Metamorphoses

Ovid

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

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.