Of shapes transformde to bodies straunge, I purpose to entreate,
Ye gods vouchsafe (for you are they yt wrought this wodrous feate)
To further this mine enterprise. And from the world begunne,
Graunt that my verse may to my time, his course directly runne.
Before the Sea and Lande were made, and Heauen that all doth hide.
In all the worlde one onely face of nature did abide,
Which Chaos hight, a huge rude heape, and nothing else but euen
A heauie lump and clottred clod of seedes togither driuen,
Of things at strife among themselues, for want of order due.
No sunne as yet with lightsome beames the shapelesse world did vew.
No Moone in growing did repayre hir hornes with borowed light.
Nor yet the earth amiddes the ayre did hang by wondrous slight
Iust peysed by hir proper weight. Nor winding in and out
Did Amphitrytee with hir armes embrace the earth about.
For where was earth, was sea and ayre, so was the earth vnstable.
The ayre all darke, the sea likewise to beare a ship vnable.
No kinde of thing had proper shape, but ech confounded other.
For in one selfe same bodie stroue, the hote and colde togither.
The moyst with drie, the soft with hard, the light with things of weight.
This strife did God and Nature breake, and set in order streight.
The earth from heauen, the sea from earth, he parted orderly,
And from the thicke and foggie ayre, he tooke the lightsome skie.
Which when he once vnfolded had, and seuered from the blinde
And clodded heape. He setting eche from other did them binde
In endlesse friendship to agree. The fire most pure and bright,
The substance of the heauen it selfe, bicause it was so light
Did mount aloft, and set it selfe in highest place of all.
The second roume of right to ayre, for lightnesse did befall.
The earth more grosse drew down with it eche weighty kinde of matter,
And set it selfe in lowest place. Againe, the wauing water
Did lastly chalenge for his place, the vtmost coast and bound,
Of all the compasse of the earth, to close the stedfast ground.
Now when he in this foresaid wise (what God so ere he was)
Had broke and into members put this rude confused masse,
Then first bicause in euery part, the earth should equall bee,
He made it like a mighty ball, in compasse as we see.
And here and there he cast in seas, to whome he gaue a lawe:
To swell with euery blast of winde, and euery stormie flawe.
And with their waues continually to beate vpon the shore,
Of all the earth within their boundes enclosde by them afore.
Moreouer, Springs and mighty Meeres and Lakes he did augment,
And flowing streames of crooked brookes in winding bankes he pent.
Of which the earth doth drinke vp some, and some with restlesse race,
Do seeke the sea: where finding scope of larger roume and space,
In steade of bankes, they beate on shores. He did comaund the plaine
And champion groundes to stretch out wide: and valleys to remaine
Aye vnderneath: and eke the woods to hide them decently
With tender leaues: and stonie hilles to lift themselues on hie.
And as two Zones doe cut the Heauen vpon the righter side,
And other twaine vpon the left likewise the same deuide,
The middle in outragious heat exceeding all the rest:
Euen so likewise through great foresight to God it seemed best,
The earth encluded in the same should so deuided bee,
As with the number of the Heauen, hir Zones might full agree.
Of which the middle Zone in heate, the vtmost twaine in colde
Exceede so farre, that there to dwell no creature dare be bolde.
Betweene these two so great extremes, two other Zones are fixt,
Where temprature of heate and colde indifferently is mixt.
Now ouer this doth hang the Ayre, which as it is more sleightie
Than earth or water: so againe than fire it is more weightie.
There hath he placed mist and cloudes, and for to feare mens mindes,
The thunder and the lightning eke; with colde and blustring windes.
But yet the maker of the worlde permitteth not alway,
The windes to vse the ayre at will. For at this present day,
Though ech from other placed be in sundry coasts aside:
The violence of their boystrous blasts, things scarsly can abide.
They so turmoyle as though they would the world in pieces rende,
So cruell is those brothers wrath when that they doe contende.
And therefore to the morning graye, the Realme of Nabathie,
To Persis and to other lands and countries that doe lie
Farre vnderneath the Morning starre, did Eurus take his flight
Likewise the setting of the Sunne, and shutting in of night
Belong to Zephyr. And the blasts of blustring Boreas raigne,
In Scythia and in other landes set vnder Charles his waine.
And vnto Auster doth belong the coast of all the South,
Who beareth shoures and rotten mistes, continuall in his month.
Aboue all these he set aloft the cleare and lightsome skie,
Without all dregs of earthly filth or grossenesse vtterlie.
The boundes of things were scarsly yet by him thus pointed out,
But that appeared in the heauen, starres glistring all about,
Which in the said confused heape had hidden bene before,
And to thintent with liuely things eche Region for to store.
The heauenly soyle, to Gods and Starres and Planets first he gaue.
The waters next both fresh and salt he let the fishes haue.
The suttle ayre to flickring fowles and birdes he hath assignde.
The earth to beasts both wilde and tame him of sundrie sort and kinde.
Howbeit yet of all this while, the creature wanting was,
Farre more deuine, of nobler minde, which should the residue passe
In depth of knowledge, reason, wit, and high capacitie,
And which of all the residue should the Lord and ruler bee.
Then eyther he that made the worlde, and things in order set,
Of heauenly seede engendred Man: or else the earth as yet
Yong, lustie, fresh, and in hir floures, and parted from the skie,
But late before, the seede thereof as yet held inwardlie.
The which Prometheus tempring straight with water of the spring,
Did make in likenesse to the Gods that gouerne euerie thing.
And where all other beasts behold the ground with groueling eie,
He gaue to Man a stately looke replete with maiestie.
And willde him to behold the Heauen wyth countnance cast on hie,
To marke and vnderstand what things were in the starrie skie:
And thus the earth which late before had neyther shape nor hew,
Did take the noble shape of man, and was transfoormed new.
Then sprang vp first the golden age, which of it selfe maintainde,
The truth and right of euery thing vnforst and vuconstrainde.
There was no feare of punishment, there was no threatning lawe
In brazen tables nayled vp, to keepe the folke in awe.
There was no man would crouch or creepe to Iudge with cap in hand,
They liued safe without a Iudge, in euerie Realme and lande.
The loftie Pynetree was not hewen from mountaines where it stood,
In seeking straunge and forren landes, to roue vpon the flood.
Men knew none other countries yet, than where themselues did keepe:
There was no towne enclosed yet, with walles and diches deepe.
No horne nor trumpet was in vse, no sword nor helmet worne,
The worlde was suche, that souldiers helpe might easly be forborne.
The fertile earth as yet was free, vntoucht of spade or plough,
And yet it yeelded of it selfe of euery things inough.
And men themselues contented well with plaine and simple foode,
That on the earth of natures gift without their trauell stoode,
Did liue by Raspis, heppes & hawes, by cornelles, plummes and cherries,
By sloes and apples, nuttes and peares, and lothsome bramble berries,
And by the acornes dropt on ground, from Ioues brode tree in fielde.
The Springtime lasted all the yeare, and Zephyr with his milde
And gentle blast did cherish things that grew of owne accorde,
The ground vntilde, all kinde of fruits did plenteously auorde.
No mucke nor tillage was bestowde on leane and barren land,
To make the corne of better head, and ranker for to stand.
The streames ran milke, then streames ran wine, & yellow honny flowde
From ech greene tree whereon the rayes of firie Phebus glowde.
But when that into Lymbo once Saturnus being thrust,
The rule and charge of all the worlde was vnder Ioue vniust,
And that the siluer age came in, more somewhat base than golde,
More precious yet than freckled brasse, immediatly the olde
And auncient Spring did Ioue abridge, and made therof anon,
Foure seasons: Winter, Sommer, Spring, and Autumne of and on.
Then first of all began the ayre with feruent heate to swelt.
Then Isycles hung roping downe: then for the colde was felt
Men gan to shroud themselues in house. their houses were the thickes,
And bushie queaches, hollow caues, or hardels made of stickes.
Then first of all were furrowes drawne, and corne was cast in ground.
The simple Oxe with sorie sighes, to heauie yoke was bound.
Next after this succeded streight, the third and brazen age:
More hard of nature, somewhat bent to cruell warres and rage.
But yet not wholy past all grace. Of yron is the last
In no part good and tractable as former ages past.
For when that of this wicked Age once opened was the veyne
Therein all mischief rushed forth. then Fayth and Truth were faine
And honest shame to hide their heades: for whom stept stoutly in,
Craft, Treason, Uiolence, Enuie, Pride and wicked Lust to win.
The shipman hoyst his sailes to wind, whose names he did not knowe:
And shippes that erst in toppes of hilles and mountaines had ygrowe,
Did leape and daunce on vncouth waues: and men began to bound,
With dowles and diches drawen in length the free and fertile ground,
Which was as common as the Ayre and light of Sunne before.
Not onely corne and other fruites, for sustnance and for store,
Were now exacted of the Earth: but eft thy gan to digge,
And in the bowels of the ground vnsaciably to rigge.
For Riches coucht and hidden deepe, in places nere to Hell,
The spurres and stirrers vnto vice, and foes to doing well.
Then hurtfull yron came abrode, then came forth yellow golde,
More hurtfull than the yron farre, then came forth battle bolde,
That feightes with bothe, and shakes his sword in cruell bloudy hand.
Men liue by rauine and by stelth: the wandring guest doth stand
In daunger of his host: the host in daunger of his guest:
And fathers of their sonne in lawes: yea seldome time doth rest,
Betweene borne brothers such accord and loue as ought to bee.
The goodman seekes the goodwiues death, and his againe seekes shee.
The stepdames fell their husbandes sonnes, with poyson do assayle.
To see their fathers liue so long the children doe bewayle.
All godlynesse lies vnder foote. And Ladie Astrey last
Of heauenly vertues, from this earth in slaughter drowned past.
And to thintent the earth alone thus should not be opprest,
And heauen aboue in slouthfull ease and carelesse quiet rest,
Men say that Giantes went about the Realme of Heauen to win
To place themselues to raigne as Gods and lawlesse Lordes therein.
And hill on hill they heaped vp aloft vnto the skie,
Till God almighty from the Heauen did let his thunder flie.
The dint whereof the ayrie tops of high Olympus brake,
And pressed Pelion violently from vnder Ossa strake.
When whelmed in their wicked worke those cursed Caitiues lay,
The Earth their mother tooke their bloud yet warme and (as they say)
Did giue it life. And for bicause some ympes should still remaine
Of that same stocke, she gaue it shape and limmes of men againe.
This ofspring eke against the Gods did beare a natiue spight,
In slaughter and in doing wrong was all their whole delight.
Their deedes declared them of bloud engendred for to bee.
The which as soone as Saturns sonne from Heauen aloft did see,
He fetcht a sigh, and therwithall reuoluing in his thought
The shamefull act which at a feast Lycaon late had wrought,
As yet vnknowne or blowne abrode: He gan thereat to storme
And stomacke like an angry Ioue. And therfore to reforme
Such haynous actes, he sommonde streight his Court of Parliament,
Whereto resorted all the Gods that had their sommons sent.
Highe in the Welkin is a way apparant to the sight.
In starrie nights, which of his passing whitenesse milkie hight:
It is the streete that to the Court and Princely Pallace leades,
Of mightie Ioue whose thunderclaps eche liuing creature dreades.
On both the sides of this same waye do stand in stately port
The sumptuous houses of the Pieres. For all the common sort
Dwell scattring here and there abrode: the face of all the skie,
The houses of the chiefe estates and Princes doe supplie.
And sure and if I may be bolde to speake my fancie free
I take this place of all the Heauen the Pallace for to bee.
Now when the Goddes assembled were, and eche had tane his place,
Ioue standing vp aloft and leaning on his yuorie Mace,
Right dreadfully his bushie lockes did thrise or four times shake.
Wherewith he made both Sea and Land & Heauen it self to quake,
And afterward in wrathfull wordes his angrie minde thus brake.
I neuer was in greater care nor more perplexitie,
How to maintaine my soueraigne state and Princelie royaltie,
When with their hundreth handes a piece the Adderfooted rout,
Did practise for to conquere Heauen and for to cast vs out.
For though it were a cruell foe: yet did that warre depende
Upon one ground, and in one stocke it had his finall ende.
But now as farre as any sea about the worlde doth winde,
I must destroy both man and beast and all the mortall kinde.
I sweare by Styxes hideous streames that run within the ground,
All other meanes must first be sought: but when there can be found
No helpe to heale a festred sore, it must away be cut,
Least that the partes that yet are sound, in daunger should be put.
We haue a number in the worlde that mans estate surmount,
Of such whom for their priuate Gods the countrie folkes account,
As Satyres, Faunes, and sundry Nymphes, with Siluanes eke beside,
That in the woods and hillie grounds continually abide.
Whome into Heauen since that as yet we vouch not safe to take,
And of the honour of this place copartners for to make,
Such landes as to inhabite in, we erst to them assignde,
That they should still enioye the same, It is my will and minde?
But can you thinke that they in rest and safetie shall remaine?
When proud Lycaon laye in waite by secret meanes and traine:
To haue confounded me your Lorde, who in my hand doe beare
The dreadfull thunder, and of whome euen you doe stand in feare?
The house was moued at his words and earnestly requirde,
The man that had so traiterously against their Lord conspirde.
Euen so when Rebels did arise to stroy the Romane name,
By shedding of our Cesars bloud, the horror of the same,
Did pierce the heartes of all mankinde, and made the world to quake.
Whose feruent zeale in thy behalfe (O August) thou did take,
As thankfully as Ioue doth heare the louing care of his.
Who beckning to them with his hand, forbiddeth them to hisse.
And therewithall through all the house attentiue silence is.
Assoone as that his maiestie all muttring had alayde,
He brake the silence once againe, and thus vnto them sayde.
Let passe this carefull thought of yours: for he that did offende,
Hath dearely bought the wicked Act, the which he did entende.
Yet shall you heare what was his fault and vengeance for the same.
A foule report and infamie vnto our hearing came,
Of mischiefe vsed in those times: which wishing all vntrew
I did descend in shape of man, th' infamed Earth to vew.
It were a processe ouerlong to tell you of the sinne,
That did abound in euery place where as I entred in.
The brute was lesser than the truth, and partiall in report.
The dreadfull dennes of Menalus where sauage beastes resort
And Cyllen had I ouerpast, with all the Pynetrees hie,
Of cold Lyceus, and from thence I entred by and by
The herbroughlesse and cruell house of late Th' arcadian King,
Such time as twilight on the Earth dim darknesse gan to bring.
I gaue a signe that God was come, and streight the common sort
Deuoutly prayde, whereat Lycaon first did make a sport
And after said by open proufe, ere long I minde to see,
If that this wight a mighty God or mortall creature bee.
The truth shall trie it selfe: he ment (the sequele did declare)
To steale vpon me in the night, and kyll me vnbeware.
And yet he was not so content: but went and cut the throte,
Of one that laye in hostage there, which was an Epyrote:
And part of him he did to rost, and part he did to stewe.
Which when it came vpon the borde, forthwith I ouerthrew,
The house with iust reuenging fire vpon the owners hed.
Who seeing that, slipt out of doores amazde for feare, and fled
Into the wilde and desert woods, where being all alone,
As he endeuorde (but in vaine) to speake and make his mone,
He fell a howling: wherewithall for verie rage and moode
He ran me quite out of his wits and waxed furious woode.
Still practising his wonted lust of slaughter on the poore
And sielie cattle, thirsting still for bloud as heretofore.
His garments turnde to shackie haire, his armes to rugged pawes:
So is he made a rauening Wolfe: whose shape expressely drawes
To that the which he was before: his skinne is horie graye,
His looke still grim with glaring eyes, and euery kinde of waye,
His cruell heart in outward shape doth well it selfe bewraye.
Thus was one house destroyed quite. but that one house alone
Deserueth not to be destroyde, in all the Earth is none,
But that such vice doth raigne therein, as that ye would beleue,
That all had sworne and solde themselues to mischiefe vs to greue.
And therefore as they all offende: so am I fully bent,
That all forthwith (as they deserue) shall haue due punishment.
These wordes of Ioue some of the Gods did openly approue,
And with their sayings more to wrath his angry courage moue.
And some did giue assent by signes. Yet did it grieue them all
That such destruction vtterly on all mankinde should fall.
Demaunding what he purposed with all the Earth to doe,
When that he had all mortall men so cleane destroyde, and whoe
On holie Altars afterward should offer frankinsence,
And whother that he were in minde to leaue the Earth fro thence
To sauage beastes to wast and spoyle, bicause of mans offence.
The king of Gods bade cease their thought & questions in that case,
And cast the care thereof on him. within a little space,
He promist for to frame a newe, an other kinde of men
By wondrous meanes, vnlike the first to fill the world agen.
And now his lightning had he thought on all the earth to throw.
But that he feared least the flames perhaps so hie should grow
As for to set the Heauen on fire, and burne vp all the skie.
He did remember furthermore how that by destinie,
A certaine time should one day come, wherein both Sea and Lond
And Heauen it selfe shoulde feele the force of Vulcans scorching brond.
So that the huge and goodly worke of all the worlde so wide
Should go to wrecke, for doubt whereof forthwith he laide aside
His weapons that the Cyclops made, intending to correct,
Mans trespasse by a punishment contrary in effect.
And namely with incessant showres from heauen ypoured downe,
He did determine with himselfe, the mortall kinde to drowne.
In Aeölus prison by and by he fettred Boreas fast,
With al such winds as chase ye cloudes or breake the with their blast,
And set at large the Southerne winde: who straight with watry wings
And dreadfull face as blacke as pitch, forth out of prison flings.
His beard hung full of hideous stormes, all dankish was his head,
With water streaming downe his haire that on his shoulders shead.
His vgly forehead wrinkled was with foggie mistes full thicke,
And on his fethers and his breast a stilling dew did sticke.
Assoone as he betweene his hands the hanging cloudes had crusht,
With ratling noyse adowne from heauen the raine full sadly gusht.
The Rainbow Iunos messenger bedect in sundrie hue,
To maintaine moysture in the cloudes, great waters thither drue:
The corne was beaten to the grounde, the Tilmans hope of gaine,
For which he toyled all the yeare, lay drowned in the raine.
Ioues indignation and his wrath began to grow so hot.
That for to quench the rage thereof, his Heauen suffisde not.
His brother Neptune with his waues was faine to doe him ease:
Who straight assembling all the streames, that fall into the seas,
Said to them standing in his house: Sirs get you home apace,
(You must not looke to haue me vse, long preaching in this case.)
Poure out your foree (for so is neede) your heads ech one vnpende,
And from your open springs, your streames with flowing waters sende.
He had no sooner said the word, but that returning backe,
Eche one of them vnlosde his spring, and let his waters slacke.
And to the Sea with flowing streames yswolne aboue their bankes,
One rolling in anothers necke, they rushed forth by rankes.
Himselfe with his threetyned Mace, did lend the earth a blow,
That made it shake and open wayes for waters forth to flow.
The flouds at randon where they list, through all the fields did stray,
Men, beastes, trees, corne, & with their gods, were Churches washt away.
If any house were built so strong, against their force to stonde
Yet did the water hide the top: and turrets in that ponde
Were ouerwhelmde: no difference was betweene the sea and ground,
For all was sea: there was no shore nor landing to be found.
Some climbed vp to tops of hils, and some rowde to and fro
In Botes, where they not long before, to plough and Cart did go,
One ouer corne and tops of townes, whome waues did ouerwhelme,
Doth saile in ship, an other sittes a fishing in an Elme.
In meddowes greene were Anchors cast (so fortune did prouide)
And crooked ships did shadow vynes, the which the floud did hide.
And where but tother day before did feede the hungry Cote,
The vgly Seales and Porkepisces now to and fro did flote.
The Seanymphes wondred vnder waues the townes and groues to see,
And Dolphines playd among the tops and boughes of euery tree.
The grim and greedy Wolfe did swim among the siely sheepe,
The Lion and the Tyger fierce were borne vpon the deepe.
It booted not the foming Boare his crooked tuskes to whet,
The running Hart coulde in the streame by swiftnesse nothing get.
The fleeting fowles long hauing sought for land to rest vpon,
Into the Sea with werie wings were driuen to fall anon.
Th' outragious swelling of the Sea the lesser hillockes drownde,
Unwonted waues on highest tops of mountaines did rebownde.
The greatest part of men were drownde, and such as scapte the floode,
Forlorne with fasting ouerlong did die for want of foode.
Against the fieldes of Aonie and Atticke lies a lande,
That Phocis hight, a fertile ground while that it was a lande:
But at that time a part of Sea, and euen a champion fielde,
Of sodaine waters which the floud by forced rage did yeelde.
Where as a hill with forked top the which Parnasus hight,
Doth pierce the cloudes and to the starres doth raise his head vpright.
When at this hill (for yet the Sea had whelmed all beside)
Deucalion and his bedfellow, without all other guide,
Arriued in a little Barke immediatly they went,
And to the Nymphes of Corycus with full deuout intent
Did honor due, and to the Gods to whome that famous hill
Was sacred, and to Themis eke in whose most holie will
Consisted then the Oracles. In all the world so rounde:
A better nor more righteous man could neuer yet be founde
Than was Deucalion, nor againe a woman mayde nor wife,
That feared God so much as shee, nor led so good a life.
When Ioue behelde how all the worlde stoode lyke a plash of raine,
And of so many thousand men and women did remaine
But one of eche, howbeit those both iust and both deuout,
He brake the Cloudes, and did commaund that Boreas with his stout
And sturdie blasts should chase the floud, that Earth might see the skie
And Heauen the Earth: the Seas also began immediatly
Their raging furie for to cease. Their ruler laide awaye
His dreadfull Mace, and with his wordes their woodnesse did alaye.
He called Tryton to him straight his trumpetter, who stoode
In purple robe on shoulder cast, aloft vpon the floode.
And bade him take his sounding Trumpe and out of hand to blow
Retreat, that all the streames might heare, and rease from thence to flow.
He tooke his Trumpet in his hand, hys Trumpet was a shell
Of some great Whelke or other fishe, in facion like a Bell
That gathered narrow to the mouth, and as it did descende.
Did waxe more wide and writhen still, downe to the nether ende:
When that this Trumpe amid the Sea was set to Trytons mouth,
He blew so loude that all the streames both East, West, North & South,
Might easly heare him blow retreate, and all that heard the sounde
Immediatly began to ebbe and draw within their bounde.
Then gan the Sea to haue a shore, and brookes to finde a banke,
And swelling streames of flowing flouds within hir chanels sanke.
Then hils did rise aboue the waues that had them ouerflow,
And as the waters did decrease the ground did seeme to grow.
And after long and tedious time the trees did shew their tops
All bare, saue that vpon the boughes the mud did hang in knops.
The worlde restored was againe, which though Deucalion ioyde
Then to beholde: yet forbicause he saw the earth was voyde
And silent like a wildernesse, with sad and weeping eyes
And ruthfull voyce he then did speake to Pyrrha in this wise.
O sister, O my louing spouse, O sielie woman left,
As onely remnant of thy sexe that water hath bereft.
Whome Nature first by right of birth hath linked to me fast
In that we brothers children bene: and secondly the chast
And stedfast bond of lawfull bed: and lastly now of all,
The present perils of the time that latelye did befall.
On all the Earth from East to West where Phebus shewes his face
There is no moe but thou and I of all the mortall race.
The Sea hath swallowed all the rest: and scarsly are we sure,
That our two liues from dreadfull death in safetie shall endure.
For euen as yet the duskie cloudes doe make my heart adrad.
Alas poore wretched sielie soule, what heart wouldst thou haue had?
To beare these heauie happes, if chaunce had let thee scape alone?
Who should haue bene thy cofort then? who should haue rewd thy mone?
Now trust me truly louing wife had thou as now bene drownde,
I would haue followed after thee and in the sea bene fownde.
Would God I could my fathers Arte, of claye to facion men
And giue them life that people might frequent the world agen.
Mankinde (alas) doth onely now wythin vs two consist,
As mouldes whereby to facion men. For so the Gods doe lyst.
And with these words the bitter teares did trickle down their cheeke,
Untill at length betweene themselues they did agree to seeke
To God by prayer for his grace, and to demaund his ayde
By aunswere of his Oracle. wherein they nothing stayde.
But to Cephisus sadly went, whose streame as at that time
Began to run within his bankes though thicke with muddie slime,
Whose sacred liquor straight they tooke and sprinkled with the same
Their heads and clothes: and afterward to Themis chappell came,
The roofe whereof with cindrie mosse was almost ouergrowne.
For since the time the raging floud, the worlde had ouerflowne,
No creature came within the Churche: so that the Altars stood
Without one sparke of holie fyre or any sticke of wood.
Assoone as that this couple came within the chappell doore,
They fell downe flat vpon the ground, and trembling kist the floore.
And sayde: if prayer that proceedes from humble heart and minde
May in the presence of the Gods, such grace and fauor finde
As to appease their worthie wrath, then vouch thou safe to tell
(O gentle Themis) how the losse that on our kinde befell,
May now eftsoones recouered be, and helpe vs to repaire
The world, which drowned vnder waues doth lie in great dispaire.
The Goddesse moued with their sute, this answere did them make:
Depart you hence: Go hille your heads, and let your garmentes slake,
And both of you your Graundames bones behind your shoulders cast.
They stoode amazed at these wordes, tyll Pyrrha at the last,
Refusing to obey the hest the whych the Goddesse gaue,
Brake silence, and with trembling cheere did meekely pardon craue.
For sure she saide she was afraide hir Graundames ghost to hurt
By taking vp hir buried bones to throw them in the durt.
And with the aunswere here vpon eftsoones in hand they go,
The doubtfull wordes wherof they scan and canuas to and fro.
Which done, Prometheus sonne began by counsell wise and sage
His cousin germanes fearfulnesse thus gently to asswage.
Well, eyther in these doubtfull words is hid some misterie,
Whereof the Gods permit vs not the meaning to espie,
Or questionlesse and if the sence of inward sentence deeme
Like as the tenour of the words apparantly doe seeme,
It is no breach of godlynesse to doe as God doth bid.
I take our Graundame for the earth, the stones within hir hid
I take for bones, these are the bones the which are meaned here.
Though Titans daughter at this wise coniecture of hir fere
Were somewhat moued, yet none of both did stedfast credit geue,
So hardly could they in their heartes the heauenly hestes beleue.
But what and if they made a proufe? what harme could come therby?
They went their wayes and veild their heades, and did their cotes vntie.
And at their backes did throw the stones by name of bones foretolde.
The stones (who would beleue the thing, but that the time of olde
Reportes it for a stedfast truth?) of nature tough and harde,
Began to warre both soft and smothe: and shortly afterwarde
To winne therwith a better shape: and as they did encrease,
A mylder nature in them grew, and rudenesse gan to cease.
For at the first their shape was such, as in a certaine sort
Resembled man, but of the right and perfect shape came short.
Euen like to Marble ymages new drawne and roughly wrought,
Before the Caruer by his Arte to purpose hath them brought.
Such partes of them where any iuice or moysture did abound,
Or else were earthie, turned to flesh: and such as were so sound,
And harde as would not bow nor bende did turne to bones: againe
The part that was a veyne before, doth still his name retaine.
Thus by the mightie powre of God ere lenger time was past,
The mankinde was restorde by stones, the which a man did cast.
And likewise also by the stones the which a woman threw,
The womankinde repayred was and made againe of new.
Of these are we the crooked ympes, and stonie race in deede,
Bewraying by our toyling life, from whence we doe proceede.
The lustie earth of owne accorde soone after forth did bring,
According to their sundrie shapes eche other liuing thing.
Assoone as that the moysture once caught heate against the Sunne,
And that the fat and slimie mud in moorish groundes begunne,
To swell through warmth of Phebus beames, and that the fruitfull seede
Of things well cherisht in the fat and liuely soyle in deede,
As in their mothers wombe, began in length of time to grow,
To one or other kinde of shape wherein themselues to show.
Euen so when that seuen mouthed Nile the watrie fieldes forsooke,
And to his auncient chanell eft his bridled streames betooke.
So that the Sunne did heate the mud, the which he left behinde,
The husbandmen that tilde the ground, among the cloddes did finde,
Of sundrie creatures sundrie shapes: of which they spied some,
Euen in the instant of their birth but newly then begonne.
And some vnperfect wanting brest or shoulders in such wise,
That in one bodie oftentimes appeared to the eyes
One halfe thereof aliue to be, and all the rest beside
Both voyde of life and seemely shape, starke earth to still abide.
For when that moysture with the heate is tempred equally,
They doe conceyue: and of them twaine engender by and by
All kinde of things. For though that fire with water aye debateth
Yet moysture mixt with equall heate all liuing things createth.
And so those discordes in their kinde, one striuing with the other,
In generation doe agree and make one perfect mother.
And therfore when the mirie earth bespred with slimie mud,
Brought ouer all but late before by violence of the flud,
Caught heate by warmnesse of the Sunne, and culmenesse of the skie,
Things out of number in the worlde, forthwith it did applie.
Whereof in part the like before in former times had bene,
And some so straunge and ougly shapes as neuer erst were sene.
In that she did such Monsters breede, was greatly to hir woe,
But yet thou ougly Python wert engendred by hir thoe.
A terror to the new made folke, which neuer erst had knowne
So foule a Dragon in their life, so monstrously foregrowne,
So great a ground thy poyson paunch did vnderneath thee hide.
The God of shooting who no where before that present tide
Those kinde of weapons put in vre, but at the speckled Deare,
Or at the Roes so wight of foote, a thousand shaftes well neare,
Did on that hideous serpent spende, of which there was not one,
But forced forth the venimd bloud along his sides to gone.
So that his quiuer almost voyde, he nailde him to the grounde,
And did him nobly at the last by force of shot confounde.
And least that time might of this worke deface the worthy fame,
He did ordeyne in minde thereof a great and solemne game,
Which of the serpent that he slue of Pythians bare the name.
Where who so could the maistrie winne in feates of strength or sleight
Of hande or foote or rolling wheele, might claime to haue of right,
An Oken garland fresh and braue. There was not any wheare
As yet a Bay, by meanes whereof was Phebus faine to weare
The leaues of euery pleasant tree about his golden heare.
Peneian Daphne was the first where Phebus set his loue,
Which not blind chaunce but Cupids fierce & cruel wrath did moue.
The Delian God but late before surprisde with passing pride:
For killing of the monstrous worme, the God of loue espide,
With bowe in hand already bent and letting arrowes go:
To whome he sayd, and what hast thou thou wanton baby so
With warlike weapons for to toy? It were a better sight,
To see this kinde of furniture on our two shoulders bright:
Who when we list with stedfast hand both man and beast can wound,
Who tother day wyth arrowes keene, haue nayled to the ground,
The serpent Python so forswolne, whose filthie wombe did hide
So many acres of the grounde in which he did abide.
Content thy selfe sonne, sorie loues to kindle with thy brand,
For these our prayses to attaine thou must not take in hand.
To him quoth Venus sonne againe, well Phebus I agree
Thy bow to shoote at euery beast, and so shall mine at thee.
And looke how far that vnder God eche beast is put by kinde,
So much thy glorie lesse than ours in shooting shalt thou finde.
This saide, with drift of fethered wings in broken ayre he flue,
And to the forkt and shadie top of Mount Parnasus drue.
There from hys quiuer full of shafts two arrowes did he take
Of sundrie workes: tone causeth Loue, the tother doth it slake.
That causeth loue, is all of golde with point full sharpe and bright,
That chaseth loue is blunt, whose steele with leaden head is dight.
The God this fixed in the Nymph Peneis for the nones
The tother perst Apollos heart and ouerraft his bones.
Immediately in smoldring heate of Loue the tone did swelt,
Againe the tother in hir heart no sparke nor motion felt.
In woods and forrests is hir ioy, the sauage beasts to chase,
And as the price of all hir paine to take the skinne and case.
Unwedded Phebe doth she haunt and follow as hir guide,
Unordred doe hir tresses waue scarce in a fillet tide.
Full many a wooer sought hir loue, she lothing all the rout,
Impacient and without a man walkes all the woods about.
And as for Hymen, or for loue, and wedlocke often sought
She tooke no care, they were the furthest end of all hir thought.
Hir father many a time and oft would saye, my daughter deere
Thow owest me a sonneinlaw to be thy lawfull feere.
Hir father many a time and oft would say my daughter deere,
Of Nephewes thou my debtour art, their Graundsires heart to cheere.
She hating as a haynous crime the bonde of bridely bed
Demurely casting downe hir eyes, and blushing somwhat red,
Did folde about hir fathers necke with fauning armes: and sed,
Deare father graunt me while I liue my maidenhead for to haue,
As to Diana here tofore hir father freely gaue.
Thy father (Daphne) could consent to that thou doest require,
But that thy beautie and thy forme impugne thy chaste desire:
So that thy will and his consent are nothing in this case,
By reason of the beautie bright that shineth in thy face.
Apollo loues and longs to haue this Daphne to his Feere,
And as he longs he hopes, but his foredoomes doe fayle him there.
And as light hame when corne is reapt, or hedges burne with brandes,
That passers by when day drawes neere throwe loosely fro their handes,
So into flames the God is gone and burneth in his brest
And feedes his vaine and barraine loue in hoping for the best.
Hir haire vnkembd about hir necke downe flaring did he see
O Lord and were they trimd (quoth he) how seemely would she bee?
He sees hir eyes as bright as fire the starres to represent,
He sees hir mouth which to haue seene he holdes him not content.
Hir lillie armes mid part and more aboue the elbow bare,
Hir handes, hir fingers and hir wrystes, him thought of beautie rare.
And sure he thought such other parts as garments then did hyde,
Excelled greatly all the rest the which he had espyed.
But swifter than the whyrling winde shee flees and will not stay,
To giue the hearing to these wordes the which he had to say.
I pray thee Nymph Penæis stay I chase not as a fo:
Stay Nymph: the Lambes so flee ye Wolues, the Stags ye Lions so.
With flittring feathers sielie Doues so from the Gossehauke flie,
And euery creature from his foe. Loue is the cause that I
Do followe thee: alas alas how would it grieue my heart,
To see thee fall among the briers, and that the bloud should start,
Out of thy tender legges, I wretch the causer of thy smart,
The place is rough to which thou runst, take leysure I thee pray,
Abate thy flight, and I my selfe my running pace will stay.
Yet would I wishe thee take aduise, and wisely for to viewe
What one he is that for thy grace in humble wise doth sewe.
I am not one that dwelles among the hilles and stonie rockes,
I am no sheepehearde with a Curre, attending on the flockes:
I am no Carle nor countrie Clowne, nor neathearde taking charge
Of cattle grazing here and there within this Forrest large.
Thou doest not know poore simple soule, God wote thou dost not knowe,
From whome thou fleest. For If thou knew, thou wouldste not flee me so.
In Delphos is my chiefe abode, my Temples also stande
At Glaros and at Patara within the Lycian lande.
And in the Ile of Tenedos the people honour mee.
The king of Gods himselfe is knowne my father for to bee.
By me is knowne that was, that is, and that that shall ensue,
By mee men learne to sundrie tunes to frame sweete ditties true.
In shooting haue I stedfast hand, but sured hand had hee
That made this wound within my heart that heretofore was free.
Of Phisicke and of surgerie I found the Artes for neede
The powre of euerie herbe and plant doth of my gift proceede.
Nowe wo is me that neare an herbe can heale the hurt of loue
And that the Artes that others helpe their Lord doth helpelesse proue.
As Phoebus would haue spoken more, away Penæis stale
With fearefull steppes, and left him in the midst of all his tale.
And as she ran the meeting windes hir garments backewarde blue,
So that hir naked skinne apearde behinde hir as she flue,
Hir goodly yellowe golden haire that hanged loose and slacke,
With euery puffe of ayre did waue and tosse behinde hir backe.
Hir running made hir seeme more fayre, the youthfull God therefore
Coulde not abyde to waste his wordes in dalyance any more.
But as his loue aduysed him he gan to mende his pace,
And with the better foote before the fleeing Nymph to chace.
And euen as when the greedie Grewnde doth course the sielie Hare,
Amiddes the plaine and champion fielde without all couert bare,
Both twaine of them doe straine themselues and lay on footemanship,
Who may best runne with all his force the tother to outstrip,
The tone for safetie of his lyfe, the tother for his pray,
The Grewnde aye prest with open mouth to beare the Hare away,
Thrusts forth his snoute and gyrdeth out and at hir loynes doth snatch,
As though he would at euerie stride betweene his teeth hir latch:
Againe in doubt of being caught the Hare aye shrinking slips,
Upon the sodaine from his Iawes, and from betweene his lips:
So farde Apollo and the Mayde: hope made Apollo swift,
And feare did make the Mayden fleete deuising how to shift.
Howebeit he that did pursue of both the swifter went,
As furthred by the feathred wings that Cupid had him lent.
So that he would not let hir rest, but preased at hir heele
So neere that through hir scattred haire she might his breathing feele.
But when she sawe hir breath was gone and strength began to fayle,
The colour faded in hir cheekes, and ginning for to quayle,
Shee looked to Penæus streame and sayde nowe Father dere,
And if you streames haue powre of Gods then help your daughter here.
O let the earth deuour me quicke, on which I seeme to fayre,
Or else this shape which is my harme by chaunging straight appayre.
This piteous prayer scarce sed: hir sinewes waxed starke,
And therewithall about hir breast did grow a tender barke.
Hir haire was turned into leaues, hir armes in boughes did growe,
Hir feete that were ere while so swift, now rooted were as slowe.
Hir crowne became the toppe, and thus of that she earst had beene,
Remayned nothing in the worlde, but beautie fresh and greene.
Which when that Phoebus did beholde (affection did so moue)
The tree to which his loue was turnde he coulde no lesse but loue.
And as he softly layde his hande vpon the tender plant,
Within the barke newe ouergrowne he felt hir heart yet pant.
And in his armes embracing fast hir boughes and braunches lythe,
He proferde kisses to the tree, the tree did from him writhe.
Well (quoth Apollo) though my Feere and spouse thou can not bee,
Assuredly from this tyme forth yet shalt thou be my tree.
Thou shalt adorne my golden lookes, and eke my pleasant Harpe,
Thou shalt adorne my Quyuer full of shaftes and arrowes sharpe.
Thou shalt adorne the valiant knyghts and royall Emperours:
When for their noble feates of armes like mightie conquerours,
Triumphantly with stately pompe vp to the Capitoll,
They shall ascende with solemne traine that doe their deedes extoll.
Before Augustus Pallace doore full duely shalt thou warde,
The Oke amid the Pallace yarde aye faythfully to garde,
And as my heade is neuer poulde nor neuer more without
A seemely bushe of youthfull haire that spreadeth rounde about,
Euen so this honour giue I thee continually to haue
Thy braunches clad from time to tyme with leaues both fresh & braue.
Now when that Pean of this talke had fully made an ende,
The Lawrell to his iust request did seeme to condescende,
By bowing of hir newe made boughes and tender braunches downe,
and wagging of hir seemely toppe, as if it it were hir crowne.
There is a lande in Thessalie enclosd on euery syde
With wooddie hilles, that Timpe hight, through mid where of doth glide
Penæus gushing full of froth from foote of Pindus hye.
Which with his headlong falling downe doth cast vp violently,
A mistie steame lyke flakes of smoke, besprinckling all about
The toppes of trees on eyther side, and makes a roaring out
That may be heard a great way off. This is the fixed seate,
This is the house and dwelling place and chamber of the greate
And mightie Ryuer: Here he sittes in Court of Peeble stone,
And ministers iustice to the waues and to the Nymphes eche one,
That in the Brookes and waters dwell. Now hither did resorte,
(Not knowing if they might reioyce and vnto mirth exhort
Or comfort him) his Countrie Brookes, Sperchius well beseene,
With sedgie heade and shadie bankes of Poplars fresh and greene.
Enipeus restlesse swift and quicke, olde father Apidane,
Amphrisus with his gentle streame, and Aeas clad with cane:
With dyuers other Ryuers moe, which hauing runne their race,
Into the Sea their wearie waues doe lead with restlesse pace.
From hence the carefull Inachus absentes him selfe alone.
Who in a corner of his caue with doolefull teares and mone,
Augments the waters of his streame, bewayling piteously
His daughter Iö lately lost. He knewe not certainly
And if she were a liue or deade. But for he had hir sought,
And coulde not finde hir any where, assuredly he thought
She did not liue aboue the molde, ne drewe the vitall breath:
Misgiuing worser in his minde, if ought be worse than death.
It fortunde on a certaine day that Ioue espide this Mayde
Come running from hir fathers streame alone: to whome he sayde:
O Damsell worthie Ioue himselfe like one day for to make
Some happie person whome thou list vnto thy bed to take.
I pray thee let vs shroude our selues in shadowe here togither,
Of this or that (he poynted both) it makes no matter whither,
Untill the whotest of the day and Noone be ouerpast.
And if for feare of sauage beastes perchaunce thou be agast
To wander in the Woods alone, thou shalt not neede to feare,
A God shall bee thy guide to saue thee harmelesse euery where.
And not a God of meaner sort, but euen the same that hath
The heauenly scepter in his hande, who in my dreadfull wrath,
Do dart downe thunder wandringly: and therefore make no hast
To runne away. She ranne apace, and had alreadie past
The Fen of Lerna and the field of Lincey set with trees:
When Ioue intending now in vaine no lenger tyme to leese,
Upon the Countrie all about did bring a foggie mist,
And caught the Mayden whome poore foole he vsed as he list.
Queene Iuno looking downe that while vpon the open field,
When in so fayre a day such mistes and darkenesse she behelde,
Dyd maruell much, for well she knewe those mistes ascended not
From any Ryuer, moorishe ground, or other dankishe plot.
She lookt about hir for hir Ioue as one that was acquainted
With such escapes and with the deede had often him attainted.
Whome when she founde not in the heauen, onlesse I gesse amisse,
Some wrong agaynst me (quoth she) now my husbande working is.
And with that worde she left the Heauen, and downe to earth shee came,
Commaunding all the mistes away. But Ioue foresees the same,
And to a Cow as white as milke his Leman he conuayes.
She was a goodly Hecfar sure: and Iuno did hir prayse,
Although (God wot) she thought it not, and curiously she sought,
Where she was bred? whose Cow she was, who had hir thither brought?
As though she had not knowne the truth. Hir husband by and by
(Bycause she should not search to neare) deuisde a cleanly lie,
And tolde hir that the Cow was bred euen nowe out of the grounde.
Then Iuno who hir husbands shift at fingers endes had founde,
Desirde to haue the Cow of gift. What should he doe as tho?
Great cruelnesse it were to yeelde his Louer to hir fo.
And not to giue would breede mistrust. As fast as shame prouoked,
So fast agayne a tother side his Loue his minde reuoked.
So much that Loue was at the poynt to put all shame to flight.
But that he feared if he should denie a gift so light,
As was a Cowe to hir that was his sister and his wyfe,
Might make hir thinke it was no Cow, & breede perchaunce some strife.
Now when that Iuno had by gift hir husbands Leman got,
Yet altogether out of feare and carelesse was she not.
She had him in a ielousie and thoughtfull was she still.
For doubt he should inuent some meanes to steale hir from hir: till
To Argus olde Aristors sonne she put hir for to keepe,
This Argus had an hundreth eyes: of which by turne did sleepe
Alwayes a couple, and the rest did duely watch and warde,
And of the charge they tooke in hande had euer good regarde,
What way so euer Argus stood with face, with backe, or side,
To Iö warde, before his eyes did Iö still abide.
All day he let hir graze abroade, the Sunne once vnder ground,
He shut hir vp and by the necke with wrythen With hir bound.
With croppes of trees and bitter weedes now was she dayly fed,
And in the stead of costly couch and good soft featherbed,
She sate a nightes vpon the ground, and on such ground whereas
Was not sometime so much as grasse: and oftentymes she was
Compeld to drinke of muddie pittes: and when she did deuise,
To Argus for to lift hir handes in meeke and humble wise,
She sawe she had no handes at all: and when she did assay
To make complaint, she lowed out, which did hir so affray,
That oft she started at the noyse, & would haue runne away.
Unto hir father Inachs banckes she also did resorte,
Where many a tyme and oft before she had beene wont to sporte.
Now when she looked in the streame, and sawe hir horned hed,
She was agast and from hir selfe would all in hast haue fled.
The Nymphes hir sisters knewe hir not nor yet hir owne deare father,
Yet followed she both him and them, and suffred them the rather
To touch and stroke hir where they list, as one that preaced still
To set hir selfe to wonder at and gaze vpon their fill.
The good olde Inach pulze vp grasse and to hir straight it beares.
She as she kyst and lickt his handes did shed forth dreerie teares.
And had she had hir speach at will to vtter forth hir thought,
She would haue tolde hir name and chaunce and him of helpe besought.
But for bicause she could not speake, she printed in the sande,
Two letters with hir foote, whereby was giuen to vnderstande
The sorrowfull chaunging of hir shape. Which seene straight cryed out
Hir father Inach wo is me, and clasping hir about
Hir white and seemely Hecfars necke and christal hornes both twaine,
He shricked out full piteously, Now wo is me again.
Alas art thou my daughter deare, whome through the worlde I sought
And could not finde? and now by chaunce art to my presence brought?
My sorrow certesse lesser farre a thousande folde had beene
If neuer had I seene thee more, than thus to haue thee seene.
Thou standst as dombe and to my wordes no answere can thou giue,
But from the bottom of thy heart full sorie sighes dost driue
As tokens of thine inwarde griefe, and doolefully dost mooe
Unto my talke, the onely thing least in thy powre to dooe.
But I mistrusting nothing lesse than this so great mischaunce.
By some great mariage earnestly did seeke thee to aduaunce,
In hope some yssue to haue seene betweene my sonne and thee.
But now thou must a husband haue among the Heirds I see,
And eke thine issue must be such as other cattels bee.
Oh that I were a mortall wight as other creatures are,
For then might death in length of time quite rid mee of this care,
But now bycause I am a God, and fate doth death denie,
There is no helpe but that my griefe must last eternallie.
As Inach made this piteous mone quicke sighted Argus draue
His daughter into further fieldes to which he could not haue
Accesse, and he himselfe a loof did get him to a hill,
From whence he sitting at his ease viewd euerie way at will.
Now could no lenger Ioue abide his Louer so forlorne,
And therevpon he cald his sonne that Maia had him borne,
Commaunding Argus should be kild. He made no long abod,
But tyde his feathers to his feete, and tooke his charmed rod.
(With which he bringeth things a sleepe, and fetcheth soules from Hell)
And put his Hat vpon his head: and when that all was well
He leaped from his fathers towres, and downe to earth he flue
And there both Hat and winges also he lightly from him thrue.
Retayning nothing but his staffe, the which he closely helde
Betweene his elbowe and his side, and through the common fielde
Went plodding lyke some good plaine soule that had some flocke to feede.
And as he went he pyped still vpon an Oten Reede.
Queene Iunos Heirdman farre in loue with this straunge melodie.
Bespake him thus: Good fellow mine, I pray thee heartely
Come sitte downe by me on this hill, for better seede I knowe
Thou shalt not finde in all these fieldes, and (as the thing doth showe)
It is a coole and shadowie plot, for sheepeheirds verie fitte
Downe by his elbow by and by did Atlas nephew sit.
And for to passe the tyme withall for seeming ouerlong,
He helde him talke of this and that, and now and than among,
He playd vpon his merrie Pipe to cause his watching eyes
To fall a sleepe. Poore Argus did the best he could deuise
To ouercome the pleasant nappes: and though that some did sleepe,
Yet of his eyes the greater part he made their watch to keepe.
And after other talke he askt (for lately was it founde)
Who was the founder of that Pype that did so sweetely sounde.
Then sayde the God, there dwelt sometime a Nymph of noble fame
Among the hilles of Arcadie, that Syrinx had to name.
Of all the Nymphes of Nonacris and Fairie farre and neere,
In beautie and in parsonage thys Ladie had no peere.
Full often had she giuen the slippe both to the Satyrs quicke
And other Gods that dwell in Woods, and in the Forrests thicke,
Or in the fruitfull fieldes abrode. It was hir whole desire
To follow chaste Dianas guise in Maydenhead and attire.
Whome she did counterfaite so nighe, that such as did hir see
Might at a blush haue taken hir, Diana for to bee,
But that the Nymph did in hir hande a bowe of Eornell holde,
Whereas Diana euermore did beare a bowe of golde.
And yet she did deceyue folke so. Upon a certaine day
God Pan with garland on his heade of Pinetree, sawe hir stray
From Mount Lyceus all alone, and thus to hir did say.
Unto a Gods request, O Nymph, voucesafe thou to agree
That doth desire thy wedded spouse and husband for to bee.
There was yet more behinde to tell: as how that Syrinx fled,
Through waylesse woods and gaue no eare to that that Pan had sed,
Untill she to the gentle streame of sandie Ladon came,
Where, for bicause it was so deepe, she could not passe the same,
She piteously to chaunge hir shape the water Nymphes besought:
And how when Pan betweene his armes, to catch ye Nymph had thought,
In steade of hir he caught the Reedes newe growne vpon the brooke,
And as he sighed, with his breath the Reedes he softly shooke
Which made a still and mourning noyse, with straungnesse of the which
And sweetenesse of the feeble sounde the God delighted mich,
Saide certesse Syrinx for thy sake it is my full intent,
To make my comfort of these Reedes wherein thou doest lament:
And how that there of sundrie Reedes with wax together knit,
He made the Pipe which of hir name the Greekes call Syrinx yet.
But as Cyllemus would haue tolde this tale, he cast his sight
On Argus, and beholde his eyes had bid him all good night.
There was not one that did not sleepe, and fast he gan to nodde,
Immediately he ceast his talke, and with his charmed rodde,
So stroked all his heauie eyes that earnestly they slept.
Then with his Woodknife by and by he lightly to him stept,
And lent him such a perlous blowe, where as the shoulders grue
Unto the necke, that straight his heade quite from the bodie flue.
Then tombling downe the headlong hill his bloudie coarse he sent,
That all the way by which he rolde was stayned and besprent.
There liste thou Argus vnder foote, with all thy hundreth lights,
And all the light is cleane extinct that was within those sights.
One endelesse night thy hundred eyes hath nowe bereft for aye,
Yet would not Iuno suffer so hir Heirdmans eyes decay:
But in hir painted Peacocks tayle and feathers did them set,
Where they remayne lyke precious stones and glaring eyes as yet.
She tooke his death in great dispight and as hir rage did moue,
Determinde for to wreeke hir wrath vpon hir husbandes Loue.
Forthwith she cast before hir eyes right straunge and vgly sightes,
Compelling hir to thinke she sawe some Fiendes or wicked sprightes.
And in hir heart such secret prickes and piercing stings she gaue hir,
As though the worlde from place to place with restlesse sorrow draue hir.
Thou Nylus wert assignd to stay hir paynes and trauelles past,
To which as soone as Iö came with much a doe at last,
With wearie knockles on thy brim she kneeled sadly downe,
And stretching foorth hir faire long necke and christall horned crowne,
Such kinde of countnaunce as she had she lifted to the skie,
And there with sighing sobbes and teares and lowing doolefully
Did seeme to make hir mone to Ioue, desiring him to make
Some ende of those hir troublous stormes endured for his sake.
He tooke his wife about the necke, and sweetely kissing prayde,
That Iös penance yet at length might by hir graunt be stayde.
Thou shalt not neede to feare (quoth he) that euer she shall grieue thee
From this day forth. And in this case the better to beleue mee,
The Stygian waters of my wordes vnparciall witnesse beene.
Assoone as Iuno was appeasde, immediately was seene
That Iö tooke hir natiue shape in which she first was borne,
And eke became the selfe same thing the which she was beforne.
For by and by she cast away hir rough and hairie hyde,
In steede whereof a soft smouth skinne with tender fleshe did byde.
Hir hornes sank down, hir eies and mouth were brought in lesser roome,
Hir handes, hir shoulders, and hir armes in place againe did come.
Hir clouen Clees to fingers fiue againe reduced were,
On which the nayles lyke pollisht Gemmes did shine full bright & clere.
In fine, no likenesse of a Cow saue whitenesse did remaine
So pure and perfect as no snowe was able it to staine.
She vaunst hir selfe vpon hir feete which then was brought to two.
And though she gladly would haue spoke: yet durst she not so do,
Without good heede, for feare she should haue lowed like a Cow.
And therefore softly with hir selfe she gan to practise how
Distinctly to pronounce hir wordes that intermitted were.
Now as a Goddesse is she had in honour euerie where,
Among the folke that dwell by Nyle yclad in linnen weede.
Of her in tyme came Epaphus begotten of the seede
of myghtie Ioue. This noble ympe nowe ioyntly with his mother,
Through all the Cities of that lande haue temples tone with toother.
There was his match in heart and yeares the lustie Phaëton,
A stalworth stripling strong and stout the golden Phoebus sonne.
Whome making proude and stately vauntes of his so noble race,
And vnto him in that respect in nothing giuing place,
The sonne of Iö coulde not beare: but sayde vnto him thus.
No maruell though thou be so proude and full of wordes ywus.
For euerie fonde and trifling tale the which thy mother makes
Thy gyddie wit and hairebrainde heade forthwith for gospell takes.
Well, vaunt thy selfe of Phoebus still, for when the truth is seene,
Thou shalt perceyue that fathers name a forged thing to beene.
At this reproch did Phaëton wax as red as any fire:
Howbeit for the present tyme did shame represse his ire.
Unto his mother Clymen straight he goeth to detect
The spitefull wordes that Epaphus against him did obiect.
Yea mother (quoth he) and which ought your greater griefe to bee,
I who at other tymes of talke was wont to be so free
And stoute, had neere a worde to say, I was ashamde to take
So fowle a foyle: the more because I could none answere make.
But if I be of heauenly race exacted as ye say,
Then shewe some token of that highe and noble byrth I pray.
And vouche me for to be of heauen. With that he gently cast
His armes about his mothers necke, and clasping hir full fast,
Besought hir as she loude his life, and as she loude the lyfe
Of Merops, and had kept hir selfe as vndefiled wyfe,
And as she wished welthily his sisters to bestowe,
She would some token giue whereby his rightfull Sire to knowe
It is a doubtfull matter whither Clymen moued more
With this hir Phaëtons earnest sute exacting it so sore,
Or with the slaunder of the brute layde to hir charge before,
Did holde vp both hir handes to heauen, and looking on the Sunne,
My right deare childe I safely sweare (quoth she to Phaëton)
That of this starre the which so bright doth glister in thine eye:
Of this same Sunne that cheares the world with light indifferently
Wert thou begot: and if I fayne, then with my heart I pray,
That neuer may I see him more vnto my dying day.
But if thou haue so great desire thy father for to knowe,
Thou shalt not neede in that behalfe much labour to bestowe.
The place from whence he doth arise adioyneth to our lande.
And if thou thinke thy heart will serue, then go and vnderstande
The truth of him. When Phaëton heard his mother saying so,
He gan to leape and skip for ioye. He fed his fansie tho,
Upon the Heauen and heauenly things: and so with willing minde,
From Aethiop first his natiue home, and afterwarde through Inde
Set vnderneath the morning starre he went so long, till as
He founde me where his fathers house and dayly rising was.

Finis primi Libri