The Centaure Chyron in the while was glad of Phebus boy,And as the burthen brought some care the honor brought him joy.Upon a time with golden lockes about hir shoulders spread,A daughter of the Centaurs (whome a certaine Nymph had bredAbout the brooke Caycus bankes) that hight Ocyroe Came thither. This same fayre yong Nymph could not contented beTo learne the craft of Surgerie as perfect as hir Sire,But that to learne the secret doomes of Fate she must aspire.And therfore when the furious rage of frenzie had hir cought,And that the spright of Prophecie enflamed had hir thought, She lookt upon the childe and saide: Sweete babe the Gods thee makeA man. For all the world shall fare the better for thy sake.All sores and sicknesse shalt thou cure: thy powre shall eke be syche,To make the dead alive again. For doing of the whicheAgainst the pleasure of the Gods, thy Graundsire shall thee strike So with his fire, that never more thou shalt performe the like.And of a God a bludlesse corse, and of a corse (full straunge)Thou shalt become a God againe, and twice thy nature chaunge.And thou my father liefe and deare, who now by destinie,Art borne to live for evermore and never for to die, Shalt suffer such outragious paine throughout thy members all,By wounding of a venimde dart that on thy foote shall fall,That oft thou shalt desire to die, and in the latter endThe fatall dames shall breake thy threede and thy desire thee send.There was yet more behinde to tell, when sodenly she fet A sore deepe sigh, and downe hir cheekes the teares did trickle wet.Mine owne misfortune (quoth she) now hath overtake me sure.I cannot utter any more, for words waxe out of ure.My cunning was not worth so much as that it should procureThe wrath of God. I feele by proufe far better had it bene: If that the chaunce of things to come I never had foreseene.For now my native shape withdrawes. Me thinkes I have delightTo feede on grasse and fling in fieldes: I feele my selfe so light.I am transformed to a Mare like other of my kinne.But wherfore should this brutish shape all over wholy winne? Considering that although both horse and man my father bee:Yet is his better part a man as plainly is to see.The latter ende of this complaint was fumbled in such wise,As what she meant the standers by could scarcely well devise.Anon she neyther semde to speake nor fully for to ney, But like to one that counterfeites in sport the Mare to play.Within a while she neyed plaine, and downe hir armes were pightUpon the ground all clad with haire, and bare hir bodie right.Hir fingers joyned all in one, at ende wherof did growIn stede of nayles a round tough hoofe of welked horne bylow. Hir head and necke shot forth in length, hir kirtle trayne becameA faire long taile. Hir flaring haire was made a hanging Mane.And as hir native shape and voyce most monstrously did passe,So by the uncoth name of Mare she after termed was.
The Centaure Chyron wept hereat: and piteously dismaide Did call on thee (although in vaine) thou Delphian God for ayde.For neyther lay it in thy hande to breake Joves mighty hest,And though it had, yet in thy state as then thou did not rest.In Elis did thou then abide and in Messene lande.It was the time when under shape of shepehierde with a wande Of Olyve and a pipe of reedes thou kept Admetus sheepe.Now in this time that (save of Love) thou tooke none other keepe,And madste thee merrie with thy pipe, the glistring Maias sonneBy chaunce abrode the fields of Pyle spide certaine cattle runneWithout a hierde, the which he stole and closely did them hide Among the woods. This pretie slight no earthly creature spide,Save one old churle that Battus hight. This Battus had the chargeOf welthie Neleus feeding groundes, and all his pastures large,And kept a race of goodly Mares. Of him he was afraide.And lest by him his privie theft should chaunce to be bewraide, He tooke a bribe to stop his mouth, and thus unto him saide:My friend I pray thee if perchaunce that any man enquireThis cattell say thou saw them not. And take thou for thy hireThis faire yong Bullocke. Tother tooke the Bullocke at his hand,And shewing him a certaine stone that lay upon the lande, Sayd, go thy way: Assoone this stone thy doings shall bewray,As I shall doe. So Mercurie did seeme to go his way.Annon he commes me backe againe, and altred both in specheAnd outward shape, saide: Countrieman Ich heartely bezeche,And if thou zawest any kie come royling through this grounde, Or driven away, tell what he was and where they may be vownde.And I chill gethee vor thy paine an Hecfar and hir match.The Carle perceyving double gaine, and greedy for to catch,Sayde: Under yon same hill they were, and under yon same hillCham zure they are, and with his hand he poynted thereuntill. At that Mercurius laughing saide: False knave: and doste bewrayMe to my selfe? doste thou bewray me to my selfe I say?And with that word strayt to a stone he turnde his double heart,In which the slaunder yet remaines without the stones desart.