Page:Metamorphoses (Ovid, 1567).djvu/256

 They kist the wood which yit was warme, and falling downe bylow, Did hug the rootes of that their tree. My suster now could show No part which was not wood except her face. A deawe of teares Did stand uppon the wretched leaves late formed of her heares. And whyle she might, and whyle her mouth did give her way to speake, With such complaynt as this, her mynd shee last or all did breake: If credit may bee given to such as are in wretchednesse, I sweare by God I never yit deserved this distresse. I suffer peyne without desert. My lyfe hath guiltlesse beene. And if I lye, I would theis boughes of mine which now are greene, Myght withered bee, and I heawen downe and burned in the fyre. This infant from his mothers wombe remove you I desyre: And put him forth to nurce, and cause him underneath my tree Oft tymes to sucke, and oftentymes to play. And when that hee Is able for to speake I pray you let him greete mee heere, And sadly say: in this same trunk is hid my mother deere. But lerne him for to shun all ponds and pulling flowres from trees, And let him in his heart beleeve that all the shrubs he sees, Are bodyes of the Goddesses. Adew deere husband now, Adew deere father, and adew deere suster. And in yow If any love of mee remayne, defend my boughes I pray From wound of cutting hooke and ax, and bite of beast for ay. And for I cannot stoope to you, rayse you yourselves to mee, And come and kisse mee whyle I may yit toucht and kissed bee. And lift mee up my little boy. I can no lenger talke,      ^ For now about my lillye necke as if it were a stalke The tender rynd beginnes to creepe, and overgrowes my top. Remove your fingars from my face. The spreading barke dooth stop My dying eyes without your help. Shee had no sooner left Her talking, but her lyfe therewith togither was bereft. But yit a goodwhyle after that her native shape did fade, Her newmade boughes continewed warme. Now whyle that Iole made Report of this same woondrous tale, and whyle Alcmena (who Did weepe) was drying up the teares of Iole weeping too, By putting to her thomb: there hapt a sodeine thing so straunge, That unto mirth from heavinesse theyr harts it streight did chaunge. For at the doore in manner even a very boy as then