Page:Metamorphoses (Ovid, 1567).djvu/53

 There wayted Sommer naked starke all save a wheaten Hat: And Autumne smerde with treading grapes late at the pressing Fat. And lastly quaking for the colde, stood Winter all forlorne, With rugged heade as white as Dove, and garments all to torne, Forladen with the Isycles that dangled up and downe Uppon his gray and hoarie bearde and snowie frozen crowne. The Sunne thus sitting in the middes did cast his piercing eye, (With which full lightly when he list he all thinges doth espye) Upon his childe that stood aloofe, agast and trembling sore At sight of such unwoonted thinges, and thus bespake him thore. O noble ympe, O Phaëton which art not such (I see) Of whome thy father should have cause ashamed for to bee: Why hast thou traveld to my court? what is thy will with mee? Then answerde he, of all the worlde O onely perfect light, O Father Phœbus, (if I may usurpe that name of right, And that my mother for to save hir selfe from worldely shame, Hyde not hir fault with false pretence and colour of thy name) Some signe apparant graunt whereby I may be knowne thy Sonne, And let mee hang no more in doubt. He had no sooner donne, But that his father putting off the bright and fierie beames That glistred rounde about his heade like cleare and golden streames, Commaunded him to draw him neere, and him embracing sayde: To take mee for thy rightfull Sire thou neede not be afrayde. Thy mother Clymen of a truth from falshood standeth free. And for to put thee out of doubt aske what thou wilt of mee, And I will give thee thy desire, the Lake whereby of olde We Gods do sweare (the which mine eyes did never yet beeholde) Beare witnesse with thee of my graunt: he scarce this tale had tolde, But that the foolish Phaëton straight for a day did crave The guyding of his winged Steedes, and Chariot for to have. Then did his Father by and by forethinke him of his oth. And shaking twentie tymes his heade, as one that was full wroth, Bespake him thus: Thy wordes have made me rashly to consent To that which shortly both of us (I feare mee) shall repent. Oh that I might retract my graunt, my sonne I doe protest I would denie thee nothing else save this thy fond request. I may disswade, there lyes herein more perill than thou weene: