And now in ship of Pagasa the Mynies cut the seas.And leading under endlesse night his age in great diseaseOf scarcitie was Phiney seene, and Boreas sonnes had chasteAway the Maidenfaced foules that did his victels waste.And after suffring many things in noble Jasons band, In muddie Phasis gushing streame at last they went aland.There while they going to the King demaund the golden fleeceBrought thither certaine yeares before by Phryxus out of Greece,And of their dreadfull labors wait an answere to receive:Aeetas daughter in hir heart doth mightie flames conceyve. And after strugling verie long, when reason could not winThe upper hand of rage: she thus did in hir selfe begin:In vaine, Medea, doste thou strive: some God what ere he isAgainst thee bendes his force. For what a wondrous thing is this?Is any thing like this which men doe terme by name of Love? For why should I my fathers hestes esteeme so hard aboveAll measure? sure in very deede they are too hard and sore.Why feare I lest yon straunger whome I never saw beforeShould perish? what should be the cause of this my feare so great?Unhappie wench (and if thou canst) suppresse this uncouth heat That burneth in thy tender brest: and if so be I coulde,A happie turne it were, and more at ease then be I shoulde.But now an uncouth maladie perforce against my willDoth hale me. Love persuades me one, another thing my skill.The best I see and like: the worst I follow headlong still. Why being of the royall bloud so fondly doste thou rave,Upon a straunger thus to dote, desiring for to haveAn husband of another world? at home thou mightest findeA lover meete for thine estate on whome to set thy minde.And yet it is but even a chaunce if he shall live or no: God graunt him for to live. I may without offence pray so,Although I lovde him not: for what hath Jason trespast me?Who woulde not pitie Jasons youth onlesse they cruell be?What creature is there but his birth and prowesse might him move?And setting all the rest asyde, who woulde not be in love With Jasons goodlie personage? my heart assuredlyIs toucht therewith. But if that I provide not remedie,With burning breath of blasting Bulles needes sindged must he bee.Of seedes that he himselfe must sow a harvest shall he seeOf armed men in battell ray upon the ground up grow Against the which it hoveth him his manhode for to show.And as a pray he must be set against the Dragon fell.If I these things let come to passe, I may confesse right wellThat of a Tyger I was bred: and that within my brestA heart more harde than any steele or stonie rocke doth rest. Why rather doe I not his death with wrathfull eyes beholde?And joy with others seeing him to utter perill solde?Why doe I not enforce the Bulles against him? Why, I say,Exhort I not the cruell men which shall in battell rayArise against him from the ground? and that same Dragon too Within whose eyes came never sleepe? God shield I so should doo.But prayer smally bootes, except I put to helping hand.And shall I like a Caytife then betray my fathers land?Shall I a straunger save whome we nor none of ours doth know?That he by me preserved may without me homeward row? And take another to his wife, and leave me, wretched wight,To torments? If I wist that he coulde worke me such a spight,Or could in any others love than only mine delight,The Churle should die for me. But sure he beareth not the faceLike one that wold doe so. His birth, his courage, and his grace Doe put me clearly out of doubt he will not me deceyve,No nor forget the great good turnes he shall by me receyve.Yet shall he to me first his faith for more assurance plightAnd solemly he shall be sworne to keepe the covenant right.Why fearste thou now without a cause? step to it out of hand: And doe not any lenger time thus lingring fondly stand.For ay shall Jason thinke himselfe beholding unto thee:And shall thee marrie solemly: yea honored shalt thou beeOf all the Mothers great and small throughout the townes of GreeceFor saving of their sonnes that come to fetch the golden fleece. And shall I then leave brother, sister, father, kith and kin?And household Gods, and native soyle, and all that is therein?And saile I know not whither with a straunger? Yea: why not?My father surely cruell is, my Countrie rude God wot:My brother yet a verie babe: my sister I dare sayContented is with all hir heart that I should go away:The greatest God is in my selfe: the things I doe forsakeAre trifles in comparison of those that I shall take.For saving of the Greekish ship renoumed shall I bee.A better place I shall enjoy with Cities riche and free, Whose fame doth florish fresh even here, and people that excellIn civill life and all good Artes: and whome I would not sellFor all the goods within the worlde, Duke Aesons noble sonne.Whome had I to my lawfull Feere assuredly once wonne,Most happie yea and blest of God I might my selfe account, And with my head above the starres to heaven I should surmount.But men report that certaine rockes (I know not what) doe meeteAmid the waves, and monstrously againe asunder fleete:And how Charybdis, utter foe to ships that passe thereby,Now sowpeth in, now speweth out the Sea incessantly: And ravening Scylla being hemde with cruell dogs about,Amids the gulfe of Sicilie doth make a barking out.What skilleth that? As long as I enjoy the thing I love,And hang about my Jasons necke, it shall no whit me moveTo saile the daungerous Seas: as long as him I may embrace I cannot surely be afraide in any kinde of case.Or if I chaunce to be afraide, my feare shall only tendeBut for my husband. Callste thou him thy husband? Doste pretendeGay titles to thy foule offence, Medea? nay not so:But rather looke about how great a lewdnesse thou doste go, And shun the mischiefe while thou mayst. She had no sooner saidThese wordes, but right and godlinesse and shamefastnesse were staidBefore hir eyes, and frantick love did flie away dismaid.She went me to an Altar that was dedicate of oldeTo Perseys daughter Hecate (of whome the witches holde As of their Goddesse) standing in a thicke and secrete woodSo close it coulde not well be spide: and now the raging moodOf furious love was well alaide and clearely put to flight:When spying Aesons sonne, the flame that seemed quenched quightDid kindle out of hand againe. Hir cheekes began to glowe,And flushing over all hir face the scarlet bloud did flowe.And even as when a little sparke that was in ashes hid,Uncovered with the whisking windes is from the ashes rid,Eftsoones it taketh nourishment and kindleth in such wise,That to his former strength againe and flaming it doth rise: Even so hir quailed love which late ye would have thought had quightBene vanisht out of minde, as soone as Jason came in sightDid kindle to his former force in vewing of the graceWith which he did avaunce himselfe then comming there in place.And (as it chaunced) farre more faire and beautifull of face She thought him then than ever erst, but sure it doth behoveHir judgement should be borne withall bicause she was in love.She gapte and gazed in his face with fixed staring eyenAs though she never had him seene before that instant time.So farre she was beside hir selfe she thought it should not bee The face of any worldly wight the which she then did see.She was not able for hir life to turne hir eyes away,But when he tooke hir by the hand and speaking gan to prayHir softly for to succor him, and promisde faithfullyTo take hir to his wedded wife, she falling by and by A weeping, said: Sir, what I doe I see apparantly.Not want of knowledge of the truth but love shall me deceive.You shalbe saved by my meanes. And now I must receiveA faithfull promise at your hand for saving of your life.He made a solemne vow, and sware to take hir to his wife, By triple Hecates holie rites, and by what other powerSo ever else had residence within that secret bower,And by the Sire of him that should his Fathrinlaw becomeWho all things doth behold, and as he hopte to overcomeThe dreadfull daungers which he had soone after to assay. Duke Jason being credited receivde of hir streight wayEnchaunted herbes: and having learnde the usage of the same,Departed thence with merrie heart, and to his lodging came.Next Morne had chaste the streaming stars: and folke by heapes did flockeTo Marsis sacred field, and there stoode thronging in a shocke, To see the straunge pastimes. The King most stately to beholdeWith yvorie Mace above them all did sit in throne of golde.Anon the brazenhoved Bulles from stonie nostrils castOut flakes of fire: their scalding breath the growing grasse did blast.And looke what noise a chimney full of burning fewell makes, Or Flint in softning in the Kell when first the fire it takesBy sprincling water thereupon: such noyse their boyling brestsTurmoyling with the firie flames enclosed in their chests,Such noise their scorched throtebolles make. Yet stoutly Jason wentTo meete them. They their dreadfull eyes against him grimly bent, 'And eke their homes with yron tipt: and strake the dust aboutIn stamping with their cloven clees: and with their belowing outSet all the fielde upon a smoke. The Mynies seeing thatWere past their wits with sodaine feare, but Jason feeled natSo much as any breath of theirs: such strength hath sorcerie. Their dangling Dewlaps with his hand he coyd unfearfully.And putting yokes upon their neckes he forced them to drawThe heavie burthen of the plough which erst they never saw,And for to breake the fielde which erst had never felt the share.The men of Colchos seeing this, like men amazed fare. The Mynies with their shouting out their mazednesse augment,And unto Jason therewithall give more encouragement.Then in a souldiers cap of steele a Vipers teeth he takes,And sowes them in the new plowde fielde. The ground then soking makesThe seede foresteepte in poyson strong, both supple lithe and soft, And of these teeth a right straunge graine there growes anon aloft.For even as in the mothers wombe an infant doth beginTo take the lively shape of man, and formed is withinTo due proportion piece by piece in every limme, and whenFull ripe he is, he takes the use of Aire with other men: So when that of the Vipers teeth the perfect shape of manWithin the bowels of the earth was formed, they beganTo rise togither orderly upon the fruitefull fielde:And (which a greater wonder is) immediatly they wieldeTheir weapons growing up with them, whom when the Greekes behilde Preparing for to push their Pikes (which sharply headed were)In Jasons face, downe went their heades, their heartes did faint for feare:And also she that made him safe began abasht to bee.For when against one naked man so huge an armie sheeBeheld of armed enmies bent, hir colour did abate And sodainly both voyd of bloud and livelie heate she sate.And lest the chaunted weedes the which she had him given beforeShould faile at neede, a helping charme she whispred overmore,And practisde other secret Artes the which she kept in store.He casting streight a mightie stone amid his thickest foes, Doth voyde the battell from him selfe and turnes it unto those.These earthbred brothers by and by did one another woundAnd never ceased till that all lay dead upon the ground.The Greekes were glad, and in their armes did clasp their Champion stout,And clinging to him earnestly embraced him about. And thou fond Medea too couldst well have found in hartThe Champion for to have embraste, but that withheld thou wartBy shamefastnesse, and yet thou hadst embraced him, if dreadOf stayning of thine honor had not staid thee in that stead.But yet as far forth as thou maist, thou doste in heart rejoyce, And secretly (although without expressing it in voyce)Doste thanke thy charmes and eke the Gods as Authors of the same.Now was remaining as the last conclusion of this game,By force of chaunted herbes to make the watchfull Dragon sleepeWithin whose eyes came never winke: who had in charge to keepe The goodly tree upon the which the golden fleeces hung.With crested head, and hooked pawes, and triple spirting tung,Right ougly was he to beholde. When Jason had besprentHim with the juice of certaine herbes from Lethey River sent,And thrice had mumbled certaine wordes which are of force to cast So sound a sleepe on things that even as dead a time they last,Which make the raging surges calme and flowing Rivers stay,The dreadfull Dragon by and by (whose eyes before that dayWist never erst what sleeping ment) did fall so fast asleepeThat Jason safely tooke the fleece of golde that he did keepe. Of which his bootie being proud, he led with him awayThe Author of his good successe another fairer pray:And so with conquest and a wife he loosde from Colchos strand,And in Larissa haven safe did go againe aland.
The auncient men of Thessalie togither with their wives To Church with offrings gone for saving of their childrens lives.Great heapes of fuming frankincense were fryed in the flameAnd vowed Bulles to sacrifice with homes faire gilded came.But from this great solemnitie Duke Aeson was away,Now at deathes door and spent with yeares. Then Jason thus gan say: O wife to whome I doe confesse I owe my life in deede,Though al things thou to me hast given, and thy deserts exceedeBeleife: yet if enchauntment can, (for what so hard appearesWhich strong enchauntment can not doe?) abate thou from my yeares,And add them to my fathers life. As he these wordes did speake, The teares were standing in his eyes. His godly sute did breakeMedeas heart: who therewithall bethought hir of hir SireIn leaving whome she had exprest a far unlike desire.But yet bewraying not hir thoughts, she said: O Husband fie,What wickednesse hath scapt your mouth? Suppose you then that I Am able of your life the terme where I will to bestow?Let Hecat never suffer that. Your sute (as well you know)Against all right and reason is. But I will put in proofeA greater gift than you require and more for your behoofe.I will assay your father's life by cunning to prolong, And not with your yeares for to make him yong againe and strong:So our threeformed Goddesse graunt with present helpe to standA furthrer of the great attempt the which I take in hand.Before the Moone should circlewise close both hir homes in oneThree nightes were yet as then to come. As soon as that she shone Most full of light, and did behold the earth with fulsome face,Medea with hir haire not trust so much as in a lace,But flaring on hir shoulders twaine, and barefoote, with hir gowneUngirded, gate hir out of doores and wandred up and downeAlone the dead time of the night. Both Man, and Beast, and Bird Were fast asleepe: the Serpents slie in trayling forward stirdSo softly as ye would have thought they still asleepe had bene.The moysting Ayre was whist. No leafe ye could have moving sene.The starres alonly faire and bright did in the welkin shineTo which she lifting up hir handes did thrise hirselfe encline: And thrice with water of the brooke hir haire besprincled shee:And gasping thrise she opte hir mouth: and bowing downe hir kneeUpon the bare hard ground, she said: O trustie time of nightMost faithfull unto privities, O golden starres whose lightDoth jointly with the Moone succeede the beames that blaze by day And thou three headed Hecate who knowest best the wayTo compasse this our great attempt and art our chiefest stay:Ye Charmes and Witchcrafts, and thou Earth which both with herbe and weedOf mightie working furnishest the Wizardes at their neede:Ye Ayres and windes: ye Elves of Hilles, of Brookes, of Woods alone, Of standing Lakes, and of the Night approche ye everychone.Through helpe of whom (the crooked bankes much wondring at the thing)I have compelled streames to run cleane backward to their spring.By charmes I make the calme Seas rough, and make the rough Seas plaine,And cover all the Skie with Cloudes and chase them thence againe. By charmes I raise and lay the windes, and burst the Vipers jaw.And from the bowels of the Earth both stones and trees doe draw.Whole woods and Forestes I remove: I make the Mountaines shake,And even the Earth it selfe to grone and fearfully to quake.I call up dead men from their graves: and thee lightsome MooneI darken oft, though beaten brasse abate thy perill soone.Our Sorcerie dimmes the Morning faire, and darkes the Sun at Noone.The flaming breath of firie Bulles ye quenched for my sakeAnd caused their unwieldie neckes the bended yoke to take.Among the Earthbred brothers you a mortall war did set And brought asleepe the Dragon fell whose eyes were never shet.By meanes whereof deceiving him that had the golden fleeceIn charge to keepe, you sent it thence by Jason into Greece.Now have I neede of herbes that can by vertue of their juiceTo flowring prime of lustie youth old withred age reduce. I am assurde ye will it graunt. For not in vaine have shoneThese twincling starres, ne yet in vaine this Chariot all aloneBy drought of Dragons hither comes. With that was fro the SkieA Chariot softly glaunced downe, and stayed hard thereby.As soone as she had gotten up, and with hir hand had coyd The Dragons reined neckes, and with their bridles somewhat toyd,They mounted with hir in the Ayre, whence looking downe she sawThe pleasant Temp of Thessalie, and made hir Dragons drawTo places further from resort: and there she tooke the viewWhat herbes on high mount Pelion, and what on Ossa grew,And what on mountaine Othris and on Pyndus growing were,And what Olympus (greater than mount Pyndus far) did beare.Such herbes of them as liked hir she pullde up roote and rindeOr cropt them with a hooked knife. And many she did findeUpon the bankes of Apidane agreeing to hir minde: And many at Amphrisus foords: and thou Enipeus ekeDidst yeelde hir many pretie weedes of which she well did like.Peneus and Sperchius streames contributarie were,And so were Boebes rushie bankes of such as growed there.About Anthedon which against the Ile Euboea standes, A certaine kind of lively grasse she gathered with her handes,The name whereof was scarsly knowen or what the herbe could doeUntill that Glaucus afterward was chaunged thereinto.Nine dayes with winged Dragons drawen, nine nights in Chariot swiftShe searching everie field and frith from place to place did shift. She was no sooner home returnde but that the Dragons fellWhich lightly of hir gathered herbes had taken but the smell,Did cast their sloughes and with their sloughes their riveled age forgo.
She would none other house than heaven to hide hir head as tho:But kept hir still without the doores: and as for man was none That once might touch hir. Altars twayne of Turfe she builded: oneUpon hir left hand unto Youth, another on the rightTo tryple Hecat. Both the which as soone as she had dightWith Vervain and with other shrubbes that on the fieldes doe rise,Not farre from thence she digde two pits: and making sacrifice Did cut a couple of blacke Rams throtes and filled with their bloodThe open pits, on which she pourde of warme milke pure and goodA boll full, and another boll of honie clarifide.And babling to hir selfe therewith full bitterly she crideOn Pluto and his ravisht wife the sovereigne states of Hell,And all the Elves and Gods that on or in the Earth doe dwell,To spare olde Aesons life a while, and not in hast depriveHis limmes of that same aged soule which kept them yet alive.Whome when she had sufficiently with mumbling long besought,She bade that Aesons feebled corse should out of doores be brought Before the Altars. Then with charmes she cast him in so deepeA slumber, that upon the herbes he lay for dead asleepe.Which done she willed Jason thence a great way off to goAnd likewise all the Ministers that served hir as tho:And not presume those secretes with unhallowed eyes to see. They did as she commaunded them. When all were voyded, sheeWith scattred haire about hir eares like one of Bacchus froesDevoutly by and by about the burning Altars goes:And dipping in the pits of bloud a sort of clifted brandesUpon the Altars kindled them that were on both hir handes. And thrise with brimstone, thrise with fire, and thrise with water pureShe purged Aesons aged corse that slept and slumbred sure.The medicine seething all the while a wallop in a panOf brasse, to spirt and leape aloft and gather froth began.There boyled she the rootes, seedes, flowres, leaves, stalkes and juice togither Which from the fieldes of Thessalie she late had gathered thither.She cast in also precious stones fetcht from the furthest EastAnd, which the ebbing Ocean washt, fine gravell from the West.She put thereto the deaw that fell upon a Monday night:And flesh and feathers of a Witch, a cursed odious wight Which in the likenesse of an Owle abrode a nightes did flie,And Infants in their cradels chaunge or sucke them that they die.The singles also of a Wolfe which when he list could takeThe shape of man, and when he list the same againe forsake.And from the River Cyniphis which is in Lybie lande She had the fine sheere scaled filmes of water snayles at hand.And of an endlesselived hart the liver had she got,To which she added of a Crowe that then had lived notSo little as nine hundred yeares the head and Bill also.Now when Medea had with these and with a thousand mo Such other kinde of namelesse things bestead hir purpose throughFor lengthning of the old mans life, she tooke a withered boughCut lately from an Olyf tree, and jumbling all togitherDid raise the bottome to the brim: and as she stirred hitherAnd thither with the withered sticke, behold it waxed greene. Anon the leaves came budding out: and sodenly were seeneAs many berries dangling downe as well the bough could beare.And where the fire had from the pan the scumming cast, or whereThe scalding drops did fall, the ground did springlike florish there,And flowres with fodder fine and soft immediatly arose. Which when Medea did behold, with naked knife she goesAnd cuttes the olde mans throte: and letting all his old bloud goSupplies it with the boyled juice: the which when Aeson thoHad at his mouth or at his wounde receyved in, his heareAs well of head as beard from gray to coleblacke turned were.His leane, pale, hore, and withered corse grew fulsome, faire and fresh:His furrowed wrincles were fulfilde with yong and lustie flesh.His limmes waxt frolicke, baine and lithe: at which he wondring much,Remembred that at fortie yeares he was the same or such.And as from dull unwieldsome age to youth he backward drew: Even so a lively youthfull spright did in his heart renew.The wonder of this monstrous act had Bacchus seene from hie,And finding that to youthfull yeares his Nurses might therebyRestored bee, did at hir hand receive it as a gift.
And lest deceitfull guile should cease, Medea found a shift To feyne that Jason and hir selfe were falne at oddes in wroth:And thereupon in humble wise to Pelias Court she goth.Where forbicause the King himselfe was feebled sore with age,His daughters entertainde hir, whome Medea, being sage,Within a while through false pretence of feyned friendship brought To take hir baite. For as she tolde what pleasures she had wroughtFor Jason, and among the rest as greatest sadly toldeHow she had made his father yong that withred was and olde,And taried long upon that point: they hoped glad and faineThat their olde father might likewise his youthful yeares regaine. And this they craving instantly did proffer for hir paineWhat recompence she would desire. She helde hir peace a whileAs though she doubted what to doe: and with hir suttle guileOf counterfetted gravitie more eger did them make.As soone as she had promisde them to doe it for their sake, For more assurance of my graunt, your selves (quoth she) shall seeThe oldest Ram in all your flocke a Lambe streight made to beeBy force of my confections strong. Immediatly a RamSo olde that no man thereabouts remembred him a LamWas thither by his warped homes which turned inward to His hollow Temples, drawne: whose withred throte she slit in two.And when she cleane had drayned out that little bloud that was,Upon the fire with herbes of strength she set a pan of brasse,And cast his carcasse thereinto. The Medcine did abateThe largenesse of his limmes and seard his dossers from his pate, And with his homes abridgde his yeares. Anon was plainly heardThe bleating of a new yeand Lambe from mid the Ketleward.And as they wondred for to heare the bleating, streight the LamLeapt out, and frisking ran to seeke the udder of some Dam.King Pelias daughters were amazde. And when they did beholde Hir promise come to such effect, they were a thousand foldeMore earnest at hir than before. Thrise Phoebus having plucktThe Collars from his horses neckes, in Iber had them duckt.And now in Heaven the streaming starres the fourth night shined cleare:When false Medea on the fire had hanged water shere, With herbes that had no powre at all. The King and all his gardeWhich had the charge that night about his person for to wardeWere through hir nightspels and hir charmes in deadly sleepe all cast.And Pelias daughters with the Witch which eggde them forward, pastInto his chamber by the watch, and compast in his bed. Then: Wherefore stand ye doubting thus like fooles, Medea sed.On: draw your swordes: and let ye out his old bloud, that I mayFill up his emptie veynes againe with youthfull bloud streight way.Your fathers life is in your handes: it lieth now in youTo have him olde and withred still or yong and lustie. Now If any nature in ye be, and that ye doe not feedeA fruitelesse hope, your dutie to your father doe with speede.Expulse his age by sword, and let the filthy matter out.Through these persuasions which of them so ever went aboutTo shewe hirselfe most naturall, became the first that wrought Against all nature: and for feare she should be wicked thought,She executes the wickednesse which most to shun she sought.Yet was not any one of them so bolde that durst abideTo looke upon their father when she strake, but wride asideHir eyes: and so their cruell handes not marking where they hitWith faces turnde another way at all aventure smit.He all beweltred in his bloud awaked with the smart,And maimde and mangled as he was did give a sodeyne startEndevoring to have risen up. But when he did beholdeHimselfe among so many swordes, he lifting up his olde Pale waryish armes, said: Daughters mine what doe ye? who hath putThese wicked weapons in your hands your fathers throte to cut?With that their heartes and handes did faint. And as he talked yet,Medea breaking off his wordes, his windpipe quickly slit,And in the scalding liquor torne did drowne him by and by.
But had she not with winged wormes streight mounted in the skieShe had not scaped punishment, but stying up on hieShe over shadie Pelion flew where Chyron erst did dwell,And over Othrys and the grounds renoumde for that befellTo auncient Ceramb: who such time as old Deucalions flood Upon the face of all the Earth like one maine water stood,By helpe of Nymphes with fethered wings was in the Ayer lift,And so escaped from the floud undrowned by the shift.She left Aeolian Pytanie upon hir left hand: andThe Serpent that became a stone upon the Lesbian sand. And Ida woods where Bacchus hid a Bullocke (as is sayd)In shape of Stag the which his sonne had theevishly convayde.And where the Sire of Corytus lies buried in the dust.The fieldes which Meras (when he first did into barking brust)Affraide with straungenesse of the noyse. And eke Eurypils towne In which the wives of Cos had homes like Oxen on their crowneSuch time as Hercles with his hoste departed from the Ile,And Rhodes to Phoebus consecrate: and Ialyse where ere whileThe Telchines with their noysome sight did every thing bewitch.At which their hainous wickednesse Jove taking rightfull pritch, Did drowne them in his brothers waves. Moreover she did passeBy Ceos and olde Carthey walles where Sir AlcidamasDid wonder how his daughter should be turned to a Dove.The Swannie Temp and Hyries Poole she viewed from above,The which a sodeine Swan did haunt. For Phyllie there for love Of Hyries sonne did at his bidding Birdes and Lions tame,And being willde to breake a Bull performed streight the same:Till wrothfull that his love so oft so streightly should him use,When for his last reward he askt the Bull, he did refuseTo give it him. The boy displeasde, said: Well: thou wilt anon Repent thou gave it not: and leapt downe headlong from a stone.They all supposde he had bene falne: but being made a SwanWith snowie feathers in the Ayre to flacker he began.His mother Hyrie knowing not he was preserved so,Resolved into melting teares for pensivenesse and wo, And made the Poole that beares hir name. Not far from hence doth standThe Citie Brauron, where sometime by mounting from the landWith waving pinions Ophyes ympe, dame Combe, did eschueHir children which with naked swordes to slea hir did pursue.Anon she kend Calaurie fieldes which did sometime pertaine To chast Diana where a King and eke his wife both twaineWere turnde to Birdes. Cyllene hill upon hir right hand stood,In which Menephron like a beast of wilde and savage moodeTo force his mother did attempt. Far thence she spide where sadCephisus mourned for his Neece whome Phebus turned had To ugly shape of swelling Seale: and Eumelles pallace faireLamenting for his sonnes mischaunce with whewling in the Aire.At Corinth with hir winged Snakes at length she did arrive.Here men (so auncient fathers said that were as then alive)Did breede of deawie Mushrommes. But after that hir teene With burning of hir husbands bride by witchcraft wreakt had beeneAnd that King Creons pallace she on blasing fire had seene,And in hir owne deare childrens bloud had bathde hir wicked knifeNot like a mother but a beast bereving them of life:Lest Jason should have punisht hir she tooke hir winged Snakes, And flying thence againe in haste to Pallas Citie makes,Which saw the auncient Periphas and rightuous Phiney tooTogither flying, and the Neece of Polypemon whoWas fastened to a paire of wings as well as t'other two.Aegeus enterteined hir wherein he was to blame Although he had no further gone but staid upon the same.He thought it not to be inough to use hir as his guestOnlesse he tooke hir to his wife.
And now was Thesey prest,Unknowne unto his father yet, who by his knightly forceHad set from robbers cleare the balke that makes the streight divorce Betweene the seas Ionian and Aegean. To have killdeThis worthie knight, Medea had a Goblet readie filldeWith juice of Flintwoort venemous the which she long agoHad out of Scythie with hir brought. The common bruit is soThat of the teeth of Cerberus this Flintwoort first did grow. There is a cave that gapeth wide with darksome entrie low,There goes a way slope downe by which with triple cheyne made newOf strong and sturdie Adamant the valiant Hercle drewThe currish Helhounde Cerberus: who dragging arsward stillAnd writhing backe his scowling eyes bicause he had no skill To see the Sunne and open day, for verie moodie wrothThree barkings yelled out at once, and spit his slavering frothUpon the greenish grasse. This froth (as men suppose) tooke rooteAnd thriving in the batling soyle in burgeons forth did shoote,To bane and mischiefe men withall: and forbicause the same Did grow upon the bare hard Flints, folke gave the foresaid nameOf Flintwoort thereunto. The King by egging of his QueeneDid reach his sonne this bane as if he had his enmie beene.And Thesey of this treason wrought not knowing ought had taneThe Goblet at his fathers hand which helde his deadly bane: When sodenly by the Ivorie hilts that were upon his swordAegeus knew he was his sonne: and rising from the bordeDid strike the mischiefe from his mouth. Medea with a charmeDid cast a mist and so scapte death deserved for the harmeEntended. Now albeit that Aegeus were right glad That in the saving of his sonne so happy chaunce he had,Yet grieved it his heart full sore that such a wicked wightWith treason wrought against his sonne should scape so cleare and quight.Then fell he unto kindling fire on Altars everie whereAnd glutted all the Gods with gifts. The thicke neckt Oxen were With garlands wreathd about their homes knockt downe for sacrifice.A day of more solemnitie than this did never riseBefore on Athens (by report). The auncients of the TowneMade feastes: so did the meaner sort, and every common clowne.And as the wine did sharpe their wits, they sung this song: O knight Of peerlesse prowesse Theseus, thy manhod and thy mightThrough all the coast of Marathon with worthie honor soundes,For killing of the Cretish Bull that wasted those same groundes.The folke of Cremyon thinke themselves beholden unto thee.For that without disquieting their fieldes may tilled be. By thee the land of Epidaure behelde the clubbish sonneOf Vulcane dead. By thee likewise the countrie that doth runneAlong Cephisus bankes behelde the fell Procrustes slaine.The dwelling place of Ceres, our Eleusis glad and faine,Beheld the death of Cercyon. That orpid Sinis who Abusde his strength in bending trees and tying folke thereto,Their limmes asunder for to teare when loosened from the stopsThe trees unto their proper place did trice their streyned tops,Was killde by thee. Thou made the way that leadeth to the towneAlcathoe in Beotia cleare by putting Scyron downe. To this same outlawes scattred bones the land denied rest,And likewise did the Sea refuse to harbrough such a guest:Till after floting to and fro long while as men doe sayAt length they hardened into stones: and at this present dayThe stones are called Scyrons cliffes. Now if we should account Thy deedes togither with thy yeares, thy deedes would far surmountThy yeares. For thee, most valiant Prince, these publike vowes we keepeFor thee with cherefull heartes we quaffe these bolles of wine so deepe.The Pallace also of the noyse and shouting did resoundeThe which the people made for joy. There was not to be founde In all the Citie any place of sadnesse.
Nathelesse(So hard it is of perfect joy to find so great excesse,But that some sorrow therewithall is medled more or lesse),Aegeus had not in his sonnes recoverie such delight,But that there followed in the necke a piece of fortunes spight. King Minos was preparing war, who though he had great storeOf ships and souldiers yet the wrath the which he had beforeConceyved in his fathers brest for murthring of his sonneAndrogeus made him farre more strong and fiercer for to ronneTo rightfull battell to revenge the great displeasure donne. Howbeit he thought it best ere he his warfare did beginTo finde the meanes of forreine aides some friendship for to win.And thereupon with flying fleete where passage did permitHe went to visit all the Iles that in those seas doe sit.Anon the Iles Astypaley and Anaphey both twaine The first constreynde for feare of war, the last in hope of gaine,Tooke part with him. Low Myconey did also with him holdSo did the chalkie Cymoley, and Syphney which of oldeWas verie riche with veynes of golde, and Scyros full of boldeAnd valiant men, and Seryphey the smooth or rather fell, And Parey which for Marblestone doth beare away the bell.And Sythney which a wicked wench callde Arne did betrayFor mony: who upon receit thereof without delayWas turned to a birde which yet of golde is gripple still,And is as blacke as any cole, both fethers, feete and bill. A Cadowe is the name of hir. But yet Olyarey,And Didymey, and Andrey eke, and Tene, and Gyarey,And Pepareth where Olive trees most plenteously doe grow,In no wise would agree their helpe on Minos to bestow.Then Minos turning lefthandwise did sayle to Oenope Where reignde that time King Aeacus. This Ile had called beOf old by name of Oenope: but Aeacus turnde the nameAnd after of his mothers name Aegina callde the same.The common folke ran out by heapes desirous for to seeA man of such renowne as Minos bruited was to bee. The Kings three sonnes Duke Telamon, Duke Peley, and the yongDuke Phocus went to meete with him. Old Aeacus also clungWith age, came after leysurely, and asked him the causeOf his repaire. The ruler of the hundred Shires gan pause:And musing on the inward griefe that nipt him at the hart, Did shape him aunswere thus: O Prince vouchsafe to take my partIn this same godly warre of mine: assist me in the justRevengement of my murthred sonne that sleepeth in the dust.I crave your comfort for his death. Aeginas sonne replide:Thy suite is vaine: and of my Realme perforce must be denide. For unto Athens is no lande more sure than this alide:Such leagues betweene us are which shall infringde for me abide.Away went Minos sad: and said: full dearly shalt thou bieThy leagues. He thought it for to be a better pollicieTo threaten war than war to make, and there to spend his store And strength which in his other needes might much availe him more.As yet might from Oenopia walles the Cretish fleete be kend.When thitherward with puffed sayles and wind at will did tendA ship from Athens, which anon arriving at the strandSet Cephal with Ambassade from his Countrimen aland. The Kings three sonnes though long it were since last they had him seene,Yet knew they him. And after olde acquaintance eft had beeneRenewde by shaking hands, to Court they did him streight convay.This Prince which did allure the eyes of all men by the way,As in whose stately person still remained to be seene The markes of beautie which in flowre of former yeares had beene,Went holding out an Olife braunch that grew in Atticke landeAnd for the reverence of his age there went on eyther handA Nobleman of yonger yeares. Sir Clytus on the rightAnd Butes on the left, the sonnes of one that Pallas hight. When greeting first had past betweene these Nobles and the King,Then Cephal setting streight abroche the message he did bring,Desired aide: and shewde what leagues stoode then in force betweeneHis countrie and the Aeginites, and also what had beeneDecreed betwixt their aunceters, concluding in the ende That under colour of this war which Minos did pretendeTo only Athens, he in deede the conquest did intendeOf all Achaia. When he thus by helpe of learned skillHis countrie message furthred had, King Aeacus leaning stillHis left hand on his scepter, saide: My Lordes, I would not have Your state of Athens seeme so straunge as succor here to crave.I pray commaund. For be ye sure that what this Ile can makeIs yours. Yea all that ere I have shall hazard for your sake.I want no strength. I have such store of souldiers, that I mayBoth vex my foes and also keepe my Realme in quiet stay. And now I thinke me blest of God that time doth serve to showeWithout excuse the great good will that I to Athens owe.God holde it sir (quoth Cephalus) God make the number growOf people in this towne of yours: it did me good alateWhen such a goodly sort of youth of all one age and rate Did meete me in the streete. But yet me thinkes that many misseWhich at my former being here I have beheld ere this.At that the King did sigh, and thus with plaintfull voice did say:A sad beginning afterward in better lucke did stay.I would I plainly could the same before your faces lay. Howbeit I will disorderly repeate it as I may.And lest I seeme to wearie you with overlong delay,The men that you so mindefully enquire for lie in groundAnd nought of them save bones and dust remayneth to be found.But as it hapt what losse thereby did unto me redound? A cruell plague through Junos wrath who dreadfully did hateThis Land that of hir husbands Love did take the name alate,Upon my people fell: as long as that the maladieNone other seemde than such as haunts mans nature usually,And of so great mortalitie the hurtfull cause was hid, We strove by Phisicke of the same the Pacients for to rid.The mischief overmaistred Art: yea Phisick was to seekeTo doe it selfe good. First the Aire with foggie stinking reekeDid daily overdreepe the earth: and close culme Clouds did makeThe wether faint: and while the Moone foure times hir light did take And fillde hir emptie homes therewith, and did as often slake:The warme South windes with deadly heate continually did blow.Infected were the Springs, and Ponds, and streames that ebbe and flow.And swarmes of Serpents crawld about the fieldes that lay untilldeWhich with their poison even the brookes and running water fillde. In sodaine dropping downe of Dogs, of Horses, Sheepe and Kine,Of Birds and Beasts both wild and tame as Oxen, Wolves, and Swine,The mischiefe of this secret sore first outwardly appeeres.The wretched Plowman was amazde to see his sturdie SteeresAmid the furrow sinking downe ere halfe his worke was donne. Whole flocks of sheepe did faintly bleate, and therewithall begonneTheir fleeces for to fall away and leave the naked skin,And all their bodies with the rot attainted were within.The lustie Horse that erst was fierce in field renowne to winAgainst his kinde grew cowardly: and now forgetting quight The auncient honor which he preast so oft to get in fight,Stoode sighing sadly at the Racke as wayting for to yeeldeHis wearie life without renowne of combat in the fielde.The Boare to chafe, the Hinde to runne, the cruell Beare to fallUpon the herdes of Rother beastes had now no lust at all. A languishing was falne on all. In wayes, in woods, in plaines,The filthie carions lay, whose stinche, the Ayre it selfe distaines.(A wondrous thing to tell) not Dogges, not ravening Foules, nor yitHorecoted Wolves would once attempt to tast of them a bit.Looke, where they fell, there rotted they: and with their savor bred More harme, and further still abrode the foule infection spred.
With losse that touched yet more nere, on Husbandmen it crept,And ragingly within the walles of this great Citie stept.It tooke men first with swelting heate that scalt their guts within:The signes whereof were steaming breath and firie colourde skin. The tongue was harsh and swolne, the mouth through drought of burning veinesLay gaping up to hale in breath, and as the pacient streinesTo draw it in, he suckes therewith corrupted Aire beside.No bed, no clothes though nere so thinne the pacients could abide.But laide their hardened stomackes flat against the bare colde ground Yet no abatement of the heate therein their bodies found:But het the earth, and as for Leache was none that helpe could hight.The Surgians and Phisitions too were in the selfesame plight.Their curelesse cunning hurt themselves. The nerer any manApprocheth his diseased friend, and doth the best he canTo succor him most faithfully, the sooner did he catchHis bane. All hope of health was gone. No easment nor dispatchOf this disease except in death and buriall did they finde.Looke, whereunto that eche mans minde and fancie was enclinde,That followed he. He never past what was for his behoofe. For why? that nought could doe them good was felt too much by proofe.In everie place without respect of shame or honestieAt Wels, at brookes, at ponds, at pits, by swarmes they thronging lie:But sooner might they quench their life than staunch their thirst thereby.And therewithall so heavie and unwieldie they become, That wanting power to rise againe, they died there. Yet someThe selfesame waters guzled still without regard of feare,So weary of their lothsome beds the wretched people were,That out they lept: or if to stand their feeble force denide,They wallowed downe and out of doores immediatly them hide: It was a death to every man his owne house to abide.And for they did not know the cause whereof the sicknesse came,The place (bicause they did it know) was blamed for the same.Ye should have seene some halfe fordead go plundring here and thereBy highways sides while that their legges were able them to beare. And some lie weeping on the ground or rolling piteouslyTheir wearie eyes which afterwards should never see the Skie:Or stretching out their limmes to Heaven that overhangs on hie,Some here, some there, and yonder some, in what so ever costeDeath finding them enforced them to yeelde their fainting Ghoste. What heart had I, suppose you, then, or ought I then to have?In faith I might have lothde my life, and wisht me in my graveAs other of my people were. I could not cast mine eieIn any place, but that dead folke there strowed I did spieEven like as from a shaken twig when rotten Apples drop, Or Mast from Beches, Holmes or Okes when Poales doe scare their top.Yon stately Church with greeces long against our Court you see:It is the shrine of Jupiter. What Wight was he or sheeThat on those Altars burned not their frankincense in vaine?How oft, yet even with Frankincense that partly did remaine Still unconsumed in their hands, did die both man and wife,As ech of them with mutuall care did pray for others life?How often dyde the mother there in suing for hir sonne,Unheard upon the Altarstone, hir prayer scarce begonne?How often at the Temple doore even while the Priest did bid His Beades, and poure pure wine betwene their homes, at sodaine slidThe Oxen downe without stroke given? Yea once when I had thoughtMy selfe by offring sacrifice Joves favor to have sought,For me, my Realme, and these three ymps, the Oxe with grievous groneUpon the sodaine sunke me downe: and little bloud or none Did issue scarce to staine the knife with which they slit his throte.The sickly inwardes eke had lost the signes whereby we noteWhat things the Gods for certaintie would warne us of before:For even the verie bowels were attainted with the sore.Before the holie Temple doores, and (that the death might bee The more dispitefull) even before the Altars did I seeThe stinking corses scattred. Some with haltars stopt their winde,By death expulsing feare of death: and of a wilfull mindeDid haste their ende, which of it selfe was coming on apace.The bodies which the plague had slaine were (O most wretched case) Not caried forth to buriall now. For why such store there wasThat scarce the gates were wyde inough for Coffins forth to passe.So eyther lothly on the ground unburied did they lie,Or else without solemnitie were burnt in bonfires hie.No reverence nor regard was had. Men fell togither by The eares for firing. In the fire that was prepared for oneAnother straungers corse was burnt. And lastly few or noneWere left to mourne. The sillie soules of Mothers with their smallAnd tender babes, and age with youth as Fortune did befallWent wandring gastly up and downe unmourned for at all. In fine so farre outrageously this helpelesse Murren raves,There was not wood inough for fire, nor ground inough for graves.Astonied at the stourenesse of so stout a storme of illsI said: O father Jupiter whose mightie power fulfillsBoth Heaven and Earth, if flying fame report thee not amisse In vouching that thou didst embrace in way of Love ere thisThe River Asops daughter, faire Aegina even by name,And that to take me for thy sonne thou count it not a shame:Restore thou me my folke againe, or kill thou me likewise.He gave a signe by sodaine flash of lightning from the Skies, And double peale of Thundercracks. I take this same (quoth I)And as I take it for a true and certaine signe wherebyThou doest confirme me for thy sonne: so also let it beA hansell of some happie lucke thou mindest unto me.Hard by us as it hapt that time, there was an Oken tree With spreaded armes as bare of boughes as lightly one shall see.This tree (as all the rest of Okes) was sacred unto JoveAnd sprouted of an Acorne which was fet from Dodon grove.Here markt we how the pretie Ants, the gatherers up of graine,One following other all along in order of a traine, Great burthens in their little mouthes did painfully sustaine:And nimbly up the rugged barke their beaten path maintaine.As wondring at the swarme I stoode, I said: O father deereAs many people give thou me, as Ants are creeping heere.And fill mine empty walles againe. Anon the Oke did quake, And unconstreynde of any blast, his loftie braunches shake,The which did yeeld a certaine sound. With that for dreadfull feareA shuddring through my bodie strake and up stoode stiffe my heare.But yet I kissed reverently the ground and eke the tree.Howbeit I durst not be so bolde of hope acknowne to bee. Yet hoped I: and in my heart did shroude my secret hope.
Anon came night: and sleepe upon my carefull carcasse crope.Me thought I saw the selfesame Oke with all his boughes and twigs,And all the Pismeres creeping still upon his tawnts and sprigs,Which trembling with a sodaine brayd these Harvest folke off threw And shed them on the ground about, who on the sodaine grewIn bignesse more and more, and from the earth themselves did lift:And stoode upright against the tree: and therewithall did shiftTheir maygernesse, and coleblacke hue, and number of their feete:And clad their limmes with shape of man. Away my sleepe did fleete. And when I wooke, misliking of my dreame I made my moneThat in the Gods I did perceive but slender helpe or none.But straight much trampling up and downe and shuffling did I heare,And (which to me that present time did verie straunge appeare)Of people talking in my house me thought I heard the reare. Now while I musing on the same supposde it to have beenSome fancie of the foolish dreame which lately I had seen,Behold, in comes me Telamon in hast, and thrusting opeMy Chamber doore, said: Sir, a sight of things surmounting hopeAnd credit shall you have: come forth. Forth came I by and by And even such men for all the world there standing did I spieAs in my sleepe I dreamed of, and knew them for the same.They comming to me greeted me, their sovereigne Lord, by name.And I (my vowes to Jove performde) my Citie did devideAmong my new inhabiters: and gave them land beside Which by decease of such as were late owners of the sameLay wast. And in remembrance of the race whereof they came,The name of Emets I them gave. Their persons you have seen:Their disposition is the same that erst in them hath been.They are a sparing kinde of folke, on labor wholy set, A gatherer, and a hoorder up of such as they doe get.These fellowes being like in yeares and courage of the minde,Shall go a warfare ny as soone as that the Easterne windeWhich brought you hither luckely, (the Easterne winde was itThat brought them thither) turning, to the Southerne coast doe flit.
With this and other such like talke they brought the day to ende.The Even in feasting, and the night in sleeping they did spende.The Sunne next Morrow in the heaven with golden beames did burne,And still the Easterne winde did blow and hold them from returne.Sir Pallas sonnes to Cephal came (for he their elder was) And he and they to Aeacus Court togither forth did passe.The King as yet was fast asleepe. Duke Phocus at the gateDid meete them, and receyved them according to their state.For Telamon and Peleus alreadie forth were gone,To muster Souldiers for the warres. So Phocus all alone Did leade them to an inner roume, where goodly Parlours were,And caused them to sit them downe. As he was also thereNow sitting with them, he beheld a Dart in Cephals handWith golden head, the stele whereof he well might understandWas of some straunge and unknowne tree. When certain talke had past A while of other matters there, I am (quoth he) at lastA man that hath delight in woods and loves to follow gameAnd yet I am not able sure by any meanes to ameWhat wood your Javeling stele is of. Of Ash it can not bee.For then the colour should be browne. And if of Cornell tree, It would be full of knubbed knots. I know not what it is:But sure mine eies did never see a fairer Dart than this.The one of those same brethren twaine replying to him said:Nay then the speciall propertie will make you more dismaid,Than doth the beautie of this Dart. It hitteth whatsoever He throwes it at. The stroke thereof by Chaunce is ruled never.For having done his feate, it flies all bloudie backe agenWithout the helpe of any hand. The Prince was earnest thenTo know the truth of all: as whence so riche a present came,Who gave it him, and whereupon the partie gave the same. Duke Cephal answerde his demaund in all points (one except)The which (as knowne apparantly) for shame he overlept:His beautie namely, for the which he did receive the Dart.And for the losse of his deare wife right pensive at the hart,He thus began with weeping eies: This Dart, O Goddesse sonne, (Ye ill would thinke it) makes me yirne, and long shall make me donne,If long the Gods doe give me life. This weapon hath undonneMy deare beloved wife and me. O would to God this sameHad never unto me bene given. There was a noble DameThat Procris hight (but you perchaunce have oftner heard the name Of great Orythia whose renowne was bruited so by fame,That blustring Boreas ravisht hir.) To this Orythia sheeWas sister. If a bodie should compare in ech degreeThe face and natures of them both, he could none other deemeBut Procris worthier of the twaine of ravishment should seeme. Hir father and our mutuall love did make us man and wife.Men said I had (and so I had in deede) a happie life.Howbeit Gods will was otherwise, for had it pleased himOf all this while, and even still yet in pleasure should I swim.The second Month that she and I by band of lawfull bed Had joynde togither bene, as I my masking Toyles did spred,To overthrow the horned Stags, the early Morning grayThen newly having chased night and gun to breake the day,From Mount Hymettus highest tops that freshly flourish ay,Espide me, and against my will conveyde me quight away. I trust the Goddesse will not be offended that I sayThe troth of hir. Although it would delight one to beholdeHir ruddie cheekes: although of day and night the bounds she holde:Although on juice of Ambrosie continually she feede:Yet Procris was the only Wight that I did love in deede. On Procris only was my heart: none other word had IBut Procris only in my mouth: still Procris did I crie.I upned what a holy thing was wedlocke: and how lateIt was ago since she and I were coupled in that state.Which band (and specially so soone) it were a shame to breake. The Goddesse being moved at the words that I did speake,Said: Cease thy plaint, thou Carle, and keepe thy Procris still for me.But (if my minde deceyve me not) the time will shortly beThat wish thou wilt thou had hir not. And so in anger sheTo Procris sent me backe againe. In going homeward as Upon the Goddesse sayings with my selfe I musing was,I gan to dreade bad measures lest my wife had made some scape.Hir youthfull yeares begarnished with beautie, grace and shape,In maner made me to beleve the deede already done.Againe hir maners did forbid mistrusting over soone. But I had bene away: but even the same from whom I cameA shrewde example gave how lightly wives doe run in blame:But we poore Lovers are afraide of all things. HereuponI thought to practise feates: which thing repented me anon:And shall repent me while I live. The purpose of my drifts Was for t'assault hir honestie with great rewards and gifts.The Morning fooding this my feare, to further my device,My shape (which thing me thought I felt) had altered with a trice.By meanes whereof anon unknowne to Pallas towne I came,And entred so my house: the house was clearely voide of blame: And shewed signes of chastitie in mourning ever sithTheir maister had bene rapt away. A thousand meanes wherewithTo come to Procris speach had I devisde: and scarce at lastObteinde I it. As soone as I mine eie upon hir cast,My wits were ravisht in such wise that nigh I had forgot The purposde triall of hir troth. Right much adoe God wotI had to holde mine owne that I the truth bewrayed not.To keepe my selfe from kissing hir full much adoe I hadAs reason was I should have done. She looked verie sad.And yet as sadly as she lookte, no Wight alive can show A better countenance than did she. Hir heart did inward glowIn longing for hir absent spouse. How beautifull a faceThinke you, Sir Phocus, was in hir whome sorrow so did grace?What should I make report how oft hir chast behaviour straveAnd overcame most constantly the great assaults I gave? Or tell how oft she shet me up with these same words? To one(Where ere he is) I keepe my selfe, and none but he aloneShall sure enjoy the use of me. What creature having hisWits perfect would not be content with such a proofe as thisOf hir most stedfast chastitie? I could not be content: But still to purchase to my selfe more wo I further went.At last by profering endlesse welth, and heaping gifts on gifts,In overlading hir with wordes I drave hir to hir shifts.Then cride I out: Thine evill heart my selfe I tardie take.Where of a straunge advouterer the countenance I did make, I am in deede thy husband. O unfaithfull woman thou,Even I my selfe can testifie thy lewde behavior now.She made none answere to my words, but being stricken dumAnd with the sorrow of hir heart alonly overcum,Forsaketh hir entangling house, and naughtie husband quight: And hating all the sort of men by reason of the spightThat I had wrought hir, straide abrode among the Mountaines hie,And exercisde Dianas feates. Then kindled by and byA fiercer fire within my bones than ever was before,When she had thus forsaken me by whome I set such store. I prayde hir she woulde pardon me, and did confesse my fault.Affirming that my selfe likewise with such a great assaultOf richesse might right well have bene enforst to yeelde to blame,The rather if performance had ensewed of the same.When I had this submission made, and she sufficiently Revengde hir wronged chastitie, she then immediatlyWas reconcilde: and afterward we lived many a yeareIn joy and never any jarre betweene us did appeare.Besides all this (as though hir love had bene too small a gift)She gave me eke a goodly Grewnd which was of foote so swift, That when Diana gave him hir, she said he should outgoAll others, and with this same Grewnd she gave this Dart alsoThe which you see I hold in hand. Perchaunce ye faine would knowWhat fortune to the Grewnd befell. I will unto you showA wondrous case. The straungenesse of the matter will you move.
The krinkes of certaine Prophesies surmounting farre aboveThe reach of auncient wits to read, the Brookenymphes did expound:And mindlesse of hir owne darke doubts Dame Themis being found,Was as a rechelesse Prophetisse throwne flat against the ground.For which presumptuous deede of theirs she tooke just punishment. To Thebes in Baeotia streight a cruell beast she sent,Which wrought the bane of many a Wight. The countryfolk did feedHim with their cattell and themselves, untill (as was agreed)That all we youthfull Gentlemen that dwelled there aboutAssembling pitcht our corded toyles the champion fields throughout. But Net ne toyle was none so hie that could his wightnesse stop,He mounted over at his ease the highest of the top.Then everie man let slip their Grewnds, but he them all outstriptAnd even as nimbly as a birde in daliance from them whipt.Then all the field desired me to let my Laelaps go:(The Grewnd that Procris unto me did give was named so)Who strugling for to wrest his necke already from the bandDid stretch his collar. Scarsly had we let him off of handBut that where Laelaps was become we could not understand.The print remained of his feete upon the parched sand,But he was clearly out of sight. Was never Dart I trow,Nor Pellet from enforced Sling, nor shaft from Cretish bow,That flew more swift than he did runne. There was not farre fro thenceAbout the middle of the Laund a rising ground, from whenceA man might overlooke the fieldes. I gate me to the knapOf this same hill, and there beheld of this straunge course the hapIn which the beast seemes one while caught, and ere a man would think,Doth quickly give the Grewnd the slip, and from his bighting shrink:And like a wilie Foxe he runnes not forth directly out,Nor makes a windlasse over all the champion fieldes about, But doubling and indenting still avoydes his enmies lips,And turning short, as swift about as spinning wheele he whips,To disapoint the snatch. The Grewnd pursuing at an inchDoth cote him, never losing ground: but likely still to pinchIs at the sodaine shifted off. Continually he snatches In vaine: for nothing in his mouth save only Aire he latches.Then thought I for to trie what helpe my Dart at neede could show.Which as I charged in my hand by levell aime to throw,And set my fingars to the thongs, I lifting from bylowMine eies, did looke right forth againe, and straight amids the field (A wondrous thing) two Images of Marble I beheld:Of which ye would have thought the t'one had fled on still apaceAnd that with open barking mouth the tother did him chase.In faith it was the will of God (at least if any GoddesHad care of them) that in their pace there should be found none oddes. Thus farre: and then he held his peace. But tell us ere we part(Quoth Phocus) what offence or fault committed hath your Dart?His Darts offence he thus declarde: My Lorde, the ground of allMy grief was joy. Those joyes of mine remember first I shall.It doth me good even yet to thinke upon that blissfull time ( meane the fresh and lustie yeares of pleasant youthfull Prime)When I a happie man enjoyde so faire and good a wife,And she with such a loving make did lead a happie life.The care was like of both of us, the mutuall love all one.She would not to have line with Jove my presence have forgone. Ne was there any Wight that could of me have wonne the love,No though Dame Venus had hir selfe descended from above.The glowing brands of love did burne in both our brests alike.Such time as first with crased beames the Sunne is wont to strikeThe tops of Towres and mountaines high, according to the wont Of youthfull men, in woodie Parkes I went abrode to hunt.But neither horse nor Hounds to make pursuit upon the scent.Nor Servingman, nor knottie toyle before or after went,For I was safe with this same Dart. When wearie waxt mine armeWith striking Deere, and that the day did make me somewhat warme, Withdrawing for to coole my selfe I sought among the shadesFor Aire that from the valleyes colde came breathing in at glades.The more excessive was my heate the more for Aire I sought.I waited for the gentle Aire: the Aire was that that broughtRefreshing to my wearie limmes. And (well I bear't in thought) Come Aire I wonted was to sing, come ease the paine of meWithin my bosom lodge thy selfe most welcome unto me,And as thou heretofore art wont abate my burning heate.By chaunce (such was my destinie) proceeding to repeateMo words of daliance like to these, I used for to say Great pleasure doe I take in thee: for thou from day to dayDoste both refresh and nourish me. Thou makest me delightIn woods and solitarie grounds. Now would to God I mightReceive continuall at my mouth this pleasant breath of thine.Some man (I wote not who) did heare these doubtfull words of mine, And taking them amisse supposde that this same name of AireThe which I callde so oft upon, had bene some Ladie faire:He thought that I had lovde some Nymph. And thereupon streight wayHe runnes me like a Harebrainde blab to Procris, to bewrayThis fault as he surmised it: and there with lavish tung Reported all the wanton words that he had heard me sung.A thing of light beliefe is love. She (as I since have harde)For sodeine sorrow swounded downe: and when long afterwardeShe came againe unto hir selfe, she said she was accurstAnd borne to cruell destinie: and me she blamed wurst For breaking faith: and freating at a vaine surmised shameShe dreaded that which nothing was: she fearde a headlesse name.She wist not what to say or thinke. The wretch did greatly feareDeceit: yet could she not beleve the tales that talked were.Onlesse she saw hir husbands fault apparant to hir eie, She thought she would not him condemne of any villanie.Next day as soone as Morning light had driven the night away,I went abrode to hunt againe: and speeding, as I layUpon the grasse, I said: Come, Aire, and ease my painfull heate.And on the sodaine as I spake there seemed for to beate A certaine sighing in mine eares of what I could not gesse.But ceasing not for that I still proceeded nathelesse:And said, O come, most pleasant Aire. With that I heard a soundOf russling softly in the leaves that lay upon the ground.And thinking it had bene some beast I threw my flying Dart.It was my wife. Who being now sore wounded at the hart,Cride out, Alas. As soone as I perceyved by the shriekeIt was my faithfull spouse, I ran me to the voiceward liekeA madman that had lost his wits. There found I hir halfe dead,Hir scattred garments staining in the bloud that she had bled, And (wretched creature as I am) yet drawing from the woundThe gift that she hir selfe had given. Then softly from the groundI lifted up that bodie of hirs of which I was more chareThan of mine owne, and from hir brest hir clothes in hast I tare.And binding up hir cruell wound I strived for to stay The bloud, and prayd she would not thus by passing so awayForsake me as a murtherer: she waxing weake at lengthAnd drawing to hir death apace, enforced all hir strengthTo utter these few wordes at last: I pray thee humbly byOur bond of wedlocke, by the Gods as well above the Skie As those to whome I now must passe, as ever I have oughtDeserved well by thee, and by the Love which having broughtMe to my death doth even in death unfaded still remaine,To nestle in thy bed and mine let never Aire obtaine.This sed, she held hir peace, and I perceyved by the sameAnd tolde hir also how she was beguiled in the name.But what avayled telling then? she quoathde: and with hir bloudHir little strength did fade. Howbeit as long as that she coudSee ought, she stared in my face and gasping still on meEven in my mouth she breathed forth hir wretched ghost. But sheDid seeme with better cheare to die for that hir conscience wasDischarged quight and cleare of doubtes. Now in conclusion asDuke Cephal weeping told this tale to Phocus and the restWhose eyes were also moyst with teares to heare the pitious gest,Behold King Aeacus and with him his eldest sonnes both twaineDid enter in and after them there followed in a traineOf well appointed men of warre new levied: which the KingDelivered unto Cephalus to Athens towne to bring.