Page:Metamorphoses (Ovid, 1567).djvu/247

 As serves for latter course at meales of every sort and sute. As soone as daylight came ageine, and that the Sunny rayes Did shyne upon the tops of things, the Princes went their wayes. They would not tarry till the floud were altogither falne And that the River in his banks ran low ageine and calme. Then Acheloy amid his waves his Crabtree face did hyde And head disarmed of a home. And though he did abyde In all parts else bothe sauf and sound, yit this deformitye Did cut his comb: and for to hyde this blemish from the eye He hydes his hurt with Sallow leaves, or else with sedge and reede. But of the selfsame Mayd the love killd thee, feerce Nesse, in deede, When percing swiftly through thy back an arrow made thee bleede. For as Joves issue with his wyfe was onward on his way In going to his countryward, enforst he was to stay At swift Euenus bank, bycause the streame was risen sore Above his bounds through rage of rayne that fell but late before. Agein so full of whoorlpooles and of gulles the channell was, That scarce a man could any where fynd place of passage. As Not caring for himself but for his wyfe he there did stand, This Nessus came unto him (who was strong of body and Knew well the foordes), and sayd: Use thou thy strength, O Hercules, In swimming. I will fynd the meanes this Ladie shall with ease Bee set uppon the further bank. So Hercules betooke His wyfe to Nessus. Shee for feare of him and of the brooke Lookte pale. Her husband as he had his quiver by his syde Of arrowes full, and on his backe his heavy Lyons hyde, (For to the further bank he erst his club and bow had cast) Said: Sith I have begonne, this brooke bothe must and shalbee past. He never casteth further doubts, nor seekes the calmest place, But through the roughest of the streame he cuts his way apace. Now as he on the furthersyde was taking up his bow, His heard his wedlocke shreeking out, and did hir calling know: And cryde to Nesse (who went about to deale unfaythfully In running with his charge away): Whoa, whither doost thou fly, Thou Royster thou, uppon vaine hope by swiftnesse to escape My hands? I say give eare thou Nesse for all thy double shape, And meddle not with that thats myne. Though no regard of mee