No More Learning

? The Fifteen Books of Ovid's Metamorphoses, 1567
The first translation into English - credited to Arthur Golding
ORIGINAL SPELLING
Transcribed and Edited by B. F. copyright (C) 2002 Web design and additional editing by R. Brazil Words discussed in the glossary are underlined
THE FYFT BOOKE of Ovids Metamorphosis.
Now while that Danaes noble sonne was telling of these things Amid a throng of Cepheys Lordes, through al the Pallace rings
A noyse of people nothing like the sound of such as sing
At wedding feastes, but like the rore of such as tidings bring
Of cruell warre. This sodaine chaunge from feasting unto fray Might well be likened to the Sea, whych standing at a stay
The woodnesse of the windes makes rough by raising of the wave. King Cephys brother Phyney was the man that rashly gave
The first occasion of this fray. Who shaking in hys hand
A Dart of Ash with head of steele, sayd: Loe: loe here I stand . . . [V. 10] To chalenge thee that wrongfully my ravisht spouse doste holde.
Thy wings nor yet thy forged Dad in shape of feyned golde
Shall now not save thee from my handes. As with that word he bent His arme aloft, the foresaid Dart at Persey to have sent,
? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? What doste thou brother (Cephey cride) what madnesse moves thy minde To doe so foule a deede? is this the friendship he shall finde
Among us for his good deserts? And wilt thou needes requite
The saving of thy Neeces life with such a foule despight?
Whome Persey hath not from thee tane: but (if thou be advisde)
But Neptunes heavie wrath bicause his Sea nymphes were despisde: . . . [V . 20]
But horned Hammon; but the beast which from the Sea arrived
On my deare bowels for to feede. That time wert thou deprived
Of thy betroothed, when hir life upon the losing stoode:
Onlesse perchaunce to see hir lost it woulde have done thee good, And easde thy heart to see me sad. And may it not suffice
That thou didst see hir to the rocke fast bound before thine eyes
And didst not helpe hir beyng both hir husband and hir Eame? Onlesse thou grudge that any man should come within my Realme
To save hir life, and seeke to rob him of his just rewarde?
Which if thou thinke to be so great, thou shouldst have had regarde . . . [V . 30]
Before, to fetch it from the rocke to which thou sawste it bound.
I pray thee, brother, seeing that by him the meanes is found
That in mine age without my childe I go not to the grounde,
Permit him to enjoy the price for which we did compounde,
And which he hath by due desert of purchace deerely bought.
For brother, let it never sinke nor enter in thy thought
That I set more by him than thee: but this may well be sed
I rather had to give hir him than see my daughter dead.
He gave him not a worde againe: but looked eft on him,
And eft on Persey irefully with countnance stoure and grim, . . . [V. 40] Not knowing which were best to hit: and after little stay
He shooke his Dart, and flung it forth with all the powre and sway That Anger gave at Perseys head. But harme it did him none,
It sticked in the Bedsteddes head that Persey sate upon.
Then Persey sternely starting up and pulling out the Dart
Did throw it at his foe agayne, and therewithall his hart
? ? ? Had cliven asunder, had he not behinde an Altar start.
The Altar (the more the pitie was) did save the wicked wight.
Yet threw he not the Dart in vaine: it hit one Rhetus right
Amid the forehead: who therewith sanke downe, and when the steele . . . [V . 50]
Was plucked out, he sprawlde about and spurned with his heele,
And all berayd the boorde with bloud. Then all the other rout
As fierce as fire flang Dartes: and some there were that cried out
That Cephey with his sonne in lawe was worthy for to die.
But he had wound him out of doores protesting solemly
As he was just and faithful Prince, and swearing eke by all
The Gods of Hospitalitie, that that same broyle did fall
Full sore against his will. At hand was warlie Pallas streight
And shadowed Persey with hir shielde, and gave him heart in feight. There was one Atys borne in Inde, (of faire Lymniace . . . [V. 60]
The River Ganges daughter thought the issue for to be),
Of passing beautie which with rich aray he did augment.
He ware that day a scarlet Cloke, about the which there went
A garde of golde: a cheyne of golde he ware about his necke:
And eke his haire perfumde with Myrrhe a costly crowne did decke. Full sixtene yeares he was of age: such cunning skill he coulde
In darting, as to hit his marke farre distant when he would.
Yet how to handle Bow and shaftes much better did he know,
Now as he was about that time to bende his horned Bowe,
A firebrand Persey raught that did upon the Aultar smoke, . . . [V. 70] And dasht him overtwhart the face with such a violent stroke,
That all bebattred was his head, the bones asunder broke.
When Lycabas of Assur lande, his moste assured friend
And deare companion, being no dissembler of his miend,
Which most entierly did him love, behelde him on the ground
Lie weltring with disfigurde face, and through that grievous wound Now gasping out his parting ghost, his death he did lament,
And taking hastly up the Bow that Atys erst had bent:
Encounter thou with me (he saide) thou shalt not long enjoy
? ? ? ? ? ? ? Thy triumphing in braverie thus, for killing of this boy, . . . [V. 80]
By which thou getst more spight than praise. All this was scarsly sed, But that the arrow from the string went streyned to the head.
Howbeit Persey (as it hapt) so warely did it shunne,
As that it in his coteplights hung. Then to him did he runne
With Harpe in his hand bestaind with grim Medusas blood,
And thrust him through the brest therwith. He quothing as he stood
Did looke about where Atys lay with dim and dazeling eyes,
Now waving under endlesse night: and downe by him he lies,
And for to comfort him withall togither with him dies.
Behold through gredie haste to feight one Phorbas, Methions son, . . .
[V . 90]
A Swevite: and of Lybie lande one callde Amphimedon
By fortune sliding in the blood with which the ground was wet,
Fell downe: and as they woulde have rose, Perseus fauchon met
With both of them. Amphimedon upon the ribbes he smote,
And with the like celeritie he cut me Phorbas Throte.
But unto Erith, Actors sonne, that in his hand did holde
A brode browne Bill, with his short sword he durst not be too bolde
To make approch. With both his handes a great and massie cup
Embost with cunning portrayture aloft he taketh up,
And sendes it at him. He spewes up red bloud: and falling downe . . .
V . 100]
Upon his backe, against the ground doth knocke his dying crowne. Then downe he Polydemon throwes, extract of royall race,
And Abaris the Scithian, and Clytus in like case,
And Elice with his unshorne lockes, and also Phlegias,
And Lycet, olde Sperchesies sonne, with divers other mo,
That on the heapes of corses slaine he treades as he doth go.
And Phyney daring not presume to meet his foe at hand,
Did cast a Dart, which hapt to light on Idas who did stand
Aloofe as neuter (though in vaine) not medling with the Fray.
Who casting backe a frowning looke at Phyney, thus did say: . . . [V. 110] Sith whether that I will or no compeld I am perforce
? ? ? ? To take a part, have Phyney here him whome thou doste enforce To be thy foe, and with this wound my wrongfull wound requite. But as he from his body pullde the Dart, with all his might
To throw it at his foe againe, his limmes so feebled were
With losse of bloud, that downe he fell and could not after steare. There also lay Odites slaine the chiefe in all the land
Next to King Cephey, put to death by force of Clymens hand. Protenor was by Hypsey killde, and Lyncide did as much
For Hypsey. In the throng there was an auncient man and such . . . [V. 120] A one as loved righteousnesse and greatly feared God:
Emathion called was his name: whome sith his yeares forbad
To put on armes, he feights with tongue, inveying earnestly
Against that wicked war the which he banned bitterly.
As on the Altar he himselfe with quivering handes did stay,
One Cromis tiped off his head: his head cut off streight way
Upon the Altar fell, and there his tongue not fully dead
Did bable still the banning wordes the which it erst had sed,
And breathed forth his fainting ghost among the burning brandes.
Then Brote and Hammon brothers, twins, stout champions of their hands . . . [V. 130]
In wrestling Pierlesse (if so be that wrestling could sustaine
The furious force of slicing swordes) were both by Phyney slaine.
And so was Alphit, Ceres Priest, that ware upon his crowne
A stately Miter faire and white with Tables hanging downe.
Thou also Japets sonne for such affaires as these unmeete
But meete to tune thine instrument with voyce and Ditie sweete,
The worke of peace, wert thither callde th' assemblie to rejoyce
And for to set the marriage forth with pleasant singing voyce.
As with his Violl in his hand he stoode a good way off,
There commeth to him Petalus and sayes in way of scoffe: . . . [V. 140] Go sing the resdue to the ghostes about the Stygian Lake,
And in the left side of his heade his dagger poynt he strake.
He sanke downe deade with fingers still yet warbling on the string
And so mischaunce knit up with wo the song that he did sing.
? ? ? But fierce Lycormas could not beare to see him murdred so Without revengement. Up he caught a mightie Leaver tho That wonted was to barre the doore a right side of the house And therewithall to Petalus he lendeth such a souse
Full in the noddle of the necke, that like a snetched Oxe
Streight tumbling downe, against the ground his groveling face he knox. . . . [V . 150]
And Pelates, a Garamant, attempted to have caught
The left doore barre: but as thereat with stretched hand he raught,
One Coryt, sonne of Marmarus did with a javelin stricke
Him through the hand, that to the wood fast nayled did it sticke.
As Pelates stoode fastned thus, one Abas goard his side:
He could not fall, but hanging still upon the poste there dide
Fast nayled by the hand. And there was overthrowne a knight
Of Perseyes band callde Melaney, and one that Dorill hight,
A man of greatest landes in all the Realme of Nasamone.
That occupide so large a grounde as Dorill was there none, . . . [V. 160]
Nor none that had such store of corne. There came a Dart askew
And lighted in his Coddes, the place where present death doth sew.
When Alcion of Barcey, he that gave this deadly wound,
Beheld him yesking forth his ghost and falling to the ground
With watrie eyes the white turnde up: Content thy selfe, he said,
With that same litle plot of grounde whereon thy corse is layde,
In steade of all the large fat fieldes which late thou didst possesse.
And with that word he left him dead. Perseus to redresse
This slaughter and this spightfull taunt, streight snatched out the Dart
That sticked in the fresh warme wound, and with an angrie hart . . . [V. 170] Did send it at the throwers head: the Dart did split his nose
Even in the middes, and at his necke againe the head out goes:
So that it peered both the wayes. Whiles fortune doth support
And further Persey thus, he killes (but yet in sundrie sort)
Two brothers by the mother: t'one callde Clytie, tother Dane.
For on a Dart through both his thighes did Clytie take his bane:
And Danus with another Dart was striken in the mouth.
? ? ? ? There died also Celadon, A gypsie of the South:
And so did bastart Astrey too, whose mother was a Jew:
And sage Ethion well foreseene in things that should ensew, . . . [V. 180] But utterly beguilde as then by Birdes that aukly flew,
King Cepheyes harnessebearer callde Thoactes lost his life,
And Agyrt whom for murdring late his father with a knife
The worlde spake shame of. Nathelesse much more remainde behinde Than was dispatched out of hand: for all were full in minde
To murder one. The wicked throng had sworne to spend their blood Against the right, and such a man as had deserved good.
A tother side (although in vaine) of mere affection stood
The Father and the Motherinlaw, and eke the heavie bride,
Who filled with their piteous playnt the Court on everie side. . . . [V. 190] But now the clattring of the swordes and harnesse at that tide
With grievous grones and sighes of such as wounded were or dide,
Did raise up such a cruell rore that nothing could be heard.
For fierce Bellona so renewde the battell afterward,
That all the house did swim in blood. Duke Phyney with a rout
Of moe than of a thousand men environd round about
The valiant Persey all alone. The Dartes of Phyneys bande
Came thicker than the Winters hayle doth fall upon the lande,
By both his sides, his eyes and eares. He warely thereupon
Withdrawes, and leanes his backe against a huge great arche of stone; . . . [V . 200]
And being safe behind, he settes his face against his foe
Withstanding all their fierce assaultes.
60]
The River Ganges daughter thought the issue for to be),
Of passing beautie which with rich aray he did augment.
He ware that day a scarlet Cloke, about the which there went
A garde of golde: a cheyne of golde he ware about his necke:
And eke his haire perfumde with Myrrhe a costly crowne did decke. Full sixtene yeares he was of age: such cunning skill he coulde
In darting, as to hit his marke farre distant when he would.
Yet how to handle Bow and shaftes much better did he know,
Now as he was about that time to bende his horned Bowe,
A firebrand Persey raught that did upon the Aultar smoke, . . . [V. 70] And dasht him overtwhart the face with such a violent stroke,
That all bebattred was his head, the bones asunder broke.
When Lycabas of Assur lande, his moste assured friend
And deare companion, being no dissembler of his miend,
Which most entierly did him love, behelde him on the ground
Lie weltring with disfigurde face, and through that grievous wound Now gasping out his parting ghost, his death he did lament,
And taking hastly up the Bow that Atys erst had bent:
Encounter thou with me (he saide) thou shalt not long enjoy
? ? ? ? ? ? ? Thy triumphing in braverie thus, for killing of this boy, . . . [V. 80]
By which thou getst more spight than praise. All this was scarsly sed, But that the arrow from the string went streyned to the head.
Howbeit Persey (as it hapt) so warely did it shunne,
As that it in his coteplights hung. Then to him did he runne
With Harpe in his hand bestaind with grim Medusas blood,
And thrust him through the brest therwith. He quothing as he stood
Did looke about where Atys lay with dim and dazeling eyes,
Now waving under endlesse night: and downe by him he lies,
And for to comfort him withall togither with him dies.
Behold through gredie haste to feight one Phorbas, Methions son, . . .
[V . 90]
A Swevite: and of Lybie lande one callde Amphimedon
By fortune sliding in the blood with which the ground was wet,
Fell downe: and as they woulde have rose, Perseus fauchon met
With both of them. Amphimedon upon the ribbes he smote,
And with the like celeritie he cut me Phorbas Throte.
But unto Erith, Actors sonne, that in his hand did holde
A brode browne Bill, with his short sword he durst not be too bolde
To make approch. With both his handes a great and massie cup
Embost with cunning portrayture aloft he taketh up,
And sendes it at him. He spewes up red bloud: and falling downe . . .
V . 100]
Upon his backe, against the ground doth knocke his dying crowne. Then downe he Polydemon throwes, extract of royall race,
And Abaris the Scithian, and Clytus in like case,
And Elice with his unshorne lockes, and also Phlegias,
And Lycet, olde Sperchesies sonne, with divers other mo,
That on the heapes of corses slaine he treades as he doth go.
And Phyney daring not presume to meet his foe at hand,
Did cast a Dart, which hapt to light on Idas who did stand
Aloofe as neuter (though in vaine) not medling with the Fray.
Who casting backe a frowning looke at Phyney, thus did say: . . . [V. 110] Sith whether that I will or no compeld I am perforce
? ? ? ? To take a part, have Phyney here him whome thou doste enforce To be thy foe, and with this wound my wrongfull wound requite. But as he from his body pullde the Dart, with all his might
To throw it at his foe againe, his limmes so feebled were
With losse of bloud, that downe he fell and could not after steare. There also lay Odites slaine the chiefe in all the land
Next to King Cephey, put to death by force of Clymens hand. Protenor was by Hypsey killde, and Lyncide did as much
For Hypsey. In the throng there was an auncient man and such . . . [V. 120] A one as loved righteousnesse and greatly feared God:
Emathion called was his name: whome sith his yeares forbad
To put on armes, he feights with tongue, inveying earnestly
Against that wicked war the which he banned bitterly.
As on the Altar he himselfe with quivering handes did stay,
One Cromis tiped off his head: his head cut off streight way
Upon the Altar fell, and there his tongue not fully dead
Did bable still the banning wordes the which it erst had sed,
And breathed forth his fainting ghost among the burning brandes.
Then Brote and Hammon brothers, twins, stout champions of their hands . . . [V. 130]
In wrestling Pierlesse (if so be that wrestling could sustaine
The furious force of slicing swordes) were both by Phyney slaine.
And so was Alphit, Ceres Priest, that ware upon his crowne
A stately Miter faire and white with Tables hanging downe.
Thou also Japets sonne for such affaires as these unmeete
But meete to tune thine instrument with voyce and Ditie sweete,
The worke of peace, wert thither callde th' assemblie to rejoyce
And for to set the marriage forth with pleasant singing voyce.
As with his Violl in his hand he stoode a good way off,
There commeth to him Petalus and sayes in way of scoffe: . . . [V. 140] Go sing the resdue to the ghostes about the Stygian Lake,
And in the left side of his heade his dagger poynt he strake.
He sanke downe deade with fingers still yet warbling on the string
And so mischaunce knit up with wo the song that he did sing.
? ? ? But fierce Lycormas could not beare to see him murdred so Without revengement. Up he caught a mightie Leaver tho That wonted was to barre the doore a right side of the house And therewithall to Petalus he lendeth such a souse
Full in the noddle of the necke, that like a snetched Oxe
Streight tumbling downe, against the ground his groveling face he knox. . . . [V . 150]
And Pelates, a Garamant, attempted to have caught
The left doore barre: but as thereat with stretched hand he raught,
One Coryt, sonne of Marmarus did with a javelin stricke
Him through the hand, that to the wood fast nayled did it sticke.
As Pelates stoode fastned thus, one Abas goard his side:
He could not fall, but hanging still upon the poste there dide
Fast nayled by the hand. And there was overthrowne a knight
Of Perseyes band callde Melaney, and one that Dorill hight,
A man of greatest landes in all the Realme of Nasamone.
That occupide so large a grounde as Dorill was there none, . . . [V. 160]
Nor none that had such store of corne. There came a Dart askew
And lighted in his Coddes, the place where present death doth sew.
When Alcion of Barcey, he that gave this deadly wound,
Beheld him yesking forth his ghost and falling to the ground
With watrie eyes the white turnde up: Content thy selfe, he said,
With that same litle plot of grounde whereon thy corse is layde,
In steade of all the large fat fieldes which late thou didst possesse.
And with that word he left him dead. Perseus to redresse
This slaughter and this spightfull taunt, streight snatched out the Dart
That sticked in the fresh warme wound, and with an angrie hart . . . [V. 170] Did send it at the throwers head: the Dart did split his nose
Even in the middes, and at his necke againe the head out goes:
So that it peered both the wayes. Whiles fortune doth support
And further Persey thus, he killes (but yet in sundrie sort)
Two brothers by the mother: t'one callde Clytie, tother Dane.
For on a Dart through both his thighes did Clytie take his bane:
And Danus with another Dart was striken in the mouth.
? ? ? ? There died also Celadon, A gypsie of the South:
And so did bastart Astrey too, whose mother was a Jew:
And sage Ethion well foreseene in things that should ensew, . . . [V. 180] But utterly beguilde as then by Birdes that aukly flew,
King Cepheyes harnessebearer callde Thoactes lost his life,
And Agyrt whom for murdring late his father with a knife
The worlde spake shame of. Nathelesse much more remainde behinde Than was dispatched out of hand: for all were full in minde
To murder one. The wicked throng had sworne to spend their blood Against the right, and such a man as had deserved good.
A tother side (although in vaine) of mere affection stood
The Father and the Motherinlaw, and eke the heavie bride,
Who filled with their piteous playnt the Court on everie side. . . . [V. 190] But now the clattring of the swordes and harnesse at that tide
With grievous grones and sighes of such as wounded were or dide,
Did raise up such a cruell rore that nothing could be heard.
For fierce Bellona so renewde the battell afterward,
That all the house did swim in blood. Duke Phyney with a rout
Of moe than of a thousand men environd round about
The valiant Persey all alone. The Dartes of Phyneys bande
Came thicker than the Winters hayle doth fall upon the lande,
By both his sides, his eyes and eares. He warely thereupon
Withdrawes, and leanes his backe against a huge great arche of stone; . . . [V . 200]
And being safe behind, he settes his face against his foe
Withstanding all their fierce assaultes. There did assaile him thoe
Upon the left side Molpheus, a Prince of Choanie.
And on the right Ethemon, borne hard by in Arabie.
Like as the Tyger when he heares the lowing out of Neate
In sundrie Medes, enforced sore through abstinence from meate,
Would faine be doing with them both, and can not tell at which
Were best to give adventure first: so Persey who did itch
To be at host with both of them, and doubtfull whether side
To turne him on, the right or left, upon advantage spide . . . [V. 210]
? ? ? Did wound me Molphey on the leg, and from him quight him drave. He was contented with his flight: for why Ethemon gave
No respite to him to pursue: but like a franticke man
Through egernesse to wounde his necke, without regarding whan Or how to strike for haste, he burst his brittle sworde in twain Against the Arche: the poynt whereof rebounding backe againe, Did hit himselfe upon the throte. Howbeit that same wound
Was unsufficient for to sende Ethemon to the ground.
He trembled holding up his handes for mercie, but in vaine,
For Persey thrust him through the heart with Hermes hooked skaine. . . . [V . 220]
But when he saw that valiantnesse no lenger could avayle,
By reason of the multitude that did him still assayle:
Sith you your selves me force to call mine enmie to mine ayde,
I will do so: if any friend of mine be here (he sayd)
Sirs, turne your faces all away: and therewithall he drew
Out Gorgons head. One Thessalus streight raging to him flew,
And sayd: Go seeke some other man whome thou mayst make abasht With these thy foolish juggling toyes. And as he would have dasht
His Javeling in him with that worde to kill him out of hand,
With gesture throwing forth his Dart all Marble did he stand. . . . [V. 230] His sworde through Lyncids noble heart had Amphix thought to shove: His hand was stone, and neyther one nor other way could move:
But Niley who did vaunt himselfe to be the Rivers sonne
That through the boundes of Aegypt land in channels seven doth runne, And in his shielde had graven part of silver, part of golde
The said seven channels of the Nile, sayd: Persey here beholde
From whence we fetch our piedegree: it may rejoyce thy hart
To die of such a noble hand as mine. The latter part
Of these his words could scarce be heard: the dint thereof was drownde: Ye would have thought him speaking still with open mouth: but sound . . . V . 240]
Did none forth passe: there was for speache no passage to be found. Rebuking them cries Eryx: Sirs, it is not Gorgons face,
? ? It is your owne faint heartes that make you stonie in this case.
Come let us on this fellow run and to the ground him beare
That feightes by witchcraft: as with that his feete forth stepping were, They stacke still fastened to the floore: he could not move aside,
An armed image all of stone he speachlesse did abide.
All these were justly punished. But one there was a knight
Of Perseys band, in whose defence as Acont stoode to feight,
He waxed overgrowne with stone at ugly Gorgons sight. . . . [V. 250] Whome still as yet Astyages supposing for to live,
Did with a long sharpe arming sworde a washing blow him give.
The sword did clinke against the stone and out the sparcles drive. While all amazde Astyages stoode wondring at the thing,
The selfsame nature on himselfe the Gorgons head did bring.
And in his visage which was stone a countnance did remaine
Of wondring still. A wearie worke it were to tell you plaine
The names of all the common sort. Two hundred from that fray
Did scape unslaine: but none of them did go alive away.
The whole two hundred every one at sight of Gorgons heare . . . [V. 260] Were turned into stockes of stone. Then at the length for feare
Did Phyney of his wrongfull war forthinke himselfe full sore.
But now (alas) what remedie? he saw there stand before
His face, his men like Images in sundrie shapes all stone.
He knew them well, and by their names did call them everychone: Desiring them to succor him: and trusting not his sight
He feeles the bodies that were next, and all were Marble quight.
He turnes himselfe from Persey ward and humbly as he standes
He wries his armes behind his backe: and holding up his handes,
O noble Persey, thou hast got the upper hand, he sed. . . . [V. 270]
Put up that monstruous shield of thine; put up that Gorgons head
That into stones transformeth men: put up, I thee desire.
Not hatred, nor bicause to reigne as King I did aspire,
Have moved me to make this fray. The only force of love
In seeking my betrothed spouse, did hereunto me move.
The better title seemeth thine bicause of thy desert:
? ? And mine by former promise made. It irkes me at the heart
In that I did not give the place. None other thing I crave
O worthie knight, but that thou graunt this life of mine to save.
Let all things else beside be thine. As he thus humbly spake . . . [V. 280] Nor daring looke at him to whome he did entreatance make,
The thing (quoth Persey) which to graunt both I can finde in heart,
And is no little courtesie to shewe without desert
Upon a Coward, I will graunt, O fearfull Duke, to thee.
Set feare aside: thou shalt not hurt with any weapon bee.
I will moreover so provide as that thou shalt remaine
An everlasting monument of this dayes toyle and paine.
The pallace of my Fathrinlaw shall henceforth be thy shrine
Where thou shalt stand continually before my spouses eyen,
That of hir husband having ay the Image in hir sight, . . .