Betweene the fountaines of Cyane and Arethuse of PiseAn arme of Sea that meetes enclosde with narrow homes there lies.Of this the Poole callde Cyane which beareth greatest fameAmong the Nymphes of Sicilie did algates take the name.Who vauncing hir unto the waste amid hir Poole did know Dame Proserpine, and said to Dis: Ye shall no further go:You cannot Ceres sonneinlawe be, will she so or no.You should have sought hir courteously and not enforst hir so.And if I may with great estates my simple things compare,Anapus was in love with me: but yet he did not fareAs you doe now with Proserpine. He was content to wooAnd I unforst and unconstreind consented him untoo.This said, she spreaded forth hir armes and stopt him of his way.His hastie wrath Saturnus sonne no lenger then could stay.But chearing up his dreadfull Steedes did smight his royall mace With violence in the bottome of the Poole in that same place.The ground streight yeelded to his stroke and made him way to Hell,And downe the open gap both horse and Chariot headlong fell.Dame Cyan taking sore to heart as well the ravishmentOf Proserpine against hir will, as also the contempt Against hir fountaines priviledge, did shrowde in secret hartAn inward corsie comfortlesse, which never did departUntill she melting into teares consumde away with smart.The selfesame waters of the which she was but late agoThe mighty Goddesse, now she pines and wastes hirselfe into. Ye might have seene hir limmes wex lithe, ye might have bent hir bones.Hir nayles wext soft: and first of all did melt the smallest ones:As haire and fingars, legges and feete: for these same slender partsDoe quickly into water turne, and afterward convertsTo water, shoulder, backe, brest, side: and finally in stead Of lively bloud, within hir veynes corrupted there was spredThinne water: so that nothing now remained whereuponYe might take holde, to water all consumed was anon.The carefull mother in the while did seeke hir daughter deareThrough all the world both Sea and Land, and yet was nere the neare. The Morning with hir deawy haire hir slugging never found,Nor yet the Evening star that brings the night upon the ground.Two seasoned Pynetrees at the mount of Aetna did she lightAnd bare them restlesse in hir handes through all the dankish night.Againe as soone as chierfull day did dim the starres, she sought Hir daughter still from East to West. And being overwroughtShe caught a thirst: no liquor yet had come within hir throte.By chaunce she spied nere at hand a pelting thatched CoteWyth peevish doores: she knockt thereat, and out there commes a trot.The Goddesse asked hir some drinke and she denide it not: But out she brought hir by and by a draught of merrie go downeAnd therewithall a Hotchpotch made of steeped Barlie browneAnd Flaxe and Coriander seede and other simples moreThe which she in an Earthen pot together sod before.While Ceres was a eating this, before hir gazing stood A hard faaste boy, a shrewde pert wag, that could no maners good:He laughed at hir and in scorne did call hir greedie gut.The Goddesse being wroth therewith, did on the Hotchpotch putThe liquor ere that all was eate, and in his face it threw.Immediatly the skinne thereof became of speckled hew, And into legs his armes did turne: and in his altred hideA wrigling tayle streight to his limmes was added more beside.And to th'intent he should not have much powre to worken scathe,His bodie in a little roume togither knit she hathe.For as with pretie Lucerts he in facion doth agree: So than the Lucert somewhat lesse in every poynt is he.The poore old woman was amazde: and bitterly she wept:She durst not touche the uncouth worme, who into corners crept.And of the flecked spottes like starres that on his hide are setA name agreeing thereunto in Latine doth he get. It is our Swift whose skinne with gray and yellow specks is fret.What Lands and Seas the Goddesse sought it were too long to saine.The worlde did want. And so she went to Sicill backe againe.And as in going every where she serched busily,She also came to Cyane: who would assuredly Have tolde hir all things, had she not transformed bene before.But mouth and tongue for uttrance now would serve hir turne no more.Howbeit a token manifest she gave hir for to knowWhat was become of Proserpine. Her girdle she did showStill hovering on hir holie poole, which slightly from hir fell As she that way did passe: and that hir mother knew too well.For when she saw it, by and by as though she had but thanBene new advertisde of hir chaunce, she piteously beganTo rend hir ruffled haire, and beate hir handes against hir brest.As yet she knew not where she was. But yet with rage opprest, She curst all landes, and said they were unthankfull everychone,Yea and unworthy of the fruites bestowed them upon.But bitterly above the rest she banned Sicilie,In which the mention of hir losse she plainely did espie.And therefore there with cruell hand the earing ploughes she brake, And man and beast that tilde the grounde to death in anger strake.She marrde the seede, and eke forbade the fieldes to yeelde their frute.The plenteousnesse of that same lie of which there went suche bruitThrough all the world, lay dead: the come was killed in the blade:Now too much drought, now too much wet did make it for to fade. The starres and blasting windes did hurt, the hungry foules did eateThe come in ground: the Tines and Briars did overgow the Wheate.And other wicked weedes the corne continually annoy,Which neyther tylth nor toyle of man was able to destroy.

Then Arethuse, floud Alpheys love, lifts from hir Elean waves Hir head, and shedding to hir eares hir deawy haire that wavesAbout hir foreheade sayde: O thou that art the mother deareBoth of the Maiden sought through all the world both far and neare,And eke of all the earthly fruites, forbeare thine endlesse toyle,And be not wroth without a cause with this thy faithfull soyle: The Lande deserves no punishment. Unwillingly, God wote,She opened to the Ravisher that violently hir smote.It is not sure my native soyle for which I thus entreate.I am but here a sojourner, my native soyle and seateIs Pisa and from Ely towne I fetch my first discent. I dwell but as a straunger here: but sure to my intentThis Countrie likes me better farre than any other land.Here now I Arethusa dwell: here am I setled: andI humbly you beseche extend your favour to the same.A time will one day come when you to mirth may better frame, And have your heart more free from care, which better serve me mayTo tell you why I from my place so great a space doe stray,And unto Ortygie am brought through so great Seas and waves.The ground doth give me passage free, and by the lowest cavesOf all the Earth I make my way, and here I raise my heade, And looke upon the starres agayne neare out of knowledge fled.Now while I underneath the Earth the Lake of Styx did passe,I saw your daughter Proserpine with these same eyes. She wasNot merrie, neyther rid of feare as seemed by hir cheere.But yet a Queene, but yet of great God Dis the stately Feere: But yet of that same droupie Realme the chiefe and sovereigne Peere.Hir mother stoode as starke as stone, when she these newes did heare,And long she was like one that in another worlde had beene.But when hir great amazednesse by greatnesse of hir teeneWas put aside, she gettes hir to hir Chariot by and by And up to heaven in all post haste immediately doth stie.And there beslowbred all hir face: hir haire about hir eares,To royall Jove in way of plaint this spightfull tale she beares:As well for thy bloud as for mine a suter unto theeI hither come. If no regard may of the mother bee Yet let the childe hir father move, and have not lesser careOf hir (I pray) bicause that I hir in my bodie bare.Behold our daughter whome I sought so long is found at last:If finding you it terme, when of recoverie meanes is past.Or if you finding do it call to have a knowledge whereShe is become. Hir ravishment we might consent to beare,So restitution might be made. And though there were to meNo interest in hir at all, yet forasmuche as sheIs yours, it is unmeete she be bestowde upon a theefe.Jove aunswerde thus: My daughter is a Jewell deare and leefe: A collup of mine owne flesh cut as well as out of thine.But if we in our heartes can finde things rightly to define,This is not spight but love. And yet Madame in faith I seeNo cause of such a sonne in law ashamed for to bee,So you contented were therewith. For put the case that hee Were destitute of all things else, how greate a matter istJoves brother for to be? but sure in him is nothing mist.Nor he inferior is to me save only that by lotThe Heavens to me, the Helles to him the destnies did allot.But if you have so sore desire your daughter to divorce, Though she againe to Heaven repayre I doe not greatly force.But yet conditionly that she have tasted there no foode:For so the destnies have decreed. He ceaste: and Ceres stoodeFull bent to fetch hir daughter out: but destnies hir withstoode,Bicause the Maide had broke hir fast. For as she hapt one day In Plutos Ortyard rechlessely from place to place to stray,She gathering from a bowing tree a ripe Pownegarnet, tookeSeven kernels out and sucked them. None chaunst hereon to looke,Save onely one Ascalaphus whome Orphne, erst a DameAmong the other Elves of Hell not of the basest fame, Bare to hir husbande Acheron within hir duskie den.He sawe it, and by blabbing it ungraciously as then,Did let hir from returning thence. A grievous sigh the QueeneOf Hell did fetch, and of that wight that had a witnesse beeneAgainst hir made a cursed Birde. Upon his face she shead The water of the Phlegeton: and by and by his headWas nothing else but Beake and Downe, and mightie glaring eyes.Quight altred from himselfe betweene two yellow wings he flies.He groweth chiefly into head and hooked talants longAnd much adoe he hath to flaske his lazie wings among. The messenger of Morning was he made, a filthie fowle,A signe of mischiefe unto men, the sluggish skreching Owle.This person for his lavish tongue and telling tales might seemeTo have deserved punishment. But what should men esteemeTo be the verie cause why you, Acheloes daughters, weare Both feete and feathers like to Birdes, considering that you beareThe upper partes of Maidens still? And commes it so to passeBicause when Ladie Proserpine a gathering flowers was,Ye Meremaides kept hir companie? Whome after you had soughtThrough all the Earth in vaine, anon of purpose that your thought Might also to the Seas be knowen, ye wished that ye mightUpon the waves with hovering wings at pleasure rule your flight,And had the Goddes to your request so pliant, that ye foundWith yellow feathers out of hand your bodies clothed round:Yet lest that pleasant tune of yours ordeyned to delight The hearing, and so high a gift of Musicke perish mightFor want of uttrance, humaine voyce to utter things at will And countnance of virginitie remained to you still.But meane betweene his brother and his heavie sister gothGod Jove, and parteth equally the yeare betweene them both. And now the Goddesse Proserpine indifferently doth reigneAbove and underneath the Earth, and so doth she remaineOne halfe yeare with hir mother and the resdue with hir Feere. Immediatly she altred is as well in outwarde cheereAs inwarde minde. For where hir looke might late before appeere Sad even to Dis, hir countnance now is full of mirth and graceEven like as Phebus having put the watrie cloudes to chace,Doth shew himselfe a Conqueror with bright and shining face.

Then fruitfull Ceres voide of care in that she did recoverHir daughter, prayde thee, Arethuse, the storie to discover, What caused thee to fleete so farre and wherefore thou becameA sacred spring? The waters whist. The Goddesse of the sameDid from the bottome of the Well hir goodly head up reare.And having dried with hir hand hir faire greene hanging heare,The River Alpheys auncient loves she thus began to tell. I was (quoth she) a Nymph of them that in Achaia dwell.There was not one that earnester the Lawndes and forests soughtOr pitcht hir toyles more handsomly. And though that of my thoughtIt was no part, to seeke the fame of beautie: though I wereAll courage: yet the pricke and prise of beautie I did beare. My overmuch commended face was unto me a spight.This gift of bodie in the which another would delight,I, rudesbye, was ashamed of: me thought it was a crimeTo be belikte. I beare it well in minde that on a timeIn comming wearie from the chase of Stymphalus, the heate Was fervent, and my traveling had made it twice as great.I founde a water neyther deepe nor shallow which did glideWithout all noyse, so calme that scarce the moving might be spide.And throughly to the very ground it was so crispe and cleare,That every little stone therein did plaine aloft appeare. The horie Sallowes and the Poplars growing on the brimUnset, upon the shoring bankes did cast a shadow trim.I entred in, and first of all I deeped but my feete:And after to my knees. And not content to wade so fleete,I put off all my clothes, and hung them on a Sallow by And threw my selfe amid the streame, which as I dallyinglyDid beate and draw, and with my selfe a thousand maistries trie,In casting of mine armes abrode and swimming wantonly:I felt a bubling in the streame I wist not how nor what,And on the Rivers nearest brim I stept for feare. With that, O Arethusa, whither runst? and whither runst thou, crideFloud Alphey from his waves againe with hollow voyce. I hideAway unclothed as I was. For on the further sideMy clothes hung still. So much more hote and eger then was he,And for I naked was, I seemde the readier for to be. My running and his fierce pursuite was like as when ye seThe sillie Doves with quivering wings before the Gossehauke stie,The Gossehauke sweeping after them as fast as he can flie.To Orchomen, and Psophy land, and Cyllen I did holdeOut well, and thence to Menalus and Erymanth the colde, And so to Ely. All this way no ground of me he wonne.But being not so strong as he, this restlesse race to runneI could not long endure, and he could hold it out at length.Yet over plaines and wooddie hilles (as long as lasted strength)And stones, and rockes, and desert groundes I still maintaind my race. The Sunne was full upon my backe. I saw before my faceA lazie shadow: were it not that feare did make me see't.But certenly he feared me with trampling of his feete:And of his mouth the boystous breath upon my hairlace blew.Forwearied with the toyle of flight: Helpe, Diane, I thy true And trustie Squire (I said) who oft have caried after theeThy bow and arrowes, now am like attached for to bee.The Goddesse moved, tooke a cloude of such as scattred wereAnd cast upon me. Hidden thus in mistie darkenesse thereThe River poard upon me still and hunted round about The hollow cloude, for feare perchaunce I should have scaped out.And twice not knowing what to doe he stalkt about the cloudeWhere Diane had me hid, and twice he called out aloude:Hoe Arethuse, hoe Arethuse. What heart had I poore wretch then?Even such as hath the sillie Lambe that dares not stirre nor quetch when He heares the howling of the Wolfe about or neare the foldes,Or such as hath the squatted Hare that in hir foorme beholdesThe hunting houndes on every side, and dares not move a whit,He would not thence, for why he saw no footing out as yit.And therefore watcht he narrowly the cloud and eke the place. A chill colde sweat my sieged limmes opprest, and downe apaceFrom all my bodie steaming drops did fall of watrie hew.Which way so ere I stird my foote the place was like a stew.The deaw ran trickling from my haire. In halfe the while I thenWas turnde to water, that I now have tolde the tale agen. His loved waters Alphey knew, and putting off the shapeOf man the which he tooke before bicause I should not scape,Returned to his proper shape of water by and byOf purpose for to joyne with me and have my companie.But Delia brake the ground, at which I sinking into blinde Bycorners, up againe my selfe at Ortigie doe winde,Right deare to me bicause it doth Dianas surname beare,And for bicause to light againe I first was raysed there.Thus far did Arethusa speake: and then the fruitfull DameTwo Dragons to hir Chariot put, and reyning hard the same, Midway beweene the Heaven and Earth she in the Ayer went,And unto Prince Triptolemus hir lightsome Chariot sentTo Pallas Citie lode with come, commaunding him to soweSome part in ground new broken up, and some thereof to strowIn ground long tillde before. Anon the yong man up did stieAnd flying over Europe and the Realme of Asias hie,Alighted in the Scithian land. There reyned in that coastA King callde Lyncus, to whose house he entred for to host.And being there demaunded how and why he thither came,And also of his native soyle and of his proper name,I hight (quoth he) Triptolemus and borne was in the towneOf Athens in the land of Greece, that place of high renowne.I neyther came by Sea nor Lande, but through the open AireI bring with me Dame Ceres giftes which being sowne in faireAnd fertile fields may fruitfull Harvests yeelde and finer fare. The savage King had spight, and to th'intent that of so rareAnd gracious gifts himselfe might seeme first founder for to be,He entertainde him in his house, and when asleepe was he,He came upon him with a sword: but as he would have killde him,Dame Ceres turnde him to a Lynx, and waking tother willde him His sacred Teemeware through the Ayre to drive abrode agen.The chiefe of us had ended this hir learned song, and thenThe Nymphes with one consent did judge that we the GoddessesOf Helicon had wonne the day. But when I sawe that theseUnnurtred Damsels overcome began to fall a scolding, I sayd: so little sith to us you thinke your selves beholding,For bearing with your malapertnesse in making chalenge, thatBesides your former fault, ye eke doe fall to rayling flat,Abusing thus our gentlenesse: we will from hence proceedeThe punishment, and of our wrath the rightfull humor feede. Euippyes daughters grinnd and jeerde and set our threatnings light.But as they were about to prate, and bent their fistes to smightTheyr wicked handes with hideous noyse, they saw the stumps of quillesNew budding at their nayles, and how their armes soft feather hilles.Eche saw how others mouth did purse and harden into Bill, And so becomming uncouth Birdes to haunt the woods at will.For as they would have clapt their handes their wings did up them heave,And hanging in the Ayre the scoldes of woods did Pies them leave.Now also being turnde to Birdes they are as eloquentAs ere they were, as chattring still, as much to babling bent.

Tritonia unto all these wordes attentive hearing bendes,And both the Muses learned song and rightfull wrath commendes.And thereupon within hir selfe this fancie did arise:It is no matter for to prayse: but let our selfe deviseSome thing to be commended for: and let us not permit Our Majestie to be despisde without revenging it.And therewithall she purposed to put the Lydian MaideArachne to hir neckeverse who (as had to hir bene saide)Presumed to prefer hir selfe before hir noble graceIn making cloth. This Damsell was not famous for the place In which she dwelt, nor for hir stocke, but for hir Arte. Hir SierWas Idmon, one of Colophon, a pelting Purple Dier.Hir mother was deceast: but she was of the baser sort,And egall to hir Make in birth, in living, and in port.But though this Maide were meanly borne, and dwelt but in a shed At little Hypep: yet hir trade hir fame abrode did spredEven all the Lydian Cities through. To see hir wondrous workeThe Nymphes that underneath the Vines of shadie Tmolus lurkeTheir Vineyards oftentimes forsooke. So did the Nymphes alsoAbout Pactolus oftentimes their golden streames forgo. And evermore it did them good not only for to seeHir clothes already made, but while they eke a making beeSuch grace was in hir workmanship. For were it so that sheeThe newshorne fleeces from the sheepe in bundels deftly makes,Or afterward doth kemb the same, and drawes it out in flakes Along like cloudes, or on the Rocke doth spinne the handwarpe woofe,Or else embroydreth, certenly ye might perceive by proofeShe was of Pallas bringing up, which thing she nathelesseDenyeth, and disdaining such a Mistresse to confesse,Let hir contend with me, she saide: and if she me amend I will refuse no punishment the which she shall extend.Minerva tooke an olde wives shape and made hir haire seeme gray,And with a staffe hir febled limmes pretended for to stay.Which done, she thus began to speake: Not all that age doth bringWe ought to shonne. Experience doth of long continuance spring. Despise not mine admonishment. Seeke fame and chiefe reportFor making cloth, and Arras worke, among the mortall sort.But humbly give the Goddesse place: and pardon of hir craveFor these thine unadvised wordes. I warrant thou shalt haveForgivenesse, if thou aske it hir. Arachne bent hir brewes And lowring on hir, left hir worke: and hardly she eschewesFrom flying in the Ladies face. Hir countnance did bewrayHir moodie minde: which bursting forth in words she thus did say:Thou commest like a doting foole: thy wit is spent with yeares:Thy life hath lasted over long as by thy talke appeares. And if thou any daughter have, or any daughtrinlawe,I would she heard these wordes of mine: I am not such a Daw,But that without thy teaching I can well ynough adviseMy selfe. And lest thou shouldest thinke thy words in any wiseAvaile, the selfesame minde I keepe with which I first begonne. Why commes she not hirselfe I say? this matche why doth she shonne?Then said the Goddesse: Here she is. And therewithall she castHir oldewives riveled shape away, and shewde hir selfe at lastMinerva like. The Nymphes did streight adore hir Majestie.So did the yong newmaried wives that were of Migdonie. The Maiden only unabasht woulde nought at all relent.But yet she blusht and sodenly a ruddynesse besprentHir cheekes which wanzd away againe, even like as doth the SkieLooke sanguine at the breake of day, and turneth by and byTo white at rising of the Sunne. As hote as any fire She sticketh to hir tackling still. And through a fond desireOf glorie, to hir owne decay all headlong forth she runnes.For Pallas now no lenger warnes, ne now no lenger shunnesNe seekes the chalenge to delay. Immediatly they cameAnd tooke their places severally, and in a severall frame Eche streynde a web, the warpe whereof was fine. The web was tideUpon a Beame. Betweene the warpe a stay of reede did slide.The woofe on sharpened pinnes was put betwixt the warp, and wroughtWith fingars. And as oft as they had through the warpe it brought,They strake it with a Boxen combe. Both twayne of them made hast: And girding close for handsomnesse their garments to their wastBestirde their cunning handes apace. Their earnestnesse was suchAs made them never thinke of paine. They weaved verie muchFine Purple that was dide in Tyre, and colours set so trimThat eche in shadowing other seemde the very same with him. Even like as after showres of raine when Phebus broken beamesDoe strike upon the Cloudes, appeares a compast bow of gleamesWhich bendeth over all the Heaven: wherein although there shineA thousand sundry colours, yet the shadowing is so fine,That looke men nere so wistly, yet beguileth it their eyes: So like and even the selfsame thing eche colour seemes to riseWhereas they meete, which further off doe differ more and more.Of glittring golde with silken threede was weaved there good store.And stories put in portrayture of things done long afore.Minerva painted Athens towne and Marsis rocke therein, And all the strife betweene hirselfe and Neptune, who should winThe honor for to give the name to that same noble towne.In loftie thrones on eyther side of Jove were settled downeSix Peeres of Heaven with countnance grave and full of Majestie,And every of them by his face discerned well might be. The Image of the mightie Jove was Kinglike. She had madeNeptunus standing striking with his long thre tyned bladeUpon the ragged Rocke: and from the middle of the cliftShe portrayd issuing out a horse, which was the noble giftFor which he chalengde to himselfe the naming of the towne. She picturde out hirselfe with shielde and Morion on hir crowneWith Curet on hir brest, and Speare in hand with sharpened ende.She makes the Earth (the which hir Speare doth seeme to strike) to sendeAn Olyf tree with fruite thereon: and that the Gods thereatDid wonder: and with victorie she finisht up that plat. Yet to th'intent examples olde might make it to be knowneTo hir that for desire of praise so stoutly helde hir owne,What guerdon she shoulde hope to have for hir attempt so madde,Foure like contentions in the foure last corners she did adde.

The Thracians Heme and Rodope the formost corner hadde: Who being sometime mortall folke usurpt to them the nameOf Jove and Juno, and were turnde to mountaines for the same.A Pigmie womans piteous chaunce the second corner shewde,Whome Juno turned to a Crane (bicause she was so lewdeAs for to stand at strife with hir for beautie) charging hirAgainst hir native countriefolke continuall war to stir.The thirde had proude Antigone, who durst of pride contendeIn beautie with the wife of Jove: by whome she in the endeWas turned to a Storke. No whit availed hir the towneOf Troy, or that Laomedon hir father ware a crowne, But that she, clad in feathers white, hir lazie wings must flap.And with a bobbed Bill bewayle the cause of hir missehap.The last had chyldelesse Cinyras: who being turnde to stone,Was picturde prostrate on the grounde, and weeping all alone,And culling fast betweene his armes a Temples greeces fine To which his daughters bodies were transformde by wrath divine.The utmost borders had a wreath of Olyf round about,And this is all the worke the which Minerva portrayd out.For with the tree that she hirselfe had made but late aforeShe bounded in hir Arras cloth, and then did worke no more. The Lydian maiden in hir web did portray to the fullHow Europe was by royall Jove beguilde in shape of Bull.A swimming Bull, a swelling Sea, so lively had she wrought,That Bull and Sea in very deede ye might them well have thought.The Ladie seemed looking backe to landwarde and to crie Upon hir women, and to feare the water sprinkling hie,And shrinking up hir fearfull feete. She portrayd also thereAsteriee struggling with an Erne which did away hir beare.And over Leda she had made a Swan his wings to splay.She added also how by Jove in shape of Satyr gaye The faire Antiope with a paire of children was besped:And how he tooke Amphitrios shape when in Alcmenas bedHe gate the worthie Hercules: and how he also cameTo Danae like a shoure of golde, to Aegine like a flame,A sheepeherd to Mnemosyne, and like a Serpent sly To Proserpine. She also made Neptunus leaping byUpon a Maide of Aeolus race in likenesse of a Bull,And in the streame Enipeus shape begetting on a trullThe Giants Othe and Ephialt, and in the shape of RamBegetting one Theophane Bisalties ympe with Lam, And in a lustie Stalions shape she made him covering thereDame Ceres with the yellow lockes, and hir whose golden heareWas turnde to crawling Snakes: on whome he gate the winged horse.She made him in a Dolphins shape Melantho to enforce.Of all these things she missed not their proper shapes, nor yit The full and just resemblance of their places for to hit.In likenesse of a Countrie cloyne was Phebus picturde there,And how he now ware Gossehaukes wings, and now a Lions heare.And how he in a shepeherdes shape was practising a wileThe daughter of one Macarie, dame Issa, to beguile. And how the faire Erygone by chaunce did suffer rapeBy Bacchus who deceyved hir in likenesse of a grape.And how that Saturne in the shape of Genet did begetThe double Chiron. Round about the utmost Verdge was setA narrow Traile of pretie floures with leaves of Ivie fret. Not Pallas, no, nor spight it selfe could any quarrell pickeTo this hir worke: and that did touch Minerva to the quicke.Who thereupon did rende the cloth in pieces every whit,Bicause the lewdnesse of the Gods was biased so in it.And with an Arras weavers combe of Box she fiercely smit Arachne on the forehead full a dozen times and more.The Maide impacient in hir heart, did stomacke this so sore,That by and by she hung hirselfe. Howbeit as she hing,Dame Pallas pitying hir estate, did stay hir in the stringFrom death, and said: Lewde Callet live: but hang thou still for mee. And lest hereafter from this curse that time may set thee free,I will that this same punishment enacted firmely bee,As well on thy posteritie for ever as on thee.And after when she should depart, with juice of Hecats flowreShe sprinkled hir: and by and by the poyson had such powre, That with the touch thereof hir haire, hir eares, and nose did fade:And verie small it both hir heade and all hir bodie made.In steade of legs, to both hir sides sticke fingars long and fine:The rest is bellie. From the which she nerethelesse doth twineA slender threede, and practiseth in shape of Spider stillThe Spinners and the Websters crafts of which she erst had skill.

All Lydia did repine hereat, and of this deede the fameThrough Phrygie ran, and through the world was talking of the same.Before hir mariage Niobe had knowen hir verie well,When yet a Maide in Meonie and Sipyle she did dwell. And yet Arachnes punishment at home before hir eyes,To use discreter kinde of talke it could hir not advise,Nor (as behoveth) to the Gods to yeelde in humble wise.For many things did make hir proud. But neyther did the towneThe which hir husband builded had, nor houses of renowne Of which they both descended were, nor yet the puissanceOf that great Realme wherein they reignde so much hir minde enhaunce(Although the liking of them all did greatly hir delight)As did the offspring of hir selfe. And certenly she mightHave bene of mothers counted well most happie, had she not So thought hir selfe. For she whome sage Tyresias had begot,The Prophet Manto, through instinct of heavenly powre, did sayThese kinde of wordes in open strete: Ye Thebanes go your wayApace, and unto Laton and to Latons children pray,And offer godly Frankinsence, and wreath your haire with Bay. Latona by the mouth of me commaundes you so to do.The Thebane women by and by obeying thereunto,Deckt all their heades with Laurell leaves as Manto did require,And praying with devout intent threw incense in the fire.Beholde out commeth Niobe environde with a garde Of servaunts and a solemne traine that followed afterward.She was hirselfe in raiment made of costly cloth of goldeOf Phrygia facion verie brave and gorgeous to beholde.And of hir selfe she was right faire and beautifull of face,But that hir wrathfull stomake then did somewhat staine hir grace. She moving with hir portly heade hir haire the which as thenDid hang on both hir shoulders loose, did pawse a while, and whenWyth loftie looke hir stately eyes she rolled had about:What madnesse is it (quoth she) to prefer the heavenly routOf whome ye doe but heare, to such as daily are in sight? Or why should Laton honored be with Altars? Never wightTo my most sacred Majestie did offer incense. YitMy Father was that Tantalus whome only as most fitThe Gods among them at their boordes admitted for to sit.A sister of the Pleyades is my mother. Finally My Graundsire on the mothers side is that same Atlas hieThat on his shoulders beareth up the heavenly Axeltree.Againe my other Graundfather is Jove, and (as you see)He also is my Fathrinlawe, wherein I glorie may.The Realme of Phrygia here at hand doth unto me obay. In Cadmus pallace I thereof the Ladie doe remaineAnd joyntly with my husbande I as peerlesse Princesse reigneBoth over this same towne whose walles my husbands harpe did frame,And also over all the folke and people in the same.In what soever corner of my house I cast mine eye, A worlde of riches and of goods I everywhere espie.Moreover for the beautie, shape, and favor growen in me,Right well I know I doe deserve a Goddesse for to be.Besides all this, seven sonnes I have and daughters seven likewise,By whome shall shortly sonneinlawes and daughtrinlawes arise. Judge you now if that I have cause of statelynesse or no.How dare ye then prefer to me Latona that same froThe Titan Ceus ympe, to whome then readie downe to lieThe hugy Earth a little plot to childe on did denie?From Heaven, from Earth, and from the Sea your Goddesse banisht was, And as an outcast through the world from place to place did passe,Untill that Delos pitying hir, sayde Thou doste fleete on landAnd I on Sea, and thereupon did lende hir out of handA place unstable. Of two twinnes there brought abed was she:And this is but the seventh part of the issue borne by me. Right happie am I. Who can this denie? and shall so still IContinue. Who doth doubt of that? Abundance hath and willPreserve me. I am greater than that frowarde fortune mayEmpeache me. For although she should pull many things away,Yet should she leave me many more. My state is out of feare. Of thys my huge and populous race surmise you that it werePossible some of them should misse: yet can I never beSo spoyled that no mo than two shall tarie styll with me.Leave quickly thys lewde sacrifice, and put me off this BayThat on your heads is wreathed thus. They laide it streight away And left their holie rites undone, and closely as they mayWith secret whispring to themselves to Laton they dyd pray.How much from utter barrennesse the Goddesse was: so muchDisdeind she more: and in the top of Cynthus framed suchComplaint as this to both hir twinnes. Lo I your mother deare, Who in my bodie once you twaine with painefull travail beare,Loe I whose courage is so stout as for to yeelde to noneOf all the other Goddesses except Joves wife alone,Am lately doubted whether I a Goddesse be or no.And if you helpe not, children mine, the case now standeth so That I the honor must from hence of Altars quight forgo.But this is not mine only griefe. Besides hir wicked factMost railing words hath Niobe to my defacing rackt.She durst prefer hir Barnes to you. And as for me, she naamdeMe barren in respect of hir, and was no whit ashaamde To shewe hir fathers wicked tongue which she by birth doth take.This said: Latona was about entreatance for to make.Cease off (quoth Phebus) long complaint is nothing but delayOf punishment, and the selfesame wordes did Phebe also say.

And by and by they through the Ayre both gliding swiftly downe, On Cadmus pallace hid in cloudes did light in Thebe towne.A fielde was underneath the wall both levell, large and wide,Betrampled every day with horse that men therin did ride,Where store of Carres and Horses hoves the cloddes to dust had trode.A couple of Amphions sonnes on lustie coursers rode In this same place. Their horses faire Coperisons did weareOf scarlet: and their bridles brave with golde bedecked were.Of whome as Niobs eldest sonne Ismenos hapt to bringHis horse about, and reynde him in to make him keepe the ring,He cride alas: and in his brest with that an arrow stacke And by and by hys dying hand did let the bridle slacke.And on the right side of the horse he slipped to the ground.The second brother Sipylus did chaunce to heare the soundOf Quivers clattring in the Ayre, and giving streight the reyneAnd spur togither to his horse, began to flie amayne: As doth the master of a ship: who when he sees a shoureApproching, by some mistie cloud that ginnes to gloume and loureDoth clap on all his sayles bicause no winde should scape him byThough nere so small. Howbeit as he turned for to flie,He was not able for to scape the Arrow which did stricke Him through the necke. The nocke thereof did shaking upward sticke,The head appeared at his throte. And as he forward gaveHimselfe in flying: so to ground he groveling also drave,And toppled by the horses mane and feete amid his race,And with his warme newshedded bloud berayed all the place. But Phedimus, and Tantalus, the heir of the nameOf Tantalus, his Graundfather, who customably cameFrom other dailie exercise to wrestling, had begunTo close, and eache at other now with brest to brest to run,When Phebus Arrow being sent with force from streyned string Did strike through both of them as they did fast togither cling.And so they sighed both at once, and both at once for paineFell downe to ground, and both of them at once their eyes did streineTo see their latest light, and both at once their ghostes did yeelde.Alphenor this mischaunce of theirs with heavie heart behelde, And scratcht and beate his wofull brest: and therewith flying outTo take them up betweene his armes, was as he went aboutThis worke of kindly pitie, killde. For Phebus with a DartOf deadly dint did rive him through the Bulke and brake his hart.And when the steale was plucked out, a percell of his liver Did hang upon the hooked heade: and so he did deliverHis life and bloud into the Ayre departing both togither.But Damasicthon (on whose heade came never scissor) feltMo woundes than one. It was his chaunce to have a grievous peltUpon the verie place at which the leg is first begun And where the hamstrings by the joynt with supple sinewes runAnd while to draw this arrow out he with his hand assaide,Another through his wezant went, and at the feathers staide.The bloud did drive out this againe, and spinning high did spoutA great way off, and pierst the Ayre with sprinkling all about. The last of all Ilionie with streched handes, and specheMost humble (but in vaine) did say: O Gods I you besecheOf mercie all in generall. He wist not what he saideNe how that unto all of them he ought not to have praide.The God that helde the Bow in hande was moved: but as then The Arrow was alredie gone so farre, that backe agenHe could not call it. Neerthelesse the wound was verie smallOf which he dide, for why his heart it did but lightly gall.The rumor of the mischiefe selfe, and mone of people, andThe weeping of hir servants gave the mother t'understand The sodaine stroke of this mischaunce. She wondred verie muchAnd stormed also that the Gods were able to doe suchA deede, or durst attempt it, yea she thought it more than rightThat any of them over hir should have so mickle might.Amphion had fordone himselfe alreadie with a knife, And ended all his sorrowes quite togither with his life.Alas, alas how greatly doth this Niobe differ hereFrom tother Niobe who alate disdaining any PereDid from Latonas Altars drive hir folke, and through the towneWith haultie looke and stately gate went pranking up and downe, Then spighted at among hir owne, but piteous now to those:That heretofore for hir deserts had bene hir greatest foes.She falleth on the corses colde, and taking no regard,Bestowde hir kysses on hir sonnes as whome she afterwardeDid know she never more shoulde kisse. From whome she lifting thoe Hir blew and broosed armes to heaven sayd: O thou cruell foeLatona, feede, yea feede thy selfe I say upon my woeAnd overgorge thy stomacke, yea and glut thy cruell hartWith these my present painefull pangs of bitter griping smart.In corses seven I seven times deade am caried to my grave. Rejoyce thou foe and triumph now in that thou seemste to haveThe upper hande. What? upper hand? no no it is not so.As wretched as my case doth seeme, yet have I left me moThan thou for all thy happinesse canst of thine owne account.Even after all these corses yet I still doe thee surmount. Upon the ende of these same wordes the twanging of the stringIn letting of the Arrow flie was clearly heard: which thingMade every one save Niobe afraide. Hir heart was soWith sorrowe hardned, that she grew more bolde. Hir daughters thoWere standing all with mourning weede and hanging haire before Their brothers coffins. One of them in pulling from the soreAn Arrow sticking in his heart, sanke downe upon hir brotherWith mouth to mouth, and so did yeelde hir fleeting ghost. AnotherIn comforting the wretched case and sorrow of hir motherUpon the sodaine helde hir peace. She stricken was within With double wound: which caused hir hir talking for to blinAnd shut hir mouth: but first hir ghost was gone. One all in vaineAttempting for to scape by flight was in hir flying slaine.Another on hir sisters corse doth tumble downe starke dead.This quakes and trembles piteously, and she doth hide hir head. And when that sixe with sundrye woundes dispatched were and gone,At last as yet remained one: and for to save that one,Hir mother with hir bodie whole did cling about hir fast,And wrying hir did over hir hir garments wholy cast:And cried out: O leave me one: this little one yet save: Of many but this only one the least of all I crave.But while she prayd, for whome she prayd was kild. Then down she sateBereft of all hir children quite, and drawing to hir fate,Among hir daughters and hir sonnes and husband newly dead.Hir cheekes waxt hard, the Ayre could stirre no haire upon hir head. The colour of hir face was dim and clearly voide of blood,And sadly under open lids hir eyes unmoved stood.In all hir bodie was no life. For even hir verie tungAnd palat of hir mouth was hard, and eche to other clung.Hir Pulses ceased for to beate, hir necke did cease to bow, Hir armes to stir, hir feete to go, all powre forwent as now.And into stone hir verie wombe and bowels also bind.But yet she wept: and being hoyst by force of whirling windWas caried into Phrygie. There upon a mountaines topShe weepeth still in stone. From stone the drerie teares do drop.