Page:Metamorphoses (Ovid, 1567).djvu/399

 Did hang the seely fish that bote mistrusting no deceyt. All things were voyd of guylefulnesse: no treason was in trust: But all was freendshippe, love and peace. But after that the lust Of one (what God so ere he was) disdeyning former fare, To cram that cruell croppe of his with fleshmeate did not spare, He made a way for wickednesse. And first of all the knyfe Was staynd with blood of savage beastes in ridding them of lyfe. And that had nothing beene amisse, if there had beene the stay. For why wee graunt, without the breach of godlynesse wee may By death confound the things that seeke to take our lyves away. But as to kill them reason was: even so agein theyr was No reason why to eate theyr flesh. This leawdnesse thence did passe On further still. Wheras there was no sacrifyse beforne, The Swyne (bycause with hoked groyne he rooted up the come, And did deceyve the tillmen of theyr hope next yeere thereby) Was deemed woorthy by desert in sacrifyse to dye. The Goate for byghting vynes was slayne at Bacchus altar whoo Wreakes such misdeedes. Theyr owne offence was hurtful to theis two. But what have you poore sheepe misdoone, a cattell meeke and meeld, Created for to maynteine man, whoose fulsomme duggs doo yeeld Sweete Nectar, whoo dooth clothe us with your wooll in soft aray? Whoose lyfe dooth more us benefite than dooth your death farreway? What trespasse have the Oxen doone, a beast without all guyle Or craft, unhurtfull, simple, borne to labour every whyle? In fayth he is unmyndfull and unwoorthy of increace Of come, that in his hart can fynd his tilman to releace From plowgh, to cut his throte: that in his hart can fynde (I say) Those neckes with hatchets off to strike, whoose skinne is worne away With labring ay for him: whoo turnd so oft his land most tough, Whoo brought so many harvestes home. Yit is it not ynough That such a great outrageousenesse committed is. They father Theyr wickednesse uppon the Goddes. And falsly they doo gather That in the death of peynfull Ox the Hyghest dooth delyght. A sacrifyse unblemished and fayrest unto syght, (For beawtye woorketh them theyr bane) adornd with garlonds, and With glittring gold, is cyted at the altar for to stand. There heeres he woordes (he wotes not what) the which the preest dooth pray,