too, in devence did happen vor to vail,
In daunger of his deadly chappes, and lost our lyves. The zhore
And zea is staynd with blood, and all the ven is on a rore.
Delay breedes losse. The cace denyes now dowting vor to stond,
Whyle owght remaynes let all of us take weapon in our hond.
Let's arme our zelves, and let uz altogither on him vall.
The herdman hilld his peace. The losse movde Peleus not at all.
But calling his offence to mynde, he thought that Neryes daughter,
The chyldlesse Ladye Psamathe, determynd with that slaughter
To keepe an Obit to her sonne whom hee before had killd.
Immediatly uppon this newes the king of Trachin willd
His men to arme them, and to take their weapons in theyr hand,
And he addrest himself to bee the leader of the band.
His wyfe, Alcyone, by the noyse admonisht of the same,
In dressing of her head, before shee had it brought in frame,
Cast downe her heare, and ronning foorth caught Ceyx fast about
The necke, desyring him with teares to send his folk without
Himself, and in the lyfe of him to save the lyves of twayne.
O Princesse, cease your godly feare (quoth Peleus then agayne).
Your offer dooth deserve great thanks. I mynd not warre to make
Ageinst straunge monsters. I as now another way must take.
The seagods must bee pacifyde. There was a Castle hye,
And in the same a lofty towre whose toppe dooth face the skye,
A joyfull mark for maryners to guyde theyr vessells by.
To this same Turret up they went, and there with syghes behilld
The Oxen lying every where stark dead uppon the feelde
And eeke the cruell stroygood with his bluddy mouth and heare.
Then Peleus stretching foorth his handes to Seaward, prayd in feare
To watrish Psamath that she would her sore displeasure stay,
And help him. She no whit relents to that that he did pray.
But Thetis for hir husband made such earnest sute, that shee
Obteynd his pardon. For anon the woolfe (who would not bee
Revoked from the slaughter for the sweetenesse of the blood)
Persisted sharpe and eager still, untill that as he stood
Fast byghting on a Bullocks necke, shee turnd him intoo stone
As well in substance as in hew, the name of woolf alone
Reserved. For although in shape hee seemed still yit one,
The verry colour of the stone beewrayd him to bee none,
And that he was not to bee feard. How be it froward fate
Permitts not Peleus in that land to have a setled state.
He wandreth like an outlaw to the Magnets. There at last
Acastus the Thessalien purgd him of his murther past.