Metamorphoses

Ovid

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

It would bee overlong to tell eche profitable thing
That during this long lasting warre I well to passe did bring,
By force as well as pollycie. For after that the furst
Encounter once was overpast, our emnyes never durst
Give battell in the open feeld, but hild themselves within
Theyr walles and bulwarks till the tyme the tenth yeere did begin,
Now what didst thou of all that whyle, that canst doo nought but streeke?
Or to what purpose servedst thou? For if thou my deedes seeke,
I practysd sundry pollycies to trappe our foes unware:
I fortifyde our Camp with trench which heretofore lay bare:
I hartned our companions with a quiet mynd to beare
The longnesse of the weery warre: I taught us how wee were
Bothe to bee fed and furnished: and to and fro I went
To places where the Counsell thought most meete I should bee sent.
Behold the king deceyved in his dreame by false pretence
Of Joves commaundement, bade us rayse our seedge and get us hence.
The author of his dooing so may well bee his defence.
Now Ajax should have letted this, and calld them backe ageine
To sacke the towne of Troy. He should have fought with myght and maine.
Why did he not restreyne them when they ready were to go?
Why tooke he not his swoord in hand? why gave he not as tho
Sum counsell for the fleeting folk to follow at the brunt?
In fayth it had a tryfle beene to him that ay is woont
Such vaunting in his mouth to have. But he himself did fly
As well as others. I did see, and was ashamed, I,
To see thee when thou fledst, and didst prepare so cowardly
To sayle away. And thereuppon I thus aloud did cry:
What meene yee, sirs? what madnesse dooth you move to go to shippe
And suffer Troy as good as tane, thus out of hand to slippe?
What else this tenth yeere beare yee home than shame? with such like woord
And other, (which the eloquence of sorrowe did avoord,)
I brought them from theyr flying shippes. Then Agamemnon calld
Toogither all the capteines who with feare were yit appalld.
But Ajax durst not then once creake. Yit durst Thersites bee
So bold as rayle uppon the kings, and he was payd by mee
For playing so the sawcye Jacke. Then stood I on my toes
And to my fearefull countrymen gave hart ageinst theyr foes.
And shed new courage in theyr mynds through talk that fro mee goes.
From that tyme foorth what ever thing hath valeantly atcheeved
By this good fellow beene, is myne, whoo him from flyght repreeved.
And now to touche thee: which of all the Greekes commendeth thee?
Or seeketh thee? But Diomed communicates with mee
His dooings, and alloweth mee, and thinkes him well apayd
To have Ulysses ever as companion at the brayd.
And sumwhat woorth you will it graunt (I trow) alone for mee
Out of so many thousand Greekes by Diomed pikt to bee.
No lot compelled mee to go, and yit I setting lyght
As well the perrill of my foes as daunger of the nyght,
Killd Dolon who about the selfsame feate that nyght did stray,
That wee went out for. But I first compelld him to bewray
All things concerning faythlesse Troy, and what it went about.
When all was learnd, and nothing left behynd to harken out,
I myght have then come home with prayse. I was not so content.
Proceeding further to the Camp of Rhesus streyght I went,
And killed bothe himself and all his men about his tent.
And taking bothe his chariot and his horses which were whyght,
Returned home in tryumph like a conquerour from fyght.
Denye you mee the armour of the man whoose steedes the fo
Requyred for his playing of the spye a nyght, and so
May Ajax bee more kynd to mee than you are. What should I
Declare unto you how my sword did waste ryght valeantly
Sarpedons hoste of Lycia? I by force did overthrowe
Alastor, Crome, and Ceranos, and Haly on a rowe.
Alcander, and Noemon too, and Prytanis besyde,
And Thoon and Theridamas, and Charops also dyde
By mee, and so did Ewnomos enforst by cruell fate.
And many mo in syght of Troy I slew of bacer state.
There also are (O countrymen) about mee woundings, which
The place of them make beawtyfull. See heere (his hand did twich
His shirt asyde) and credit not vayne woordes. Lo heere the brist
That alwayes to bee one in your affayres hath never mist.
And yit of all this whyle no droppe of blood hath Ajax spent
Uppon his fellowes. Woundlesse is his body and unrent.
But what skills that, as long as he is able for to vaunt
He fought against bothe Troy and Jove to save our fleete? I graunt
He did so. For I am not of such nature as of spyght
Well dooings to deface: so that he chalendge not the ryght
Of all men to himself alone, and that he yeeld to mee
Sum share, whoo of the honour looke a partener for to bee.
Patroclus also having on Achilles armour, sent
The Trojans and theyr leader hence, to burne our navye bent.
And yit thinks hee that none durst meete with Hector saving hee,
Forgetting bothe the king, and eeke his brother, yea and mee.
Where hee himself was but the nyneth, appoynted by the king,
And by the fortune of his lot preferd to doo the thing.
But now for all your valeantnesse, what Issue had I pray
Your combate? Shall I tell? Forsoothe, that Hector went his way
And had no harme. Now wo is mee how greeveth it my hart
To think uppon that season when the bulwark of our part
Achilles dyde. When neyther teares, nor greef, nor feare could make
Mee for to stay, but that uppon theis shoulders I did take,
I say uppon theis shoulders I Achilles body tooke,
And this same armour claspt theron, which now to weare I looke.
Sufficient strength I have to beare as great a weyght as this,
And eeke a hart wherein regard of honour rooted is.
Think you that Thetis for her sonne so instantly besought
Sir Vulcane this same heavenly gift to give her, which is wrought
With such exceeding cunning, to th'entent a souldier that
Hath neyther wit nor knowledge should it weare? He knowes not what
The things ingraven on the sheeld doo meene. Of Ocean se,
Of land, of heaven, and of the starres no skill at all hath he.
The Beare that never dyves in sea he dooth not understand,
The Pleyads, nor the Hyads, nor the cities that doo stand
Uppon the earth, nor yit the swoord that Orion holdes in hand.
He seekes to have an armour of the which he hath no skill.
And yit in fynding fault with mee bycause I had no will
To follow this same paynfull warre and sought to shonne the same,
And made it sumwhat longer tyme before I thither came,
He sees not how hee speakes reproch to stout Achilles name.
For if to have dissembled in this case, yee count a cryme,
Wee both offenders bee. Or if protracting of the tyme
Yee count blame woorthye, yit was I the tymelyer of us twayne.
Achilles loving moother him, my wyfe did mee deteyne.
The former tyme was given to them, the rest was given to yow.
And therefore doo I little passe although I could not now
Defend my fault, sith such a man of prowesse, birth and fame
As was Achilles, was with mee offender in the same.
But yit was he espyed by Ulysses wit, but nat
Ulysses by sir Ajax wit. And lest yee woonder at
The rayling of this foolish dolt at mee, hee dooth object
Reproche to you. For if that I offended to detect
Sir Palamed of forged fault, could you without your shame
Arreyne him, and condemne him eeke to suffer for the same?
But neyther could sir Palamed excuse him of the cryme
So heynous and so manifest: and you your selves that tyme
Not onely his indytement heard, but also did behold
His deed avowched to his face by bringing in the gold.

And as for Philoctetes, that he is in Lemnos, I
Deserve not to bee toucht therwith. Defend your cryme: for why
You all consented therunto. Yit doo I not denye,
But that I gave the counsell to convey him out of way
From toyle of warre and travell that by rest he myght assay
To ease the greatnesse of his peynes. He did thereto obey
And by so dooing is alyve. Not only faythfull was
This counsell that I gave the man, but also happye, as
The good successe hath shewed since. Whom sith the destnyes doo
Requyre in overthrowing Troy, appoynt not mee thertoo:
But let sir Ajax rather go. For he with eloquence
Or by some suttle pollycie, shall bring the man fro thence
And pacyfie him raging through disease, and wrathfull ire.
Nay, first the river Simois shall to his spring retyre,
And mountaine Ida shall theron have stonding never a tree,
Yea and the faythlesse towne of Troy by Greekes shall reskewd bee,
Before that Ajax blockish wit shall aught at all avayle,
When my attempts and practyses in your affayres doo fayle.
For though thou, Philoctetes, with the king offended bee,
And with thy fellowes everychone, and most of all with mee,
Although thou cursse and ban mee to the hellish pit for ay,
And wisshest in thy payne that I by chaunce myght crosse thy way,
Of purpose for to draw my blood: yit will I give assay
To fetch thee hither once ageine. And (if that fortune say
Amen,) I will as well have thee and eeke thyne arrowes, as
I have the Trojane prophet whoo by mee surprysed was,
Or as I did the Oracles and Trojane fates disclose,
Or as I from her chappell through the thickest of her foes
The Phrygian Pallads image fetcht: and yit dooth Ajax still
Compare himself with mee. Yee knowe it was the destinyes will
That Troy should never taken bee by any force, untill
This Image first were got. And where was then our valeant knight
Sir Ajax? Where the stately woordes of such a hardy wyght?
Why feareth hee? Why dares Ulysses ventring through the watch
Commit his persone to the nyght his buysnesse to dispatch?
And through the pykes not only for to passe the garded wall
But also for to enter to the strongest towre of all
And for to take the Idoll from her Chappell and her shryne
And beare her thence amid his foes? For had this deede of myne
Beene left undoone, in vayne his sheeld of Oxen hydes seven fold
Should yit the Sonne of Telamon have in his left hand hold.
That nyght subdewed I Troy towne. That nyght did I it win,
And opened it for you likewyse with ease to enter in.
Cease to upbrayd mee by theis lookes and mumbling woordes of thyne
With Diomed: his prayse is in this fact as well as myne.
And thou thy selfe when for our shippes thou diddest in reskew stand,
Wart not alone: the multitude were helping thee at hand.
I had but only one with mee. Whoo (if he had not thought
A wyseman better than a strong, and that preferment ought
Not alway followe force of hand) would now himself have sought
This Armour. So would toother Ajax better stayed doo,
And feerce Ewrypyle, and the sonne of hault Andremon too.
No lesse myght eeke Idominey, and eeke Meriones,
His countryman, and Menelay. For every one of these
Are valeant men of hand, and not inferior unto thee
In martiall feates. And yit they are contented rulde to bee
By myne advyce. Thou hast a hand that serveth well in fyght.
Thou hast a wit that stands in neede of my direction ryght.
Thy force is witlesse. I have care of that that may ensew.
Thou well canst fyght: the king dooth choose the tymes for fyghting dew
By myne advyce. Thou only with thy body canst avayle.
But I with bodye and with mynd to profite doo not fayle,
And looke how much the mayster dooth excell the gally slave,
Or looke how much preheminence the Capteine ought to have
Above his souldyer: even so much excell I also thee.
A wit farre passing strength of hand inclosed is in mee.
In wit rests cheefly all my force. My Lordes, I pray bestowe
This gift on him who ay hath beene your watchman as yee knowe.
And for my tenne yeeres cark and care endured for your sake
Full recompence for my deserts with this same honour make.
Our labour draweth to an end, all lets are now by mee
Dispatched. And by bringing Troy in cace to taken bee
I have already taken it. Now by the hope that yee
Conceyve, within a whyle of Troy the mine for to see,
And by the Goddes of whom alate our emnyes I bereft,
And as by wisedome to bee doone yit any thing is left,
If any bold aventrous deede, or any perlous thing,
That asketh hazard both of lyfe and limb to passe to bring,
Or if yee think of Trojane fates there yit dooth ought remayne,
Remember mee. Or if from mee this armour you restrayne,
Bestowe it on this same. With that he shewed with his hand
Minervas fatall image, which hard by in syght did stand.
The Lords were moved with his woordes, and then appeared playne
The force that is in eloquence. The lerned man did gayne
The armour of the valeant. He that did so oft susteine
Alone both fyre, and swoord, and Jove, and Hector could not byde
One brunt of wrath. And whom no force could vanquish ere that tyde,
Now only anguish overcommes. He drawes his swoord and sayes:
Well: this is myne yit. Unto this no clayme Ulysses layes.
This must I use ageinst myself: this blade that heretofore
Hath bathed beene in Trojane blood, must now his mayster gore
That none may Ajax overcome save Ajax. With that woord
Into his brest (not wounded erst) he thrust his deathfull swoord.
His hand to pull it out ageine unable was. The blood
Did spout it out. Anon the ground bestayned where he stood,
Did breede the pretye purple flowre uppon a clowre of greene,
Which of the wound of Hyacinth had erst engendred beene.
The selfsame letters eeke that for the chyld were written than,
Were now againe amid the flowre new written for the man.
The former tyme complaynt, the last a name did represent.

Ulysses, having wonne the pryse, within a whyle was sent
To Thoants and Hysiphiles realme, the land defamde of old
For murthering all the men therin by women over bold.
At length attayning land and lucke according to his mynd,
To carry Hercles arrowes backe he set his sayles to wynd.
Which when he with the lord of them among the Greekes had brought,
And of the cruell warre at length the utmost feate had wrought,
At once both Troy and Priam fell. And Priams wretched wife
Lost (after all) her womans shape, and barked all her lyfe
In forreine countrye. In the place that bringeth to a streight
The long spred sea of Hellespont, did Ilion burne in height.
The kindled fyre with blazing flame continewed unalayd,
And Priam with his aged blood Joves Altar had berayd.
And Phebus preestesse casting up her handes to heaven on hye,
Was dragd and haled by the heare. The Grayes most spyghtfully
(As eche of them had prisoners tane in meede of victorye)
Did drawe the Trojane wyves away, who lingring whyle they mought
Among the burning temples of theyr Goddes, did hang about
Theyr sacred shrynes and images. Astyanax downe was cast
From that same turret from the which his moother in tyme past
Had shewed him his father stand oft fyghting to defend
Himself and that same famous realme of Troy that did descend
From many noble auncetors. And now the northerne wynd
With prosperous blasts, to get them thence did put the Greekes in mynd.
The shipmen went aboord, and hoyst up sayles, and made fro thence.
Adeew deere Troy (the women cryde), wee haled are from hence.
And therwithall they kist the ground, and left yit smoking still
Theyr native houses. Last of all tooke shippe ageinst her will
Queene Hecub: who (a piteous cace to see) was found amid
The tumbes in which her sonnes were layd. And there as Hecub did
Embrace theyr chists and kisse theyr bones, Ulysses voyd of care
Did pull her thence. Yit raught shee up, and in her boosom bare
Away a crum of Hectors dust, and left on Hectors grave
Her hory heares and teares, which for poore offrings shee him gave.
Ageinst the place where Ilion was, there is another land
Manured by the Biston men. In this same Realme did stand
King Polemnestors palace riche, to whom king Priam sent
His little infant Polydore to foster, to th'entent
He might bee out of daunger from the warres: wherin he ment
Ryght wysely, had he not with him great riches sent, a bayt
To stirre a wicked covetous mynd to treason and deceyt.
For when the state of Troy decayd, the wicked king of Thrace
Did cut his nurcechylds weazant, and (as though the sinfull cace
Toogither with the body could have quyght beene put away)
He threw him also in the sea. It happened by the way,
That Agamemnon was compeld with all his fleete to stay
Uppon the coast of Thrace, untill the sea were wexen calme,
And till the hideous stormes did cease, and furious wynds were falne.
Heere rysing gastly from the ground which farre about him brake,
Achilles with a threatning looke did like resemblance make
As when at Agamemnon he his wrongfull swoord did shake,
And sayd: Unmyndfull part yee hence of mee, O Greekes, and must
My merits thanklesse thus with mee be buryed in the dust?
Nay, doo not so. But to th'entent my death dew honour have,
Let Polyxene in sacrifyse bee slayne uppon my grave.
Thus much he sayd: and shortly his companions dooing as
By vision of his cruell ghost commaundment given them was,
Did fetch her from her mothers lappe, whom at that tyme, well neere,
In that most great adversitie alonly shee did cheere.
The haultye and unhappye mayd, and rather to bee thought
A man than woman, to the tumb with cruell hands was brought,
To make a cursed sacrifyse. Whoo mynding constantly
Her honour, when shee standing at the Altar prest to dye,
Perceyvd the savage ceremonies in making ready, and
The cruell Neoptolemus with naked swoord in hand
Stand staring with ungentle eyes uppon her gentle face,
She sayd: Now use thou when thou wilt my gentle blood. The cace
Requyres no more delay. Bestow thy weapon in my chest,
Or in my throte: (in saying so shee proferred bare her brest,
And eeke her throte). Assure your selves it never shalbee seene,
That any wyght shall (by my will) have slave of Polyxeene.
Howbee't with such a sacrifyse no God yee can delyght.
I would desyre no more but that my wretched moother myght
Bee ignorant of this my death. My moother hindreth mee,
And makes the pleasure of my death much lesser for to bee.
Howbeeit not the death of mee should justly greeve her hart:
But her owne lyfe. Now to th'entent I freely may depart
To Limbo, stand yee men aloof: and sith I aske but ryght
Forebeare to touch mee. So my blood unsteyned in his syght
Shall farre more acceptable been what ever wyght he bee
Whom you prepare to pacifye by sacrifysing mee.
Yit (if that these last woordes of myne may purchace any grace),
I, daughter of king Priam erst, and now in prisoners cace,
Beeseeche you all unraunsomed to render to my moother
My bodye: and for buriall of the same to take none other
Reward than teares: for whyle shee could shee did redeeme with gold.
This sayd: the teares that shee forbare the people could not hold.
And even the verry preest himself full sore ageinst his will
And weeping, thrust her through the brest which she hild stoutly still.
Shee sinking softly to the ground with faynting legges, did beare
Even to the verry latter gasp a countnance voyd of feare.
And when shee fell, shee had a care such parts of her to hyde,
As womanhod and chastitie forbiddeth to be spyde.
The Trojane women tooke her up, and moorning reckened
King Priams children, and what blood that house alone had shed.
They syghde for fayer Polyxeene: they syghed eeke for thee
Who late wart Priams wyfe, whoo late wart counted for to bee
The flowre of Asia in his flowre, and Queene of moothers all:
But now the bootye of the fo as evill lot did fall,
And such a bootye as the sly Ulysses did not passe
Uppon her, saving that erewhyle shee Hectors moother was.
So hardly for his moother could a mayster Hector fynd.
Embracing in her aged armes the bodye of the mynd
That was so stout, shee powrd theron with sobbing syghes unsoft
The teares that for her husband and her children had so oft
And for her countrye sheaded beene. Shee weeped in her wound
And kist her pretye mouth, and made her brist with shrekes to sound,
According to her woonted guyse, and in the jellyed blood
Beerayed all her grisild heare, and in a sorrowfull mood
Sayd theis and many other woordes with brest bescratcht and rent:

O daughter myne, the last for whom thy moother may lament,
(For what remaynes?) O daughter, thou art dead and gone. I see
Thy wound which at the verry hart strikes mee as well as thee.
And lest that any one of myne unwounded should depart,
Thou also gotten hast a wound. Howbee't bycause thou wart
A woman, I beleeved thee from weapon to bee free.
But notwithstanding that thou art a woman, I doo see
Thee slayne by swoord. Even he that kild thy brothers killeth thee,
Achilles, the decay of Troy and maker bare of mee.
What tyme that he of Paris shaft by Phebus meanes was slayne,
I sayd of feerce Achilles now no feare dooth more remayne.
But then, even then he most of all was feared for to bee.
The asshes of him rageth still ageinst our race I see.
Wee feele an emny of him dead and buryed in his grave.
To feede Achilles furie, I a frutefull issue gave.
Great Troy lyes under foote, and with a ryght great greevous fall
The mischeeves of the common weale are fully ended all.
But though to others Troy be gone, yit standes it still to mee:
My sorrowes ronne as fresh a race as ever and as free.
I late ago a sovereine state, advaunced with such store
Of daughters, sonnes, and sonneinlawes, and husband over more
And daughtrinlawes, am caryed like an outlawe bare and poore,
By force and violence haled from my childrens tumbes, to bee
Presented to Penelope a gift, who shewing mee
In spinning my appoynted taske, shall say: This same is shee
That was sumtyme king Priams wyfe, this was the famous moother
Of Hector. And now after losse of such a sort of other,
Thou (whoo alonly in my greefe my comfort didst remayne,)
To pacifye our emnyes wrath uppon his tumb art slayne.
Thus bare I deathgyfts for my foes. To what intent am I
Most wretched wyght remayning still? Why doo I linger? Why
Dooth hurtfull age preserve mee still alive? To what intent,
Yee cruell Goddes, reserve yee mee that hath already spent
Too manye yeeres, onlesse it bee new buryalls for to see?
And whoo would think that Priamus myght happy counted bee
Sith Troy is razed? Happy man is hee in being dead.
His lyfe and kingdoome he forwent toogither: and this stead
He sees not thee, his daughter, slaine. But peradventure thou
Shall like the daughter of a king have sumptuous buryall now,
And with thy noble auncetors thy bodye layd shall bee.
Our linage hath not so good lucke. The most that shall to thee
Bee yeelded are thy moothers teares, and in this forreine land
To hyde thy murthered corce withall a little heape of sand.
For all is lost. Nay yit remaynes (for whome I well can fynd
In hart to live a little whyle) an imp unto my mynd
Most deere, now only left alone, sumtyme of many mo
The yoongest, little Polydore, delivered late ago
To Polemnestor, king of Thrace, whoo dwelles within theis bounds.
But wherefore doo I stay so long in wasshing of her wounds,
And face berayd with gory blood? In saying thus, shee went
To seaward with an aged pace and hory heare beerent.
And (wretched woman) as shee calld for pitchers for to drawe
Up water, shee of Polydore on shore the carkesse sawe,
And eeke the myghty wounds at which the Tyrants swoord went thurrow.
The Trojane Ladyes shreeked out. But shee was dumb for sorrow.
The anguish of her hart forclosde as well her speech as eeke
Her teares devowring them within. Shee stood astonyed leeke
As if shee had beene stone. One whyle the ground shee staard uppon.
Another whyle a gastly looke shee kest to heaven. Anon
Shee looked on the face of him that lay before her killd.
Sumtymes his woundes, (his woundes I say) shee specially behilld.
And therwithall shee armd her selfe and furnisht her with ire:
Wherethrough as soone as that her hart was fully set on fyre,
As though shee still had beene a Queene, to vengeance shee her bent
Enforcing all her witts to fynd some kynd of ponnishment.
And as a Lyon robbed of her whelpes becommeth wood,
And taking on the footing of her emnye where hee stood,
Purseweth him though out of syght: even so Queene Hecubee
(Now having meynt her teares with wrath) forgetting quyght that shee
Was old, but not her princely hart, to Polemnestor went
The cursed murtherer, and desyrde his presence to th'entent
To shew to him a masse of gold (so made shee her pretence)
Which for her lyttle Polydore was hid not farre from thence.
The Thracian king beleeving her, as eager of the pray,
Went with her to a secret place. And as they there did stay,
With flattring and deceytfull toong he thus to her did say:
Make speede I prey thee, Hecuba, and give thy sonne this gold.
I sweare by God it shall bee his, as well that I doo hold
Already, as that thou shalt give. Uppon him speaking so,
And swearing and forswearing too, shee looked sternely tho,
And beeing sore inflaamd with wrath, caught hold uppon him, and
Streyght calling out for succor to the wyves of Troy at hand
Did in the traytors face bestowe her nayles, and scratched out
His eyes, her anger gave her hart and made her strong and stout.
Shee thrust her fingars in as farre as could bee, and did bore
Not now his eyes (for why his eyes were pulled out before)
But bothe the places of the eyes berayd with wicked blood.
The Thracians at theyr Tyrannes harme for anger wexing wood,
Began to scare the Trojane wyves with darts and stones. Anon
Queene Hecub ronning at a stone, with gnarring seazd theron,
And wirryed it beetweene her teeth. And as shee opte her chappe
To speake, in stead of speeche shee barkt. The place of this missehappe
Remayneth still, and of the thing there done beares yit the name.
Long myndfull of her former illes, shee sadly for the same
Went howling in the feeldes of Thrace. Her fortune moved not
Her Trojans only, but the Greekes her foes to ruthe: her lot
Did move even all the Goddes to ruthe: and so effectually,
That Hecub to deserve such end even Juno did denye.