Metamorphoses

Ovid

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

And in his lither hand he hilld a potte of wyne. Whom when
That Phorbas saw (although in vayne) not medling with them, then
He set his fingars to the thong: and saying: Thou shalt drink
Thy wyne with water taken from the Stygian fountaynes brink,
He threw his dart at him. The dart (as he that tyme by chaunce
Lay bolt upright uppon his backe) did through his throteboll glaunce.
He dyde and felt no payne at all. The blacke swart blood gusht out,
And on the bed and in the potte fell flushing lyke a spout.
I saw Petreius go about to pull out of the ground
An Oken tree. But as he had his armes about it round,
And shaakt it too and fro to make it looce, Pirithous cast
A Dart which nayled to the tree his wrything stomacke fast.
Through prowesse of Pirithous (men say) was Lycus slayne.
Through prowesse of Pirithous dyde Crome. But they both twayne
Lesse honour to theyr conquerour were, than Dyctis was, or than
Was Helops. Helops with a dart was striken, which through ran
His head, and entring at the ryght eare to the left eare went.
And Dyctis from a slipprye knappe downe slyding, as he ment
To shonne Perithous preacing on, fell headlong downe, and with
His hugenesse brake the greatest Ash that was in all the frith,
And goard his gutts uppon the stump. To wreake his death comes Phare:
And from the mount a mighty rocke with bothe his handes he tare:
Which as he was about to throwe, Duke Theseus did prevent,
And with an Oken plant uppon his mighty elbowe lent
Him such a blowe, as that he brake the bones, and past no further.
For leysure would not serve him then his maymed corce to murther.
He lept on hygh Bianors backe, who none was woont to beare
Besydes himself. Ageinst his sydes his knees fast nipping were,
And with his left hand taking hold uppon his foretoppe heare
He cuft him with his knubbed plant about the frowning face,
And made his wattled browes to breake. And with his Oken mace
He overthrew Nedimnus: and Lycespes with his dart,
And Hippasus whose beard did hyde his brest the greater part:
And Riphey tallar than the trees, and Therey who was woont
Among the hilles of Thessaly for cruell Beares to hunt,
And beare them angry home alyve. It did Demoleon spyght
That Theseus had so good successe and fortune in his fyght.
An old long Pynetree rooted fast he strave with all his myght
To pluck up whole bothe trunk and roote, which when he could not bring
To passe, he brake it off, and at his emnye did it fling.
But Theseus by admonishment of heavenly Pallas (so
He would have folke beleve it were) start backe a great way fro
The weapon as it came. Yit fell it not without some harme.
It cut from Crantors left syde bulke, his shoulder, brest, and arme.
This Grantor was thy fathers Squyre (Achilles) and was given
Him by Amyntor ruler of the Dolops, who was driven
By battell for to give him as an hostage for the peace
To bee observed faythfully. When Peleus in the preace
A great way off behilld him thus falne dead of this same wound,
O Grantor, deerest man to mee of all above the ground,
Hold heere an obitgift hee sayd: and both with force of hart
And hand, at stout Demoleons head he threw an asshen dart,
Which brake the watling of his ribbes, and sticking in the bone,
Did shake. He pulled out the steale with much adoo alone.
The head therof stacke still behynd among his lungs and lyghts.
Enforst to courage with his payne, he ryseth streight uprights,
And pawing at his emny with his horsish feete, he smyghts
Uppon him. Peleus bare his strokes uppon his burganet,
And fenst his shoulders with his sheeld, and evermore did set
His weapon upward with the poynt, which by his shoulders perst
Through both his brestes at one full blowe. Howbee't your father erst
Had killed Hyle and Phlegrye, and Hiphinous aloof
And Danes who boldly durst at hand his manhod put in proof.
To theis was added Dorylas, who ware uppon his head
A cap of woolves skinne. And the homes of Oxen dyed red
With blood were then his weapon. I (for then my courage gave
Mee strength) sayd: See how much thy homes lesse force than Iron have.
And therewithall with manly might a dart at him I drave.
Which when he could not shonne, he clapt his right hand flat uppon
His forehead where the wound should bee. For why his hand anon
Was nayled to his forehead fast. Hee roared out amayne.
And as he stood amazed and began to faynt for payne,
Your father Peleus (for he stood hard bv him) strake him under
The middle belly with his swoord, and ript his womb asunder.
Out girdes mee Dorill streyght, and trayles his guttes uppon the ground
And trampling underneath his feete did breake them, and they wound
About his leggs so snarling, that he could no further go,
But fell downe dead with empty womb. Nought booted Cyllar tho
His beawtye in that frentick fray, (at leastwyse if wee graunt
That any myght in that straunge shape, of natures beawtye vaunt.)
His beard began but then to bud: his beard was like the gold:
So also were his yellowe lokes, which goodly to behold
Midway beneath his shoulders hung. There rested in his face
A sharpe and lively cheerfulnesse with sweete and pleasant grace.
His necke, brest, shoulders, armes, and hands, as farre as he was man,
Were such as never carvers woork yit stayne them could or can.
His neather part likewyse (which was a horse) was every whit
Full equall with his upper part, or little woorse than it.
For had yee given him horses necke, and head, he was a beast
For Castor to have ridden on. So bourly was his brest:
So handsome was his backe to beare a saddle: and his heare
Was blacke as jeate, but that his tayle and feete milk whyghtish were.
Full many Females of his race did wish him to theyr make.
But only dame Hylonome for lover he did take.
Of all the halfbrutes in the woodes there did not any dwell
More comly than Hylonome. She usde herself so well
In dalyance, and in loving, and in uttring of her love,
That shee alone hilld Cyllarus. As much as did behove
In suchye limbes, shee trimmed them as most the eye might move.
With combing, smoothe shee made her heare: shee wallowed her full oft
In Roses and in Rosemarye, or Violets sweete and soft:
Sumtyme shee caryed Lillyes whyght: and twyce a day shee washt
Her visage in the spring that from the toppe of Pagase past:
And in the streame shee twyce a day did bath her limbes: and on
Her left syde or her shoulders came the comlyest things, and none
But fynest skinnes of choycest beasts. Alike eche loved other:
Togither they among the hilles roamd up and downe: togither
They went to covert: and that tyme togither they did enter
The Lapithes house, and there the fray togither did adventer.
A dart on Cyllars left syde came, (I know not who it sent)
Which sumwhat underneathe his necke his brest asunder splent.
As lyghtly as his hart was raazd, no sooner was the dart
Pluckt out, but all his bodye wext stark cold and dyed swart.
Immediatly Hylonome his dying limbes up stayd,
And put her hand uppon the wound to stoppe the blood, and layd
Her mouth to his, and labored sore to stay his passing spryght.
But when shee sawe him throughly dead, then speaking woordes which might
Not to my hearing come for noyse, shee stikt herself uppon
The weapon that had gored him, and dyde with him anon
Embracing him beetweene her armes.

There also stood before
Myne eyes the grim Pheocomes both man and horse who wore
A Lyons skinne uppon his backe fast knit with knotts afore.
He snatching up a timber log (which scarcely two good teeme
Of Oxen could have stird) did throwe the same with force extreeme
At Phonolenyes sonne. The logge him all in fitters strake,
And of his head the braynepan in a thousand peeces brake,
That at his mouth, his eares, and eyes, and at his nosethrills too,
His crusshed brayne came roping out as creame is woont to doo
From sives or riddles made of wood, or as a Cullace out
From streyner or from Colender. But as he went about
To strippe him from his harnesse as he lay uppon the ground,
(Your father knoweth this full well) my sword his gutts did wound,
Teleboas and Cthonius bothe, were also slaine by mee.
Sir Cthonius for his weapon had a forked bough of tree.
The tother had a dart. His dart did wound mee. You may see
The scarre therof remayning yit. Then was the tyme that I
Should sent have beene to conquer Troy. Then was the tyme that I
Myght through my force and prowesse, if not vanquish Hector stout,
Yit at the least have hilld him wag, I put you out of Dout.
But then was Hector no body: or but a babe. And now
Am I forspent and worne with yeeres. What should I tell you how
Piretus dyde by Periphas? Or wherefore should I make
Long processe for to tell you of sir Ampycus that strake
The fowrefoote Oecle on the face with dart of Cornell tree,
The which had neyther head nor poynt? Or how that Macaree
Of Mountaine Pelithronye with a leaver lent a blowe
To Erigdupus on the brest which did him overthrowe?
Full well I doo remember that Cymelius threw a dart
Which lyghted full in Nesseyes flank about his privie part.
And think not you that Mops, the sonne of Ampycus, could doo
No good but onely prophesye. This stout Odites whoo
Had bothe the shapes of man and horse, by Mopsis dart was slayne,
And labouring for to speake his last he did but strive in vayne.
For Mopsis dart togither nayld his toong and neather chappe,
And percing through his throte did make a wyde and deadly gappe.
Fyve men had Cene already slayne: theyr wounds I cannot say:
The names and nomber of them all ryght well I beare away.
The names of them were Stiphelus, and Brome, and Helimus,
Pyracmon with his forest bill, and stout Antimachus.
Out steppes the biggest Centawre there, huge Latreus, armed in
Alesus of Aemathias spoyle slayne late before by him.
His yeeres were mid tweene youth and age, his courage still was yoong,
And on his abrun head hore heares peerd heere and there amoong.
His furniture was then a swoord, a target and a lawnce
Aemathian like. To bothe the parts he did his face advaunce,
And brandishing his weapon brave, in circlewyse did prawnce
About, and stoutly spake theis woordes: And must I beare with yow,
Dame Cenye? for none other than a moother (I avow)
No better than a moother will I count thee whyle I live.
Remembrest not what shape by birth dame nature did thee give?
Forgettst thou how thou purchasedst this counterfetted shape
Of man? Consyderest what thou art by birth? and how for rape
Thou art become the thing thou art? Go take thy distaffe, and
Thy spindle, and in spinning yarne go exercyse thy hand.
Let men alone with feates of armes. As Latreus made this stout
And scornefull taunting in a ring still turning him about,
This Cenye with a dart did hit him full uppon the syde
Where as the horse and man were joyned togither in a hyde.
The strype made Latreus mad: and with his lawnce in rage he stracke
Uppon sir Cenyes naked ribbes. The lawnce rebounded backe
Like haylestones from a tyled house, or as a man should pat
Small stones uppon a dromslets head. He came more neere with that,
And in his brawned syde did stryve to thrust his swoord. There was
No way for swoord to enter in. Yit shalt thou not so passe
My handes (sayd he.) Well sith the poynt is blunted thou shalt dye
Uppon the edge: and with that woord he fetcht his blow awrye,
And sydling with a sweeping stroke along his belly smit.
The strype did give a clinke as if it had on marble hit.
And therewithall the swoord did breake, and on his necke did lyght.
When Ceny had sufficiently given Latreus leave to smyght
His flesh which was unmaymeable, Well now (quoth he) lets see,
If my swoord able bee or no to byght the flesh of thee.
In saying so, his dreadfull swoord as farre as it would go
He underneathe his shoulder thrust, and wrinching to and fro
Among his gutts, made wound in wound. Behold with hydeous crye
The dowblemembred Centawres sore abasht uppon him flye,
And throwe theyr weapons all at him. Theyr weapons downe did fall
As if they had rebated beene, and Cenye for them all
Abydes unstriken through. Yea none was able blood to drawe.
The straungenesse of the cace made all amazed that it sawe.
Fy, fy for shame (quoth Monychus) that such a rable can
Not overcome one wyght alone, who scarcely is a man.
Although (to say the very truthe) he is the man, and wee
Through fayntnesse that that he was borne by nature for to bee.
What profits theis huge limbes of ours? what helpes our dowble force?
Or what avayles our dowble shape of man as well as horse
By puissant nature joynd in one? I can not thinke that wee
Of sovereigne Goddesse Juno were begot, or that wee bee
Ixions sonnes, who was so stout of courage and so hault,
As that he durst on Junos love attempt to give assault.
The emny that dooth vanquish us is scarcely half a man
Whelme blocks, and stones, and mountaynes whole uppon his hard brayne pan:
And presse yee out his lively ghoste with trees. Let timber choke
His chappes, let weyght enforce his death in stead of wounding stroke.
This sayd: by chaunce he gets a tree blowne downe by blustring blasts
Of Southerne wynds, and on his fo with all his myght it casts,
And gave example to the rest to doo the like. Within
A whyle the shadowes which did hyde mount Pelion waxed thin:
And not a tree was left uppon mount Othris ere they went.
Sir Cenye underneathe this greate huge pyle of timber pent,
Did chauf and on his shoulders hard the heavy logges did beare.
But when above his face and head the trees up stacked were,
So that he had no venting place to drawe his breth: One whyle
He faynted: and another whyle he heaved at the pyle,
To tumble downe the loggs that lay so heavy on his backe,
And for to winne the open ayre ageine above the stacke:
As if the mountayne Ida (lo) which yoonder we doo see
So hygh, by earthquake at a tyme should chaunce to shaken bee.
Men dowt what did become of him. Sum hold opinion that
The burthen of the woodes had driven his soule to Limbo flat.
But Mopsus sayd it was not so. For he did see a browne
Bird flying from amid the stacke and towring up and downe.
It was the first tyme and the last that ever I behild
That fowle. When Mopsus softly saw him soring in the feeld,
He looked wistly after him, and cryed out on hye:
Hayle peerlesse perle of Lapith race, hayle Ceny, late ago
A valeant knyght, and now a bird of whom there is no mo.
The author caused men beleeve the matter to bee so.
Our sorrow set us in a rage. It was too us a greef
That by so many foes one knyght was killd without releef.
Then ceast wee not to wreake our teene till most was slaine in fyght,
And that the rest discomfited were fled away by nyght.