Metamorphoses

Ovid

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

Next him succeeded Silvius, whoose sonne Latinus hild
The auncient name and scepter which his graundsyre erst did weeld.
The famous Epit after this Latinus did succeede.
Then Capys and king Capetus. But Capys was indeede
The formest of the two. From this the scepter of the Realme
Descended unto Tyberine, whoo drowning in the streame
Of Tyber left that name thereto. This Tyberine begat
Feerce Remulus and Acrota. By chaunce it hapned that
The elder brother Remulus for counterfetting oft
The thunder, with a thunderbolt was killed from aloft.
From Acrota whoose stayednesse did passe his brothers skill,
The crowne did come to Aventine, whoo in the selfsame hill
In which he reygned buryed lyes, and left therto his name.
The rule of nation Palatine at length to Proca came.
In this Kings reigne Pomona livd. There was not to bee found
Among the woodnymphes any one in all the Latian ground
That was so conning for to keepe an Ortyard as was shee,
Nor none so paynefull to preserve the frute of every tree.
And theruppon shee had her name. Shee past not for the woodes
Nor rivers, but the villages and boughes that bare bothe buddes
And plentuous frute. In sted of dart a shredding hooke shee bare,
With which the overlusty boughes shee eft away did pare
That spreaded out too farre, and eft did make therwith a rift
To greffe another imp uppon the stocke within the clift.
And lest her trees should die through drought, with water of the springs
Shee moysteth of theyr sucking roots the little crumpled strings.
This was her love and whole delyght. And as for Venus deedes,
Shee had no mynd at all of them. And forbycause shee dreedes
Enforcement by the countrye folke, shee walld her yards about,
Not suffring any man at all to enter in or out.
What have not those same nimble laddes so apt to frisk and daunce
The Satyrs doone? Or what the Pannes that wantonly doo praunce
With horned forheads? And the old Silenus whoo is ay
More youthfull than his yeeres? And eeke the feend that scares away
The theeves and robbers with his hooke, or with his privy part
To winne her love? But yit than theis a farre more constant hart
Had sly Vertumnus, though he sped no better than the rest.
O Lord, how often being in a moawers garment drest,
Bare he in bundells sheaves of come? And when he so was dyght,
He was the verry patterne of a harvest moawer ryght.
Oft bynding newmade hay about his temples he myght seeme
A haymaker. Oft tymes in hand made hard with woork extreeme
He bare a goade, that men would sweere he had but newly then
Unyoakt his weerye Oxen. Had he tane in hand agen
A shredding hooke, yee would have thought hee had a gardener beene,
Or proyner of sum vynes. Or had you him with ladder seene
Uppon his necke, a gatherer of frute yee would him deeme.
With swoord a souldier, with his rod an Angler he did seeme.
And finally in many shapes he sought to fynd accesse
To joy the beawty but by syght, that did his hart oppresse.
Moreover, putting on his head a womans wimple gay,
And staying by a staffe, graye heares he foorth to syght did lay
Uppon his forehead, and did feyne a beldame for to bee,
By meanes wherof he came within her goodly ortyards free.
And woondring at the frute, sayd: Much more skill hast thou I see
Than all the Nymphes of Albula. Hayle, Lady myne, the flowre
Unspotted of pure maydenhod in all the world this howre.
And with that woord he kissed her a little: but his kisse
Was such as trew old women would have never given ywis.
Then sitting downe uppon a bank, he looked upward at
The braunches bent with harvests weyght. Ageinst him where he sat
A goodly Elme with glistring grapes did growe: which after hee
Had praysed, and the vyne likewyse that ran uppon the tree:
But if (quoth hee) this Elme without the vyne did single stand,
It should have nothing (saving leaves) to bee desyred: and
Ageine if that the vyne which ronnes uppon the Elme had nat
The tree to leane unto, it should uppon the ground ly flat.
Yit art not thou admonisht by example of this tree
To take a husband, neyther doost thou passe to maryed bee.
But would to God thou wouldest. Sure Queene Helen never had
Mo suters, nor the Lady that did cause the battell mad
Betweene the halfbrute Centawres and the Lapythes, nor the wyfe
Of bold Ulysses whoo was eeke ay fearefull of his lyfe,
Than thou shouldst have. For thousands now (even now most cheefly when
Thou seemest suters to abhorre) desyre thee, both of men,
And Goddes and halfgoddes, yea and all the fayryes that doo dwell
In Albane hilles. But if thou wilt bee wyse, and myndest well
To match thy self, and wilt give eare to this old woman heere,
(To whom thou more than to them all art (trust mee) leef and deere,
And more than thou thyself beleevst) the common matches flee,
And choose Vertumnus to thy make. And take thou mee to bee
His pledge. For more he to himself not knowen is, than to mee.
He roves not like a ronneagate through all the world abrode,
This countrye heerabout (the which is large) is his abode.
He dooth not (like a number of theis common wooers) cast
His love to every one he sees. Thou art the first and last
That ever he set mynd uppon. Alonly unto thee
Hee vowes himself as long as lyfe dooth last. Moreover hee
Is youthfull, and with beawtye sheene endewd by natures gift,
And aptly into any shape his persone he can shift.
Thou canst not bid him bee the thing, (though al things thou shouldst name)
But that he fitly and with ease will streyght becomme the same.
Besydes all this, in all one thing bothe twayne of you delyght,
And of the frutes that you love best the firstlings are his ryght:
And gladly he receyves thy gifts. But neyther covets hee
Thy Apples, Plommes, nor other frutes new gathered from the tree,
Nor yit the herbes of pleasant sent that in thy gardynes bee:
Nor any other kynd of thing in all the world, but thee.
Have mercy on his fervent love, and think himself to crave
Heere present by the mouth of mee, the thing that he would have.
And feare the God that may revenge: as Venus whoo dooth hate
Hard harted folkes, and Rhamnuse whoo dooth eyther soone or late
Expresse her wrath with myndfull wreake. And to th'entent thou may
The more beware, of many things which tyme by long delay
Hathe taught mee, I will shewe thee one which over all the land
Of Cyprus blazed is abrode, which being ryghtly skand
May easly bow thy hardned hart and make it for to yild.

One Iphis borne of lowe degree by fortune had behild
The Ladye Anaxarete descended of the race
Of Tewcer, and in vewwing her the fyre of love apace
Did spred it self through all his bones. With which he stryving long,
When reason could not conquer rage bycause it was too strong,
Came humbly to the Ladyes house: and one whyle laying ope
His wretched love before her nurce, besought her by the hope
Of Lady Anaxarete her nurcechylds good successe,
Shee would not bee ageinst him in that cace of his distresse.
Another whyle entreating fayre sum freend of hers, he prayd
Him earnestly with carefull voyce, of furthrance and of ayd.
Oftymes he did preferre his sute by gentle letters sent.
Oft garlonds moysted with the deawe of teares that from him went
He hanged on her postes. Oft tymes his tender sydes he layd
Ageinst the threshold hard, and oft in sadnesse did upbrayd
The locke with much ungentlenesse. The Lady crueller
Than are the rysing narrowe seas, or falling Kiddes, and farre
More hard than steele of Noricum, and than the stonny rocke
That in the quarrye hath his roote, did him despyse and mock.
Besyde her dooings mercylesse, of statelynesse and spyght
Shee adding prowd and skornefull woordes, defrauds the wretched wyght
Of verry hope. But Iphis now unable any more
To beare the torment of his greef, still standing there before
Her gate, spake theis his latest woordes: Well, Anaxarete,
Thou hast the upper hand. Hencefoorth thou shalt not neede to bee
Agreeved any more with mee. Go tryumph hardely:
Go vaunt thy self with joy: go sing the song of victorye:
Go put a crowne of glittring bay uppon thy cruell head.
For why thou hast the upper hand, and I am gladly dead.
Well, steely harted, well: rejoyce. Compeld yit shalt thou bee
Of sumwhat in mee for to have a lyking. Thou shalt see
A poynt wherein thou mayst mee deeme most thankfull unto thee,
And in the end thou shalt confesse the great desert of mee.
But yit remember that as long as lyfe in mee dooth last,
The care of thee shall never from this hart of myne be cast.
For bothe the lyfe that I doo live in hope of thee, and tother
Which nature giveth, shall have end and passe away toogither.
The tydings neyther of my death shall come to thee by fame.
Myself (I doo assure thee) will bee bringer of the same.
Myself (I say) will present bee that those same cruell eyen
Of thyne may feede themselves uppon this livelesse corce of myne.
But yit, O Goddes, (if you behold mennes deedes) remember mee.
(My toong will serve to pray no more) and cause that I may bee
Longtyme heerafter spoken of: and length the lyfe by fame
The which yee have abridgd in yeeres. In saying of this same
He lifted up his watrye eyes and armes that wexed wan
To those same stulpes which oft he had with garlondes deckt ere than,
And fastning on the topps therof a halter thus did say:
Thou cruell and ungodly wyght, theis are the wreathes that may
Most pleasure thee. And with that woord he thrusting in his head,
Even then did turne him towards her as good as being dead,
And wretchedly did totter on the poste with strangled throte.
The wicket which his feerefull feete in sprawling maynely smote,
Did make a noyse: and flying ope bewrayd his dooing playne.
The servants shreekt, and lifting up his bodye, but in vayne,
Conveyd him to his moothers house, his father erst was slayne.
His moother layd him in her lappe, and cleeping in her armes
Her sonnes cold bodye, after that shee had bewayld her harmes
With woordes and dooings mootherlyke, the corce with moorning cheere
To buryall sadly through the towne was borne uppon a beere.
The house of Anaxarete by chaunce was neere the way
By which this piteous pomp did passe. And of the doolefull lay
The sound came to the eares of her, whom God alreadye gan
To strike. Yit let us see (quoth shee) the buryall of this man.
And up the hygh wyde windowde house in saying so, shee ran.
Scarce had shee well on Iphis lookt that on the beere did lye,
But that her eyes wext stark: and from her limbes the blood gan flye.
In stead therof came palenesse in. And as shee backeward was
In mynd to go, her feete stacke fast and could not stirre. And as
Shee would have cast her countnance backe, shee could not doo it. And
The stonny hardnesse which alate did in her stomacke stand,
Within a whyle did overgrow her whole from sole to crowne.
And lest you think this geere surmysde, even yit in Salamin towne
Of Lady Anaxarete the image standeth playne.
The temple also in the which the image dooth remayne,
Is unto Venus consecrate by name of Looker Out.
And therfore weying well theis things, I prey thee looke about
Good Lady, and away with pryde: and be content to frame
Thy self to him that loveth thee and cannot quench his flame.
So neyther may the Lentons cold thy budding frutetrees kill
Nor yit the sharp and boystous wyndes thy flowring Gardynes spill.
The God that can uppon him take what kynd of shape he list
Now having sayd thus much in vayne, omitted to persist
In beldames shape, and shewde himself a lusty gentleman,
Appeering to her cheerefully, even like as Phebus whan
Hee having overcomme the clowdes that did withstand his myght,
Dooth blaze his brightsum beames agein with fuller heate and lyght.
He offred force, but now no force was needfull in the cace.
For why shee beeing caught in love with beawty of his face,
Was wounded then as well as hee, and gan to yeeld apace.