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Browsing named entities in a specific section of P. Ovidius Naso, Metamorphoses (ed. Arthur Golding). Search the whole document.

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Sunne (Sweden) (search for this): book 2, card 301
father made great mone And would not shew himselfe abrode, but mournd at home alone. And if it be to be beleved, as bruited is by fame A day did passe without the Sunne. The brightnesse of the flame Gave light: and so unto some kinde of use that mischiefe came. But Clymen having spoke, as much as mothers usually Are wonted in ones. There fell she groveling on his grave, and reading there his name, Shed teares thereon, and layd hir breast all bare upon the same. The daughters also of the Sunne no lesse than did their mother, Bewaild in vaine with flouds of teares, the fortune of their brother: And beating piteously their breasts, incessantly did call Thriefooted horse, I trow he shall by tried proufe be able for to tell How that he did not merit death that could not rule them well. The Goddes stoode all about the Sunne thus storming in his rage Beseching him in humble wise his sorrow to asswage. And that he would not on the world continuall darkenesse bring, Jove eke
rom the slivers went Red drops of bloud as from a wound. The daughter that was rent Cride: Spare us mother spare I pray, for in the shape of tree The bodies and the flesh of us your daughters wounded bee. And now farewell. That word once said, the barke grew over all. Now from these trees flow gummy teares that Amber men doe call, Which hardened with the heate of sunne as from the boughs they fal The trickling River doth receyve, and sendes as things of price To decke the daintie Dames of Rome and make them fine and nice. Now present at this monstruous hap was Cygnus, Stenels son, Who being by the mothers side akinne to Phaeton Was in condicion more akinne. He leaving up his charge (For in the land of Ligurie his Kingdome stretched large) Went mourning all along the bankes and pleasant streame of Po Among the trees encreased by the sisters late ago. Annon his voyce became more small and shrill than for a man. Gray fethers muffled in his face: his necke in length began Fa
ed spokes of broken wheeles: and so at every pace The pieces of the Chariot torne lay strowed here and there. But Phaeton (fire yet blasing stil among his yellow haire) Shot headlong downe, and glid along the Region of the Ayre Like to a starre in Winter nights (the wether cleare and fayre) Which though it doe not fall in deede, yet falleth to our sight, Whome almost in another world and from his countrie quite The River Padus did receyve, and quencht his burning head. The water Nymphes of Italie did take his carkasse dead And buried it yet smoking still, with Joves threeforked flame, And wrate this Epitaph in the stone that lay upon the same: Here lies the lusty Phaeton which tooke in hand to guide His fathers Chariot, from the which although he chaunst to slide: Yet that he gave a proud attempt it cannot be denide. Wyth ruthfull cheere and heavie heart his father made great mone And would not shew himselfe abrode, but mournd at home alone. And if it be to be beleved, a