Page:Metamorphoses (Ovid, 1567).djvu/66

 Nor yet to curle hir frisled haire with bodkin or with pinne. A garment with a buckled belt fast girded did she weare And in a white and slender Call slight trussed was hir heare. Sometimes a dart sometime a bow she used for to beare. She was a knight of Phebes troope. There came not at the mount Of Menalus of whome Diana made so great account. But favor never lasteth long. The Sunne had gone that day A good way past the poynt of Noone: when werie of hir way She drue to shadowe in a wood that never had bene cut. Here off hir shoulder by and by hir quiver did she put, And hung hir bow unbent aside, and coucht hir on the ground, Hir quiver underneth hir head. Whom when that Jove had found Alone and wearie: Sure (he said) my wife shall never know Of this escape, and if she do, I know the worst I trow. She can but chide, shall feare of chiding make me to forslow? He counterfeiteth Phebe streight in countnance and aray. And says: O virgine of my troope, where didst thou hunt to day? The Damsell started from the ground and said: Hayle Goddesse deare, Of greater worth than Jove (I thinke) though Jove himselfe did heare. Jove heard hir well and smylde thereat, it made his heart rejoyce To heare the Nymph preferre him thus before himselfe in choyce. He fell to kissing: which was such as out of square might seeme, And in such sort as that a mayde coulde nothing lesse beseeme. And as she would have told what woods she ranged had for game, He tooke hir fast betweene his armes, and not without his shame, Bewrayed plainly what he was and wherefore that he came. The wench against him strove as much as any woman could: I would that Juno had it seene. For then I know thou would Not take the deede so heynously: with all hir might she strove. But what poore wench or who alive could vanquish mighty Jove? Jove having sped flue straight to heaven. She hateth in hir hart The guiltlesse fields and wood where Jove had playd that naughty part, Alwaye she goes in such a griefe as that she had welnie Forgot hir quiver with hir shaftes and bow that hanged by. Dictynna, garded with hir traine and proude of killing Deere, In raunging over Menalus, espying, cald hir neere. The Damsell hearing Phebe call did run away amaine,