A Persone in the whyle was sought sufficient to susteineThe burthen of so great a charge, and woorthy for to reigneIn stead of such a mighty prince. The noble Nume by fame(Whoo harped then uppon the truthe before to passe it came)Appoynted to the Empyre was. This Numa thought it not Inough that he the knowledge of the Sabine rites had got.The deepenesse of the noble wit to greater things was bent,To serch of things the natures out. The care of this intentDid cause that he from Curie and his native Countrye wentWith peynfull travell, to the towne where Hercules did hoste. And asking who it was of Greece that in th'Italian coastHad buylt that towne, an aged man well seene in storyes old,To satisfye his mynd therin the processe thus him told:As Hercules enriched with the Spannish kyne did holdHis voyage from the Ocean sea, men say with lucky cut He came aland on Lacine coast. And whyle he there did putHis beace to grazing, he himself in Crotons house did rest,The greatest man in all those parts and unto straungers best:And that he there refresht him of his tedious travell, andThat when he should depart, he sayd: Where now thy house dooth stand, Shall in thy childers childrens tyme a Citie buylded bee.Which woordes of his have proved trew as playnly now wee see.For why there was one Myscelus, a Greeke, Alemons sonne,A persone more in favour of the Goddes than any oneIn those dayes was. The God that beares the boystous club did stay Uppon him being fast asleepe, and sayd: Go seeke streyght wayThe stonny streame of Aeserie. Thy native soyle for ayForsake. And sore he threatned him onlesse he did obey.The God and sleepe departed both togither. Up did ryseAlemons sonne, and in himself did secretly devyseUppon this vision. Long his mynd strove dowtfull to and fro.The God bad go. His country lawes did say he should not go,And death was made the penaltie for him that would doo so.Cleere Titan in the Ocean sea had hid his lyghtsomme head,And duskye nyght had put up hers most thick with starres bespred. The selfsame God by Myscelus did seeme to stand eftsoone,Commaunding him the selfsame thing that he before had doone,And threatning mo and greater plages onlesse he did obey.Then being stricken sore in feare he went about streyghtwayHis household from his natyve land to forreine to convey. A rumor heereuppon did ryse through all the towne of ArgeAnd disobedience of the lawe was layed to his charge.Assoone as that the cace had first beene pleaded and the deedeApparantly perceyved, so that witnesse did not neede,Arreyned and forlorne to heaven he cast his handes and eyes, And sayd: O God whoose labours twelve have purchaste thee the skyes,Assist mee, I thee pray. For thou art author of my cryme.When judgement should bee given it was the guyse in auncient tymeWith whyght stones to acquit the cleere, and eeke with blacke to castThe giltye. That tyme also so the heavy sentence past. The stones were cast unmercifull all blacke into the pot.But when the stones were powred out to number, there was notA blacke among them. All were whyght. And so through Hercles powreA gentle judgement did proceede, and he was quit that howre.Then gave he thankes to Hercules, and having prosprous blast, Cut over the Ionian sea, and so by Tarent pastWhich Spartanes buylt, and Cybaris, and Neaeth Salentine,And Thurine bay, and Emese, and eeke the pastures fyneOf Calabrye. And having scarce well sought the coastes that lyeUppon the sea, he found the mouth of fatall Aeserye. Not farre from thence, he also found the tumb in which the groundDid kiver Crotons holy bones, and in that place did foundThe Citie that was willed him, and gave thereto the nameOf him that there lay buryed. Such originall as this sameThis Citie in th'Italian coast is sayd to have by fame.
Heere dwelt a man of Samos Ile, who for the hate he hadTo Lordlynesse and Tyranny, though unconstreynd was gladTo make himself a bannisht man. And though this persone weereFarre distant from the Goddes by site of heaven: yit came he neereTo them in mynd. And he by syght of soule and reason cleere Behild the things which nature dooth to fleshly eyes denye.And when with care most vigilant he had assuredlyImprinted all things in his hart, he set them openlyAbroade for other folk to lerne. He taught his silent sort(Which woondred at the heavenly woordes theyr mayster did report) The first foundation of the world: the cause of every thing:What nature was: and what was God: whence snow and lyghtning spring:And whither Jove or else the wynds in breaking clowdes doo thunder:What shakes the earth: what law the starres doo keepe theyr courses under:And what soever other thing is hid from common sence. He also is the first that did injoyne an abstinenceTo feede of any lyving thing. He also first of allSpake thus: although ryght lernedly, yit to effect but small:Yee mortall men, forbeare to frank your flesh with wicked foode.Yee have both come and frutes of trees and grapes and herbes right good. And though that sum bee harsh and hard: yit fyre may make them wellBoth soft and sweete. Yee may have milk, and honny which dooth smellOf flowres of tyme. The lavish earth dooth yeeld you plentiouslyMost gentle foode, and riches to content bothe mynd and eye.There needes no slaughter nor no blood to get your living by. The beastes do breake theyr fast with flesh: and yit not all beastes neyther.For horses, sheepe, and Rotherbeastes to live by grasse had lever.The nature of the beast that dooth delyght in bloody foode,Is cruell and unmercifull. As Lyons feerce of moode,Armenian Tigers, Beares, and Woolves. Oh, what a wickednesse It is to cram the mawe with mawe, and frank up flesh with flesh,And for one living thing to live by killing of another:As whoo should say, that of so great abundance which our mootherThe earth dooth yeeld most bountuously, none other myght delyghtThy cruell teethe to chawe uppon, than grisly woundes that myght Expresse the Cyclops guyse? or else as if thou could not stawncheThe hunger of thy greedye gut and evill mannerd pawnche,Onlesse thou stroyd sum other wyght. But that same auncient ageWhich wee have naamd the golden world, cleene voyd of all such rage,Livd blessedly by frute of trees and herbes that grow on ground, And stayned not their mouthes with blood. Then birds might safe and soundFly where they listed in the ayre. The hare unscaard of houndWent pricking over all the feeldes. No angling hooke with baytDid hang the seely fish that bote mistrusting no deceyt.All things were voyd of guylefulnesse: no treason was in trust: But all was freendshippe, love and peace. But after that the lustOf one (what God so ere he was) disdeyning former fare,To cram that cruell croppe of his with fleshmeate did not spare,He made a way for wickednesse. And first of all the knyfeWas staynd with blood of savage beastes in ridding them of lyfe. And that had nothing beene amisse, if there had beene the stay.For why wee graunt, without the breach of godlynesse wee mayBy death confound the things that seeke to take our lyves away.But as to kill them reason was: even so agein theyr wasNo reason why to eate theyr flesh. This leawdnesse thence did passe On further still. Wheras there was no sacrifyse beforne,The Swyne (bycause with hoked groyne he rooted up the come,And did deceyve the tillmen of theyr hope next yeere thereby)Was deemed woorthy by desert in sacrifyse to dye.The Goate for byghting vynes was slayne at Bacchus altar whoo Wreakes such misdeedes. Theyr owne offence was hurtful to theis two.But what have you poore sheepe misdoone, a cattell meeke and meeld,Created for to maynteine man, whoose fulsomme duggs doo yeeldSweete Nectar, whoo dooth clothe us with your wooll in soft aray?Whoose lyfe dooth more us benefite than dooth your death farreway? What trespasse have the Oxen doone, a beast without all guyleOr craft, unhurtfull, simple, borne to labour every whyle?In fayth he is unmyndfull and unwoorthy of increaceOf come, that in his hart can fynd his tilman to releaceFrom plowgh, to cut his throte: that in his hart can fynde (I say) Those neckes with hatchets off to strike, whoose skinne is worne awayWith labring ay for him: whoo turnd so oft his land most tough,Whoo brought so many harvestes home. Yit is it not ynoughThat such a great outrageousenesse committed is. They fatherTheyr wickednesse uppon the Goddes. And falsly they doo gather That in the death of peynfull Ox the Hyghest dooth delyght.A sacrifyse unblemished and fayrest unto syght,(For beawtye woorketh them theyr bane) adornd with garlonds, andWith glittring gold, is cyted at the altar for to stand.There heeres he woordes (he wotes not what) the which the preest dooth pray, And on his forehead suffereth him betweene his homes to layThe eares of come that he himself hath wrought for in the clay,And stayneth with his blood the knyfe that he himself perchaunceHathe in the water sheere ere then behild by soodein glaunce.Immediatly they haling out his hartstrings still alive, And poring on them, seeke therein Goddes secrets to retryve.Whence commes so greedy appetyte in men, of wicked meate?And dare yee, O yee mortall men, adventure thus to eate?Nay doo not (I beseeche yee) so. But give good eare and heedeTo that that I shall warne you of, and trust it as your creede, That whensoever you doo eate your Oxen, you devowreYour husbandmen. And forasmuch as God this instant howreDooth move my toong to speake, I will obey his heavenly powre.My God Apollos temple I will set you open, andDisclose the woondrous heavens themselves, and make you understand The Oracles and secrets of the Godly majestye.Greate things, and such as wit of man could never yit espye,And such as have beene hidden long, I purpose to descrye.I mynd to leave the earth, and up among the starres to stye.I mynd to leave this grosser place, and in the clowdes to flye, And on stowt Atlas shoulders strong to rest my self on hye,And looking downe from heaven on men that wander heere and thereIn dreadfull feare of death as though they voyd of reason were,To give them exhortation thus: and playnely to unwyndThe whole discourse of destinie as nature hath assignd.
O men amaazd with dread of death, why feare yee Limbo Styx,And other names of vanitie, which are but Poets tricks?And perrills of another world, all false surmysed geere?For whether fyre or length of tyme consume the bodyes heere,Yee well may thinke that further harmes they cannot suffer more. For soules are free from death. Howbee't, they leaving evermoreTheyr former dwellings, are receyvd and live ageine in new.For I myself (ryght well in mynd I beare it to be trew)Was in the tyme of Trojan warre Euphorbus, Panthewes sonne,Quyght through whoose hart the deathfull speare of Menelay did ronne. I late ago in Junos Church at Argos did beholdAnd knew the target which I in my left hand there did hold.Al things doo chaunge. But nothing sure dooth perrish. This same sprightDooth fleete, and fisking heere and there dooth swiftly take his flyghtFrom one place to another place, and entreth every wyght, Removing out of man to beast, and out of beast to man.But yit it never perrisheth nor never perrish can.And even as supple wax with ease receyveth fygures straunge,And keepes not ay one shape, ne bydes assured ay from chaunge,And yit continueth alwayes wax in substaunce: so I say The soule is ay the selfsame thing it was and yit astrayIt fleeteth into sundry shapes. Therfore lest GodlynesseBee vanquisht by outragious lust of belly beastlynesse,Forbeare (I speake by prophesie) your kinsfolkes ghostes to chaceBy slaughter: neyther nourish blood with blood in any cace. And sith on open sea the wynds doo blow my sayles apace,In all the world there is not that that standeth at a stay.Things eb and flow: and every shape is made to passe away.The tyme itself continually is fleeting like a brooke.For neyther brooke nor lyghtsomme tyme can tarrye still. But looke As every wave dryves other foorth, and that that commes behyndBothe thrusteth and is thrust itself: even so the tymes by kyndDoo fly and follow bothe at once, and evermore renew.For that that was before is left, and streyght there dooth ensewAnoother that was never erst. Eche twincling of an eye Dooth chaunge. Wee see that after day commes nyght and darks the sky,And after nyght the lyghtsum Sunne succeedeth orderly.Like colour is not in the heaven when all things weery lyeAt midnyght sound asleepe, as when the daystarre cleere and bryghtCommes foorth uppon his milkwhyght steede. Ageine in other plyght The Morning, Pallants daughter fayre, the messenger of lyghtDelivereth into Phebus handes the world of cleerer hew.The circle also of the sonne what tyme it ryseth newAnd when it setteth, looketh red, but when it mounts most hye,Then lookes it whyght, bycause that there the nature of the skye Is better, and from filthye drosse of earth dooth further flye.The image also of the Moone that shyneth ay by nyght,Is never of one quantitie. For that that giveth lyghtToday, is lesser than the next that followeth, till the full.And then contrarywyse eche day her lyght away dooth pull. What? Seest thou not how that the yeere as representing playneThe age of man, departes itself in quarters fowre? First bayneAnd tender in the spring it is, even like a sucking babe.Then greene, and voyd of strength, and lush, and foggye, is the blade,And cheeres the husbandman with hope. Then all things florish gay. The earth with flowres of sundry hew then seemeth for to play,And vertue small or none to herbes there dooth as yit belong.The yeere from springtyde passing foorth to sommer, wexeth strong,Becommeth lyke a lusty youth. For in our lyfe through outThere is no tyme more plentifull, more lusty, hote and stout. Then followeth Harvest when the heate of youth growes sumwhat cold,Rype, meeld, disposed meane betwixt a yoongman and an old,And sumwhat sprent with grayish heare. Then ugly winter lastLike age steales on with trembling steppes, all bald, or overcastWith shirle thinne heare as whyght as snowe. Our bodies also ay Doo alter still from tyme to tyme, and never stand at stay.Wee shall not bee the same wee were today or yisterday.The day hath beene wee were but seede and only hope of men,And in our moothers womb wee had our dwelling place as then:Dame Nature put to conning hand and suffred not that wee Within our moothers streyned womb should ay distressed bee,But brought us out to aire, and from our prison set us free.The chyld newborne lyes voyd of strength. Within a season thoHe wexing fowerfooted lernes like savage beastes to go.Then sumwhat foltring, and as yit not firme of foote, he standes By getting sumwhat for to helpe his sinewes in his handes.From that tyme growing strong and swift, he passeth foorth the spaceOf youth: and also wearing out his middle age apace,Through drooping ages steepye path he ronneth out his race.This age dooth undermyne the strength of former yeares, and throwes It downe. Which thing old Milo by example playnely showes.For when he sawe those armes of his (which heeretofore had beeneAs strong as ever Hercules in woorking deadly teeneOf biggest beastes) hang flapping downe, and nought but empty skin,He wept. And Helen when shee saw her aged wrincles in A glasse wept also: musing in herself what men had seene,That by two noble princes sonnes shee twyce had ravisht beene.Thou tyme the eater up of things, and age of spyghtfull teene,Destroy all things. And when that long continuance hath them bit,You leysurely by lingring death consume them every whit. And theis that wee call Elements doo never stand at stay.The enterchaunging course of them I will before yee lay.Give heede therto. This endlesse world conteynes therin I sayFowre substances of which all things are gendred. Of theis fowerThe Earth and Water for theyr masse and weyght are sunken lower. The other cowple Aire and Fyre, the purer of the twayne,Mount up, and nought can keepe them downe. And though there doo remayneA space betweene eche one of them: yit every thing is madeOf themsame fowre, and into them at length ageine doo fade.The earth resolving leysurely dooth melt to water sheere. The water fyned turnes to aire. The aire eeke purged cleereFrom grossenesse, spyreth up aloft, and there becommeth fyre.From thence in order contrary they backe ageine retyre.Fyre thickening passeth into Aire, and Ayer wexing grosse,Returnes to water: Water eeke congealing into drosse, Becommeth earth.
No kind of thing keepes ay his shape and hew.For nature loving ever chaunge repayres one shape anewUppon another. Neyther dooth there perrish aught (trust mee)In all the world, but altring takes new shape. For that which weeDoo terme by name of being borne, is for to gin to bee Another thing than that it was: and likewise for to dye,To cease to bee the thing it was. And though that varyablyThings passe perchaunce from place to place: yit all from whence they cameReturning, do unperrisshed continew still the same.But as for in one shape, bee sure that nothing long can last. Even so the ages of the world from gold to Iron past.Even so have places oftentymes exchaunged theyr estate.For I have seene it sea which was substanciall ground alate,Ageine where sea was, I have seene the same become dry lond,And shelles and scales of Seafish farre have lyen from any strond, And in the toppes of mountaynes hygh old Anchors have beene found.Deepe valleyes have by watershotte beene made of levell ground,And hilles by force of gulling oft have into sea beene worne.Hard gravell ground is sumtyme seene where marris was beforne,And that that erst did suffer drowght, becommeth standing lakes. Heere nature sendeth new springs out, and there the old in takes.Full many rivers in the world through earthquakes heretoforeHave eyther chaundgd theyr former course, or dryde and ronne no more.Soo Lycus beeing swallowed up by gaping of the ground,A greatway off fro thence is in another channell found. Even so the river Erasine among the feeldes of ArgeSinkes one whyle, and another whyle ronnes greate ageine at large.Caycus also of the land of Mysia (as men say)Misliking of his former head, ronnes now another way.In Sicill also Amasene ronnes sumtyme full and hye, And sumtyme stopping up his spring, he makes his chanell drye.Men drank the waters of the brooke Anigrus heretofore,Which now is such that men abhorre to towche them any more.Which commes to passe, (onlesse wee will discredit Poets quyght)Bycause the Centaures vanquisshed by Hercules in fyght Did wash theyr woundes in that same brooke. But dooth not HypanisThat springeth in the Scythian hilles, which at his fountaine isRyght pleasant, afterward becomme of brackish bitter taste?Antissa, and Phenycian Tyre, and Pharos in tyme pastWere compast all about with waves: but none of all theis three Is now an Ile. Ageine the towne of Lewcas once was freeFrom sea, and in the auncient tyme was joyned to the land.But now environd round about with water it dooth stand.Men say that Sicill also hath beene joynd to ItalyUntill the sea consumde the bounds beetweene, and did supply The roome with water. If yee go to seeke for HeliceeAnd Burye which were Cities of Achaia, you shall seeThem hidden under water, and the shipmen yit doo showeThe walles and steeples of the townes drownd under as they rowe.Not farre from Pitthey Troyzen is a certeine high ground found All voyd of trees, which heeretofore was playne and levell ground,But now a mountayne. For the wyndes (a woondrous thing to say)Inclosed in the hollow caves of ground, and seeking wayTo passe therefro, in struggling long to get the open skyeIn vayne, (bycause in all the cave there was no vent wherby To issue out,) did stretch the ground and make it swell on hye,As dooth a bladder that is blowen by mouth, or as the skinneOf horned Goate in bottlewyse when wynd is gotten in.The swelling of the foresayd place remaynes at this day still,And by continuance waxing hard is growen a pretye hill. Of many things that come to mynd by heersay, and by skillOf good experience, I a fewe will utter to you mo.What? Dooth not water in his shapes chaunge straungely to and fro?The well of horned Hammon is at noonetyde passing cold.At morne and even it wexeth warme. At midnyght none can hold His hand therin for passing heate. The well of Athamane,Is sayd to kindle woode what tyme the moone is in the wane.The Cicons have a certeine streame which beeing droonk dooth bringMennes bowwelles into Marble hard: and whatsoever thingIs towcht therwith, it turnes to stone. And by your bounds behold The rivers Crathe and Sybaris make yellow heare like goldAnd Amber. There are also springs (which thing is farre more straunge)Which not the bodye only, but the mynd doo also chaunge.Whoo hath not heard of Salmacis, that fowle and filthye sink?Or of the lake of Aethyop, which if a man doo drink, He eyther ronneth mad, or else with woondrous drowzinesseForgoeth quyght his memorie? Whoo ever dooth represseHis thirst with drawght of Clitor well, hates wyne, and dooth delyghtIn only water: eyther for bycause there is a myghtContrary unto warming wyne by nature in the well, Or else bycause (for so the folk of Arcadye doo tell)Melampus, Amythaons sonne (when he delivered hadKing Praetus daughters by his charmes and herbes from being mad),Cast into that same water all the baggage wherewithallHe purdgd the madnesse of theyr mynds. And so it did befall, That lothsomnesse of wyne did in those waters ay remayne.Ageine in Lyncest contrarie effect to this dooth reigne.For whoo so drinkes too much therof, he reeleth heere and thereAs if by quaffing wyne no whyt alayd he droonken were.There is a Lake in Arcadye which Pheney men did name In auncient tyme, whoose dowtfulnesse deserveth justly blame.A nyght tymes take thou heede of it, for if thou taste the sameA nyghttymes, it will hurt. But if thou drink it in the dayIt hurteth not.
Thus lakes and streames (as well perceyve yee may)Have divers powres and diversly. Even so the tyme hathe beene That Delos which stands stedfast now, on waves was floting seene.And Galyes have beene sore afrayd of frusshing by the IlesSymplegads which togither dasht uppon the sea erewhyles,But now doo stand unmovable ageinst bothe wynde and tyde.Mount Aetna with his burning Oovens of brimstone shall not byde Ay fyrye: neyther was it so for ever erst. For whitherThe earth a living creature bee, and that to breathe out hitherAnd thither flame, great store of vents it have in sundry places,And that it have the powre to shift those vents in divers caces,Now damming theis, now opening those, in moving to and fro: Or that the whisking wynds restreynd within the earth bylowe,Doo beate the stones ageinst the stones, and other kynd of stuffeOf fyrye nature, which doo fall on fyre with every puffe:Assoone as those same wynds doo cease, the caves shall streight bee cold.Or if it bee a Rozen mowld that soone of fyre takes hold, Or brimstone mixt with clayish soyle on fyre dooth lyghtly fall:Undowtedly assoone as that same soyle consumed shallNo longer yeeld the fatty foode to feede the fyre withall,And ravening nature shall forgo her woonted nourishment,Then being able to abyde no longer famishment, For want of sustenance it shall cease his burning. I doo fyndBy fame, that under Charlsis wayne in Pallene are a kyndOf people which by dyving thryce three tymes in Triton lakeBecomme all fethred, and the shape of birdes uppon them take.The Scythian witches also are reported for to doo The selfsame thing (but hardly I give credit therunto)By smearing poyson over all theyr bodyes. But (and ifA man to matters tryde by proof may saufly give beleef,)Wee see how flesh by lying still a whyle and ketching heateDooth turne to little living beastes. And yit a further feate, Go kill an Ox and burye him, (the thing by proof man sees)And of his rotten flesh will breede the flowergathering Bees,Which as theyr father did before, love feeldes exceedingly,And unto woork in hope of gayne theyr busye limbes apply.The Hornet is engendred of a lustye buryed Steede. Go pull away the cleas from Crabbes that in the sea doo breede,And burye all the rest in mowld, and of the same will springA Scorpion which with writhen tayle will threaten for to sting.The Caterpillers of the feelde the which are woont to weaveHore filmes uppon the leaves of trees, theyr former nature leave, (Which thing is knowen to husbandmen) and turne to Butterflyes.The mud hath in it certeine seede wherof greene frosshes ryse.And first it brings them footelesse foorth. Then after, it dooth frameLegges apt to swim: and furthermore of purpose that the sameMay serve them for to leape afarre, theyr hinder part is mych More longer than theyr forepart is. The Bearwhelp also whichThe Beare hath newly littred, is no whelp immediatly.But like an evill favored lump of flesh alyve dooth lye.The dam by licking shapeth out his members orderlyOf such a syse, as such a peece is able to conceyve.Or marke yee not the Bees of whom our hony wee receyve,How that theyr yoong ones which doo lye within the sixsquare waxAre limblesse bodyes at the first, and after as they wexIn processe take bothe feete and wings? What man would think it trewThat Ladye Venus simple birdes, the Dooves of silver hew, Or Junos bird that in his tayle beares starres, or Joves stowt knyghtThe Earne, and every other fowle of whatsoever flyght,Could all bee hatched out of egges, onlesse he did it knowe?Sum folk doo hold opinion when the backebone which dooth groweIn man, is rotten in the grave, the pith becommes a snake. Howbee't of other things all theis theyr first beginning take.One bird there is that dooth renew itself and as it wereBeget it self continually. The Syrians name it thereA Phoenix. Neyther come nor herbes this Phoenix liveth by,But by the jewce of frankincence and gum of Amomye. And when that of his lyfe well full fyve hundred yeeres are past,Uppon a Holmetree or uppon a Date tree at the lastHe makes him with his talants and his hardened bill a nest.Which when that he with Casia sweete and Nardus soft hathe drest,And strowed it with Cynnamom and Myrrha of the best, He rucketh downe uppon the same, and in the spyces dyes.Soone after, of the fathers corce men say there dooth aryseAnother little Phoenix which as many yeeres must liveAs did his father. He (assoone as age dooth strength him giveTo beare the burthen) from the tree the weyghty nest dooth lift, And godlyly his cradle thence and fathers herce dooth shift.And flying through the suttle aire he gettes to Phebus towne,And there before the temple doore dooth lay his burthen downe.But if that any noveltye woorth woondring bee in theis,Much rather may we woonder at the Hyen if we please. To see how interchaungeably it one whyle dooth remayneA female, and another whyle becommeth male againe.The creature also which dooth live by only aire and wynd,All colours that it leaneth to dooth counterfet by kynd.The Grapegod Bacchus, when he had subdewd the land of Inde, Did fynd a spotted beast cald Lynx, whoose urine (by report)By towching of the open aire congealeth in such sort,As that it dooth becomme a stone. So Corall (which as longAs water hydes it is a shrub and soft) becommeth strongAnd hard assoone as it dooth towch the ayre. The day would end, And Phebus panting steedes should in the Ocean deepe descend,Before all alterations I in woordes could comprehend.So see wee all things chaungeable. One nation gathereth strength:Another wexeth weake: and bothe doo make exchaunge at length.So Troy which once was great and strong as well in welth as men, And able tenne yeeres space to spare such store of blood as then,Now beeing bace hath nothing left of all her welth to showe,Save ruines of the auncient woorkes which grasse dooth overgrowe,And tumbes wherin theyr auncetours lye buryed on a rowe.Once Sparta was a famous towne: Great Mycene florisht trim: Bothe Athens and Amphions towres in honor once did swim.A pelting plot is Sparta now: great Mycene lyes on ground.Of Theab the towne of Oedipus what have we more than sound?Of Athens, king Pandions towne, what resteth more than name?Now also of the race of Troy is rysing (so sayth fame) The Citie Rome, which at the bank of Tyber that dooth ronneDowne from the hill of Appennyne) already hath begonneWith great advysement for to lay foundation of her state.This towne then chaungeth by increase the forme it had alate,And of the universall world in tyme to comme shall hold The sovereintye, so prophesies and lotts (men say) have told.And as (I doo remember mee) what tyme that Troy decayd,The prophet Helen, Priams sonne, theis woordes ensewing saydBefore Aenaeas dowting of his lyfe in weeping plyght:O Goddesse sonne, beleeve mee (if thou think I have foresyght Of things to comme) Troy shalnot quyght decay whyle thou doost live.Bothe fyre and swoord shall unto thee thy passage freely give.Thou must from hence: and Troy with thee convey away in haste,Untill that bothe thyself and Troy in forreine land bee plaastMore freendly than thy native soyle. Moreover I foresee, A Citie by the offspring of the Trojans buylt shall bee,So great as never in the world the lyke was seene beforeNor is this present, neyther shall be seene for evermore.A number of most noble peeres for manye yeeres aforeShall make it strong and puyssant: but hee that shall it make The sovereine Ladye of the world, by ryght descent shall takeHis first beginning from thy sonne the little Jule. And whenThe earth hathe had her tyme of him, the sky and welkin thenShall have him up for evermore, and heaven shall bee his end.
Thus farre (I well remember mee) did Helens woordes extend To good Aenaeas. And it is a pleasure unto meeThe Citie of my countrymen increasing thus to see:And that the Grecians victorie becommes the Trojans weale.But lest forgetting quyght themselves our horses happe to stealeBeyond the mark: the heaven and all that under heaven is found, Dooth alter shape. So dooth the ground and all that is in ground.And wee that of the world are part (considring how wee beeNot only flesh, but also sowles, which may with passage freeRemove them into every kynd of beast both tame and wyld)Let live in saufty honestly with slaughter undefyld, The bodyes which perchaunce may have the spirits of our brothers,Our sisters, or our parents, or the spirits of sum othersAlyed to us eyther by sum freendshippe or sum kin,Or at the least the soules of men abyding them within.And let us not Thyesteslyke thus furnish up our boordes With bloodye bowells. Oh how leawd example he afoordes.How wickedly prepareth he himself to murther manThat with a cruell knyfe dooth cut the throte of Calf, and canUnmovably give heering to the lowing of the damOr sticke the kid that wayleth lyke the little babe, or eate The fowle that he himself before had often fed with meate.What wants of utter wickednesse in woorking such a feate?What may he after passe to doo? well eyther let your steeresWeare out themselves with woork, or else impute theyr death to yeeres.Ageinst the wynd and weather cold let Wethers yeeld yee cotes, And udders full of batling milk receyve yee of the Goates.Away with sprindges, snares, and grinnes, away with Risp and net.Away with guylefull feates: for fowles no lymetwiggs see yee set.No feared fethers pitche yee up to keepe the Red deere in,Ne with deceytfull bayted hooke seeke fishes for to win. If awght doo harme, destroy it, but destroy't and doo no more.Forbeare the flesh: and feede your mouthes with fitter foode therfore.
Men say that Numa furnisshed with such philosophyeAs this and like, returned to his native soyle, and byEntreatance was content of Rome to take the sovereintye. Ryght happy in his wyfe which was a nymph, ryght happy inHis guydes which were the Muses nyne, this Numa did beginTo teach Religion, by the meanes whereof hee shortly drewThat people unto peace whoo erst of nought but battell knew.And when through age he ended had his reigne and eeke his lyfe, Through Latium he was moorned for of man and chyld and wyfeAs well of hygh as low degree. His wyfe forsaking quyghtThe Citie, in vale Aricine did hyde her out of syght,Among the thickest groves, and there with syghes and playnts did letThe sacrifyse of Diane whom Orestes erst had fetFrom Taurica in Chersonese, and in that place had set.How oft ah did the woodnymphes and the waternymphes perswadeEgeria for to cease her mone. What meanes of comfort madeThey. Ah how often Theseus sonne her weeping thus bespake.O Nymph, thy moorning moderate: thy sorrow sumwhat slake: 'Not only thou hast cause to heart thy fortune for to take.Behold like happes of other folkes, and this mischaunce of thyneShall greeve thee lesse. Would God examples (so they were not myne)Myght comfort thee. But myne perchaunce may comfort thee. If thouIn talk by hap hast heard of one Hippolytus ere now, That through his fathers lyght beleefe, and stepdames craft was slayne,It will a woonder seeme to thee, and I shall have much payneTo make thee to beleeve the thing. But I am very hee.The daughter of Pasyphae in vayne oft tempting meeMy fathers chamber to defyle, surmysde mee to have sought The thing that shee with al her hart would fayne I should have wrought.And whither it were for feare I should her wickednesse bewray,Or else for spyght bycause I had so often sayd her nay,Shee chardgd mee with hir owne offence. My father by and byCondemning mee, did banish mee his Realme without cause whye. And at my going like a fo did ban me bitterly.To Pitthey Troyzen outlawelike my chariot streight tooke I.My way lay hard uppon the shore of Corinth. SoodeinlyThe sea did ryse, and like a mount the wave did swell on hye,And seemed huger for to growe in drawing ever nye,And roring clyved in the toppe. Up starts immediatlyA horned bullocke from amid the broken wave, and byThe brest did rayse him in the ayre, and at his nostrills andHis platter mouth did puffe out part of sea uppon the land.My servants harts were sore afrayd. But my hart musing ay Uppon my wrongfull banishment, did nought at all dismay.My horses setting up theyr eares and snorting wexed shye,And beeing greatly flayghted with the monster in theyr eye,Turnd downe to sea: and on the rockes my wagon drew. In vayneI stryving for to hold them backe, layd hand uppon the reyne All whyght with fome, and haling backe lay almost bolt upryght.And sure the feercenesse of the steedes had yeelded to my might,But that the wheele that ronneth ay about the Extree round,Did breake by dashing on a stub, and overthrew to ground.Then from the Charyot I was snatcht the brydles beeing cast About my limbes. Yee myght have seene my sinewes sticking fastUppon the stub: my gutts drawen out alyve: my members, partStill left uppon the stump, and part foorth harryed with the cart:The crasshing of my broken bones: and with what passing peyneI breathed out my weery ghoste. There did not whole remayneOne peece of all my corce by which yee myght discerne as thoWhat lump or part it was. For all was wound from toppe to toe.Now canst thou, nymph, or darest thou compare thy harmes with myne?Moreover I the lightlesse Realme behild with theis same eyne,And bathde my tattred bodye in the river Phlegeton, And had not bright Apollos sonne his cunning shewde upponMy bodye by his surgery, my lyfe had quyght bee gone.Which after I by force of herbes and leechecraft had ageineReceyvd by Aesculapius meanes, though Pluto did disdeine,Then Cynthia (lest this gift of hers myght woorke mee greater spyght) Thicke clowds did round about mee cast. And to th'entent I myghtBee saufe myself, and harmelessely appeere to others syght:Shee made mee old. And for my face, shee left it in such plyght,That none can knowe mee by my looke. And long shee dowted whitherTo give mee Dele or Crete. At length refusing bothe togither, Shee plaast mee heere. And therwithall shee bade me give up quyghtThe name that of my horses in remembrance put mee myght.For whereas erst Hippolytus hath beene thy name (quoth shee)I will that Virbie afterward thy name for ever bee.From that tyme foorth within this wood I keepe my residence, As of the meaner Goddes, a God of small magnificence,And heere I hyde mee underneathe my sovereine Ladyes wingObeying humbly to her hest in every kynd of thing.But yit the harmes of other folk could nothing help nor booteAegerias sorrowes to asswage. Downe at a mountaines foote Shee lying melted into teares, till Phebus sister sheeneFor pitie of her greate distresse in which shee had her seene,Did turne her to a fountaine cleere, and melted quyght awayHer members into water thinne that never should decay.