Metamorphoses

Ovid

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

Among the darke Cimmerians is a hollow mountaine found
And in the hill a Cave that farre dooth ronne within the ground,
The Chamber and the dwelling place where slouthfull sleepe dooth cowch.
The lyght of Phebus golden beames this place can never towch.
A foggye mist with dimnesse mixt streames upwarde from the ground,
And glimmering twylyght evermore within the same is found.
No watchfull bird with barbed bill, and combed crowne dooth call
The morning foorth with crowing out. There is no noyse at all
Of waking dogge, nor gagling goose more waker than the hound
To hinder sleepe. Of beast ne wyld ne tame there is no sound.
No bowghes are stird with blastes of wynd, no noyse of tatling toong
Of man or woman ever yit within that bower roong.
Dumb quiet dwelleth there. Yit from the Roches foote dooth go
The ryver of forgetfulnesse, which ronneth trickling so
Uppon the little pebble stones which in the channell lye,
That unto sleepe a great deale more it dooth provoke thereby.
Before the entry of the Cave, there growes of Poppye store,
With seeded heades, and other weedes innumerable more,
Out of the milkye jewce of which the night dooth gather sleepes,
And over all the shadowed earth with dankish deawe them dreepes.
Bycause the craking hindges of the doore no noyse should make,
There is no doore in all the house, nor porter at the gate.
Amid the Cave, of Ebonye a bedsted standeth hye,
And on the same a bed of downe with keeverings blacke dooth lye:
In which the drowzye God of sleepe his lither limbes dooth rest.
About him, forging sundrye shapes as many dreames lye prest
As eares of come doo stand in feeldes in harvest tyme, or leaves
Doo grow on trees, or sea to shore of sandye cinder heaves.
As soone as Iris came within this house, and with her hand
Had put asyde the dazeling dreames that in her way did stand,
The brightnesse of her robe through all the sacred house did shine.
The God of sleepe scarce able for to rayse his heavy eyen,
A three or fowre tymes at the least did fall ageine to rest,
And with his nodding head did knocke his chinne ageinst his brest.
At length he shaking of himselfe, uppon his elbowe leande.
And though he knew for what shee came: he askt her what shee meand.
O sleepe (quoth shee,) the rest of things, O gentlest of the Goddes,
Sweete sleepe, the peace of mynd, with whom crookt care is aye at oddes:
Which cherrishest mennes weery limbes appalld with toling sore,
And makest them as fresh to woork and lustye as beefore,
Commaund a dreame that in theyr kyndes can every thing expresse,
To Trachine, Hercles towne, himself this instant to addresse.
And let him lively counterfet to Queene Alcyonea
The image of her husband who is drowned in the sea
By shipwrecke. Juno willeth so. Her message beeing told,
Dame Iris went her way. Shee could her eyes no longer hold
From sleepe. But when shee felt it come shee fled that instant tyme,
And by the boawe that brought her downe to heaven ageine did clyme.
Among a thousand sonnes and mo that father slomber had
He calld up Morph, the feyner of mannes shape, a craftye lad.
None other could so conningly expresse mans verrye face,
His gesture and his sound of voyce, and manner of his pace,
Togither with his woonted weede, and woonted phrase of talk.
But this same Morphye onely in the shape of man dooth walk.
There is another who the shapes of beast or bird dooth take,
Or else appeereth unto men in likenesse of a snake.
The Goddes doo call him Icilos, and mortall folke him name
Phobetor. There is also yit a third who from theis same
Woorkes diversly, and Phantasos he highteth. Into streames
This turnes himself, and into stones, and earth, and timber beames,
And into every other thing that wanteth life. Theis three,
Great kings and Capteines in the night are woonted for to see.
The meaner and inferiour sort of others haunted bee.
Sir Slomber overpast the rest, and of the brothers all
To doo dame Iris message he did only Morphye call.
Which doone he waxing luskish, streyght layd downe his drowzy head
And softly shroonk his layzye limbes within his sluggish bed.
Away flew Morphye through the aire: no flickring made his wings:
And came anon to Trachine. There his fethers off he flings,
And in the shape of Ceyx standes before Alcyones bed,
Pale, wan, stark naakt, and like a man that was but lately deade.
His berde seemd wet, and of his head the heare was dropping drye,
And leaning on her bed, with teares he seemed thus to cry:
Most wretched woman, knowest thou thy loving Ceyx now
Or is my face by death disformd? behold mee well, and thow
Shalt know mee. For thy husband, thou thy husbandes Ghost shalt see.
No good thy prayers and thy vowes have done at all to mee.
For I am dead. In vayne of my returne no reckning make.
The dowdy sowth amid the sea our shippe did tardy take,
And tossing it with violent blastes asunder did it shake.
And floodes have filld my mouth which calld in vayne uppon thy name.
No persone whom thou mayst misdeeme brings tydings of the same.
Thou hearest not thereof by false report of flying fame.
But I myself: I presently my shipwrecke to thee showe.
Aryse therefore and wofull teares uppon thy spouse bestowe.
Put moorning rayment on, and let mee not to Limbo go
Unmoorned for. In shewing of this shipwrecke Morphye so
Did feyne the voyce of Ceyx, that shee could none other deeme,
But that it should bee his in deede. Moreover he did seeme
To weepe in earnest: and his handes the verry gesture had
Of Ceyx. Queene Alcyone did grone, and beeing sad
Did stirre her armes, and thrust them foorth his body to embrace.
In stead whereof shee caught but ayre. The teares ran downe her face.
Shee cryed, Tarry: whither flyste? togither let us go.
And all this whyle she was asleepe. Both with her crying so,
And flayghted with the image of her husbands gastly spryght,
She started up: and sought about if fynd him there shee myght.
(For why her Groomes awaking with the shreeke had brought a light.)
And when shee no where could him fynd, shee gan her face to smyght,
And tare her nyghtclothes from her brest, and strake it feercely, and
Not passing to unty her heare shee rent it with her hand.
And when her nurce of this her greef desyrde to understand
The cause: Alcyone is undoone, undoone and cast away
With Ceyx her deare spouse (shee sayd). Leave comforting I pray.
By shipwrecke he is perrisht: I have seene him: and I knew
His handes. When in departing I to hold him did pursew
I caught a Ghost: but such a Ghost as well discerne I myght
To bee my husbands. Nathelesse he had not to my syght
His woonted countenance, neyther did his visage shyne so bryght,
As heeretofore it had beene woont. I saw him, wretched wyght,
Starke naked, pale, and with his heare still wet: even verry heere
I saw him stand. With that shee lookes if any print appeere
Of footing where as he did stand uppon the floore behynd.
This this is it that I did feare in farre forecasting mynd,
When flying mee I thee desyrde thou shouldst not trust the wynd.
But syth thou wentest to thy death, I would that I had gone
With thee. Ah meete, it meete had beene thou shouldst not go alone
Without mee. So it should have come to passe that neyther I
Had overlived thee, nor yit beene forced twice to dye.
Already, absent in the waves now tossed have I bee.
Already have I perrished. And yit the sea hath thee
Without mee. But the cruelnesse were greater farre of mee
Than of the sea, if after thy decease I still would strive
In sorrow and in anguish still to pyne away alive.
But neyther will I strive in care to lengthen still my lyfe,
Nor (wretched wyght) abandon thee: but like a faythfull wyfe
At leastwyse now will come as thy companion. And the herse
Shall joyne us, though not in the selfsame coffin: yit in verse.
Although in tumb the bones of us togither may not couch,
Yit in a graven Epitaph my name thy name shall touch.
Her sorrow would not suffer her to utter any more.
Shee sobd and syghde at every woord, untill her hart was sore.
The morning came, and out shee went ryght pensif to the shore
To that same place in which shee tooke her leave of him before.
Whyle there shee musing stood, and sayd: He kissed mee even heere,
Heere weyed hee his Anchors up, heere loosd he from the peere.
And whyle shee calld to mynd the things there marked with her eyes:
In looking on the open sea, a great way off shee spyes
A certaine thing much like a corse come hovering on the wave.
At first shee dowted what it was. As tyde it neerer drave,
Although it were a good way off, yit did it plainely showe
To bee a corce. And though that whose it was shee did not knowe,
Yit forbycause it seemd a wrecke, her hart therat did ryse:
And as it had sum straunger beene, with water in her eyes
She sayd: Alas poore wretch who ere thou art, alas for her
That is thy wyfe, if any bee. And as the waves did stirre,
The body floted neerer land: the which the more that shee
Behilld, the lesse began in her of stayed wit to bee.
Anon it did arrive on shore. Then plainely shee did see
And know it, that it was her feere. Shee shreeked, It is hee.
And therewithall her face, her heare, and garments shee did teare,
And unto Ceyx stretching out her trembling handes with feare,
Sayd: cumst thou home in such a plyght to mee, O husband deere?
Returnst in such a wretched plyght? There was a certeine peere
That buylded was by hand, of waves the first assaults to breake,
And at the havons mouth to cause the tyde to enter weake.
Shee lept thereon. (A wonder sure it was shee could doo so)
Shee flew, and with her newgrowen winges did beate the ayre as tho.
And on the waves a wretched bird shee whisked to and fro.
And with her crocking neb then growen to slender bill and round,
Like one that wayld and moorned still shee made a moaning sound.
Howbee't as soone as she did touch his dumb and bloodlesse flesh,
And had embraast his loved limbes with winges made new and fresh,
And with her hardened neb had kist him coldly, though in vayne,
Folk dowt if Ceyx feeling it to rayse his head did strayne,
Or whither that the waves did lift it up. But surely hee
It felt: and through compassion of the Goddes both hee and shee
Were turnd to birdes. The love of them eeke subject to their fate,
Continued after: neyther did the faythfull bond abate
Of wedlocke in them beeing birdes: but standes in stedfast state.
They treade, and lay, and bring foorth yoong and now the Alcyon sitts
In wintertime uppon her nest, which on the water flitts
A sevennyght. During all which tyme the sea is calme and still,
And every man may to and fro sayle saufly at his will,
For Aeolus for his offsprings sake the windes at home dooth keepe,
And will not let them go abroade for troubling of the deepe.

An auncient father seeing them aabout the brode sea fly,
Did prayse theyr love for lasting to the end so stedfastly.
His neyghbour or the selfsame man made answer (such is chaunce):
Even this fowle also whom thou seest uppon the surges glaunce
With spindle shanks, (he poynted to the wydegoawld Cormorant)
Before that he became a bird, of royall race might vaunt.
And if thou covet lineally his pedegree to seeke,
His Auncetors were Ilus, and Assaracus, and eeke
Fayre Ganymed who Jupiter did ravish as his joy,
Laomedon and Priamus the last that reygnd in Troy.
Stout Hectors brother was this man. And had he not in pryme
Of lusty youth beene tane away, his deedes perchaunce in tyme
Had purchaast him as great a name as Hector, though that hee
Of Dymants daughter Hecuba had fortune borne to bee.
For Aesacus reported is begotten to have beene
By scape, in shady Ida on a mayden fayre and sheene
Whose name was Alyxothoe, a poore mans daughter that
With spade and mattocke for himselfe and his a living gat.
This Aesacus the Citie hates, and gorgious Court dooth shonne,
And in the unambicious feeldes and woods alone dooth wonne.
He seeldoom haunts the towne of Troy, yit having not a rude
And blockish wit, nor such a hart as could not be subdewd
By love, he spyde Eperie (whom oft he had pursewd
Through all the woodes) then sitting on her father Cebrius brim
A drying of her heare ageinst the sonne, which hanged trim
Uppon her back. As soone as that the Nymph was ware of him,
She fled as when the grisild woolf dooth scare the fearefull hynd
Or when the Fawcon farre from brookes a Mallard happes to fynd.
The Trojane knyght ronnes after her, and beeing swift through love,
Purseweth her whom feare dooth force apace her feete to move.
Behold an Adder lurking in the grasse there as shee fled,
Did byght her foote with hooked tooth, and in her bodye spred
His venim. Shee did cease her flyght and soodein fell downe dead.
Her lover being past his witts her carkesse did embrace,
And cryde: Alas it irketh mee, it irkes mee of this chace.
But this I feard not. Neyther was the gaine of that I willd
Woorth halfe so much. Now two of us thee (wretched soule) have killd.
The wound was given thee by the snake, the cause was given by mee.
The wickedder of both am I: who for to comfort thee
Will make thee satisfaction with my death. With that at last
Downe from a rocke (the which the waves had undermynde) he cast
Himself into the sea. Howbee't dame Tethys pitying him,
Receyvd him softly, and as he uppon the waves did swim,
Shee covered him with fethers. And though fayne he would have dyde,
Shee would not let him. Wroth was he that death was him denyde,
And that his soule compelld should bee ageinst his will to byde
Within his wretched body still, from which it would depart,
And that he was constreynd to live perforce ageinst his hart.
And as he on his shoulders now had newly taken wings,
He mounted up, and downe uppon the sea his boddye dings.
His fethers would not let him sinke. In rage he dyveth downe,
And despratly he strives himself continually to drowne.
His love did make him leane, long leggs: long neck dooth still remayne.
His head is from his shoulders farre: of Sea he is most fayne.
And for he underneath the waves delyghteth for to drive
A name according thereunto the Latins doo him give.

King Priam beeing ignorant that Aesacus his sonne
Did live in shape of bird, did moorne: and at a tumb wheron
His name was written, Hector and his brother solemly
Did keepe an Obit. Paris was not at this obsequye.
Within a whyle with ravisht wyfe he brought a lasting warre
Home unto Troy. There followed him a thowsand shippes not farre
Conspyrd togither, with the ayde that all the Greekes could fynd:
And vengeance had beene tane foorthwith but that the cruell wynd
Did make the seas unsaylable, so that theyr shippes were fayne
At rode at fisshye Awlys in B'aeotia to remayne.
Heere as the Greekes according to theyr woont made sacrifyse
To Jove, and on the Altar old the flame aloft did ryse,
They spyde a speckled Snake creepe up uppon a planetree bye
Uppon the toppe whereof there was among the braunches hye
A nest, and in the nest eyght birdes, all which and eeke theyr dam
That flickering flew about her losse, the hungry snake did cram
Within his mawe. The standers by were all amazde therat.
But Calchas, Thestors sonne, who knew what meening was in that,
Sayd: We shall win. Rejoyce, yee Greekes, by us shall perish Troy,
But long the tyme will bee before wee may our will enjoy.
And then he told them how the birds nyne yeeres did signifie
Which they before the towne of Troy not taking it should lye.
The Serpent as he wound about the boughes and braunches greene,
Became a stone, and still in stone his snakish shape is seene.
The seas continewed verry rough and suffred not theyr hoste
Imbarked for to passe from thence to take the further coast.
Sum thought that Neptune favored Troy bycause himself did buyld
The walles therof. But Calchas (who both knew, and never hilld
His peace in tyme) declared that the Goddesse Phebe must
Appeased bee with virgins blood for wrath conceyved just.
As soone as pitie yeelded had to cace of publicke weale,
And reason got the upper hand of fathers loving zeale,
So that the Ladye Iphigen before the altar stood
Among the weeping ministers, to give her maydens blood:
The Goddesse taking pitie, cast a mist before theyr eyes,
And as they prayd and stird about to make the sacrifyse,
Conveyes her quight away, and with a Hynd her roome supplyes.
Thus with a slaughter meete for her Diana beeing pleasd,
The raging surges with her wrath togither were appeasd,
The thousand shippes had wynd at poope. And when they had abode
Much trouble, at the length all safe they gat the Phrygian rode.
Amid the world tweene heaven, and earth, and sea, there is a place,
Set from the bounds of eche of them indifferently in space,
From whence is seene what ever thing is practisd any where,
Although the Realme bee nere so farre, and roundly to the eare
Commes whatsoever spoken is. Fame hath his dwelling there.
Who in the toppe of all the house is lodged in a towre.
A thousand entryes, glades, and holes are framed in this bowre.
There are no doores to shet. The doores stand open nyght and day.
The house is all of sounding brasse, and roreth every way,
Reporting dowble every woord it heareth people say.
There is no rest within, there is no silence any where.
Yit is there not a yelling out: but humming, as it were
The sound of surges beeing heard farre off, or like the sound
That at the end of thunderclappes long after dooth redound,
When Jove dooth make the clowdes to crack. Within the courts is preace
Of common people, which to come and go doo never ceace.
And millions both of trothes and lyes ronne gadding every where,
And woordes confusely flye in heapes. Of which, sum fill the eare
That heard not of them erst, and sum Colcaryers part doo play
To spread abrode the things they heard. And ever by the way
The thing that was invented growes much greater than before,
And every one that getts it by the end addes sumwhat more.
Lyght credit dwelleth there. There dwells rash error: there dooth dwell
Vayne joy: there dwelleth hartlesse feare, and Bruit that loves to tell
Uncertayne newes uppon report, whereof he dooth not knowe
The author, and Sedition who fresh rumors loves to sowe.

This Fame beholdeth what is doone in heaven, on sea, and land,
And what is wrought in all the world he layes to understand.
He gave the Trojans warning that the Greekes with valeant men
And shippes approched, that unwares they could not take them then.
For Hector and the Trojan folk well armed were at hand
To keepe the coast and bid them bace before they came aland.
Protesilay by fatall doome was first that dyde in feeld
Of Hectors speare: and after him great numbers mo were killd
Of valeant men. That battell did the Greeks full deerly cost.
And Hector with his Phrygian folk of blood no little lost,
In trying what the Greekes could doo. The shore was red with blood.
And now king Cygnet, Neptunes sonne, had killed where he stood
A thousand Greekes. And now the stout Achilles causd to stay
His Charyot: and his lawnce did slea whole bandes of men that day.
And seeking Cygnet through the feeld or Hector, he did stray.
At last with Cygnet he did meete. For Hector had delay
Untill the tenth yeare afterward. Then hasting foorth his horses
With flaxen manes, ageinst his fo his Chariot he enforces.
And brandishing his shaking dart, he sayd: O noble wyght,
A comfort let it bee to thee that such a valeant knyght
As is Achilles killeth thee. In saying so he threw
A myghty dart, which though it hit the mark at which it flew,
Yit perst it not the skinne at all. Now when this blunted blowe
Had hit on Cygnets brest, and did no print of hitting showe,
Thou, Goddesse sonne (quoth Cygnet), for by fame we doo thee knowe.
Why woondrest at mee for to see I can not wounded bee?
(Achilles woondred much thereat.) This helmet which yee see
Bedect with horses yellow manes, this sheeld that I doo beare,
Defend mee not. For ornaments alonly I them weare.
For this same cause armes Mars himself likewyse. I will disarme
Myself, and yit unrazed will I passe without all harme.
It is to sum effect, not borne to bee of Neryes race,
So that a man be borne of him that with threeforked mace :
Rules Nereus and his daughters too, and all the sea besyde.
This sayd, he at Achilles sent a dart that should abyde
Uppon his sheeld. It perced through the steele and through nyne fold
Of Oxen hydes, and stayd uppon the tenth. Achilles bold
Did wrest it out, and forcybly did throwe the same agayne.
His bodye beeing hit ageine, unwounded did remayne,
And cleere from any print of wound. The third went eeke in vayne.
And yit did Cygnet to the same give full his naked brist.
Achilles chafed like a Bull that in the open list
With dreadfull homes dooth push ageinst the scarlet clothes that there
Are hanged up to make him feerce, and when he would them teare
Dooth fynd his wounds deluded. Then Achilles lookt uppon
His Javelings socket, if the head thereof were looce or gone.
The head stacke fast. My hand byleeke is weakened then (quoth lice),
And all the force it had before is spent on one I see.
For sure I am it was of strength, both when I first downe threw
Lyrnessus walles, and when I did Ile Tenedos subdew,
And eeke Aetions Thebe with her proper blood embrew.
And when so many of the folke of Tewthranie I slew,
That with theyr blood Caycus streame became of purple hew.
And when the noble Telephus did of my Dart of steele
The dowble force, of wounding and of healing also feele.
Yea even the heapes of men slayne heere by mee, that on this strond
Are lying still to looke uppon, doo give to understond
That this same hand of myne both had and still hath strength. This sed,
(As though he had distrusted all his dooings ere that sted,)
He threw a Dart ageinst a man of Lycia land that hyght
Menetes, through whose Curets and his brest he strake him quyght.
And when he saw with dying limbes him sprawling on the ground,
He stepped to him streyght, and pulld the Javeling from the wound,
And sayd alowd: This is the hand, this is the selfsame dart
With which my hand did strike even now Menetes to the hart.
Ageinst my tother Copemate will I use the same: I pray
To God it may have like successe. This sed, without delay
He sent it toward Cygnet, and the weapon did not stray,
Nor was not shunned. Insomuch it lighted full uppon
His shoulder: and it gave a rappe as if uppon sum ston
It lyghted had, rebownding backe. Howbeeit where it hit,
Achilles sawe it bloodye, and was vaynly glad of it.
For why there was no wound. It was Menetes blood. Then lept
He hastly from his Charyot downe, and like a madman stept
To carelesse Cygnet with his swoord. He sawe his swoord did pare
His Target and his morion bothe. But when it toucht the bare,
His bodye was so hard, it did the edge thereof abate.
He could no lengar suffer him to tryumph in that rate,
But with the pommell of his swoord did thump him on the pate,
And bobd him well about the brewes a doozen tymes and more,
And preacing on him as he still gave backe amaazd him sore,
And troubled him with buffetting, not respetting a whit.
Then Cygnet gan to bee afrayd, and mistes beegan to flit
Before his eyes, and dimd his syght. And as he still did yeeld,
In giving back, by chaunce he met a stone amid the feeld,
Ageinst the which Achilles thrust him back with all his myght,
And throwing him ageinst the ground, did cast him bolt upryght.
Then bearing bostowsely with both his knees ageinst his chest,
And leaning with his elbowes and his target on his brest,
He shet his headpeece cloce and just, and underneathe his chin
So hard it straynd, that way for breath was neyther out nor in,
And closed up the vent of lyfe. And having gotten so
The upper hand, he went about to spoyle his vanquisht fo.
But nought he in his armour found. For Neptune had as tho
Transformd him to the fowle whose name he bare but late ago.