Page:Metamorphoses (Ovid, 1567).djvu/130

 The time shall one day, Atlas, come in which thy golden tree Shall of hir fayre and precious fruite dispoyld and robbed bee. And he shall be the sonne of Jove that shall enjoy the pray. For feare hereof he did enclose his Orchard everie way With mightie hilles, and put an ougly Dragon in the same To keepe it. Further he forbad that any straunger came Within his Realme, and to this knight he sayde presumtuouslie: Avoyd my land, onlesse thou wilt by utter perill trie That all thy glorious actes whereof thou doest so loudly lie And Jove thy father be too farre to helpe thee at thy neede. To these his wordes he added force, and went about in deede To drive him out by strength of hand. To speake was losse of winde For neyther could intreating faire nor stoutnesse tourne his minde. Well then (quoth Persey) sith thou doest mine honour set so light, Take here a present: and with that he turnes away his sight, And from his left side drewe mee out Medusas lothly head. As huge and big as Atlas was he tourned in that stead Into a mountaine: into trees his beard and locks did passe: His hands and shoulders made the ridge: that part which lately was His head, became the highest top of all the hill: his bones Were turnd to stones: and therewithall he grew mee all at once Beyond all measure up in heighth (for so God thought it best) So farre that Heaven with all the starres did on his shoulders rest. In endlesse prison by that time had Aeolus lockt the wind And now the cheerely morning starre that putteth folke in mind To rise about their daylie worke shone brightly in the skie. Then Persey unto both his feete did streight his feathers tie And girt his Woodknife to his side, and from the earth did stie. And leaving nations nomberlesse beneath him everie way At last upon King Cepheyes fields in Aethiop did he stay. Where cleane against all right and law by Joves commaundement Andromad for hir mothers tongue did suffer punishment. Whome to a rocke by both the armes when fastned hee had seene, He would have thought of Marble stone shee had some image beene, But that hir tresses to and fro the whisking winde did blowe, And trickling teares warme from hir eyes adowne hir cheeks did flow, Unwares hereat gan secret sparkes within his breast to glow.