Page:Metamorphoses (Ovid, 1567).djvu/207

 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 undonne My deare beloved wife and me. O would to God this same Had never unto me bene given. There was a noble Dame That 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 shee Was sister. If a bodie should compare in ech degree The face and natures of them both, he could none other deeme But 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 him Of 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 gray Then 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 say The troth of hir. Although it would delight one to beholde Hir 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 I But Procris only in my mouth: still Procris did I crie. I upned what a holy thing was wedlocke: and how late It 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 be That wish thou wilt thou had hir not. And so in anger she To Procris sent me backe againe. In going homeward as Upon the Goddesse sayings with my selfe I musing was,