Page:Metamorphoses (Ovid, 1567).djvu/325

Howbeeit as shee on the shore was walking all alone,
The God of sea did ravish her. (So fame dooth make report.)
And Neptune for the great delight he had in Venus sport,
Sayd: Ceny, aske mee what thou wilt, and I will give it thee.
(This also bruited is by fame.) The wrong heere doone to mee
(Quoth Ceny) makes mee wish great things. And therfore to th'entent
I may no more constreyned bee to such a thing, consent
I may no more a woman bee. And if thou graunt thereto,
It is even all that I desyre, or wish thee for to doo.
In bacer tune theis latter woordes were uttred, and her voyce
Did seeme a mannes voyce as it was in deede. For to her choyce
The God of sea had given consent. He graunted him besyde
That free from wounding and from hurt he should from thence abyde,
And that he should not dye of steele. Right glad of this same graunt
Away went Ceny, and the feeldes of Thessaly did haunt,
And in the feates of Chevalrye from that tyme spent his lyfe.
The over bold Ixions sonne had taken to his wyfe
Hippodame. And kevering boordes in bowres of boughes of trees
His Clowdbred brothers one by one he placed in degrees.
There were the Lordes of Thessaly. I also was among
The rest: a cheerefull noyse of feast through all the Pallace roong.
Sum made the altars smoke, and sum the brydale carrolls soong.
Anon commes in the mayden bryde, a goodly wench of face,
With wyves and maydens following her with comly gate and grace.
Wee sayd that sir Pirithous was happy in his wyfe:
Which handsell had deceyved us wellneere through soodeine stryfe.
For of the cruell Centawres thou most cruell Ewryt, tho
Like as thy stomacke was with wyne farre over charged: so
As soone as thou behilldst the bryde, thy hart began to frayne,
And doubled with thy droonkennesse thy raging lust did reigne.
The feast was troubled by and by with tables overthrowen.
The bryde was hayled by the head, so farre was furye growen.
Feerce Ewryt caught Hippodame, and every of the rest
Caught such as commed next to hand, or such as likte him best.
It was the lively image of a Citie tane by foes.
The house did ring of womens shreekes. We all up quickly rose.
And first sayd Theseus thus: What aylst? art mad, O Ewrytus?