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The Lady Galat ceast her talk and streyght the companye brake.
And Neryes daughters parting thence, swam in the gentle lake.
Dame Scylla home ageine returnd. (Shee durst not her betake
To open sea) and eyther roamd uppon the sandy shore
Stark naakt, or when for weerinesse shee could not walk no more,
Shee then withdrew her out of syght and gate her to a poole,
And in the water of the same, her heated limbes did coole.
Behold the fortune. Glaucus (whoo then being late before
Transformed in Ewboya Ile uppon Anthedon shore,
Was new becomme a dweller in the sea) as he did swim
Along the coast was tane in love at syght of Scylla trim,
And spake such woordes as he did think myght make her tarry still.
Yit fled shee still, and swift for feare shee gate her to a hill
That butted on the Sea. Ryght steepe and upward sharp did shoote
A loftye toppe with trees, beneathe was hollowe at the foote.
Heere Scylla stayd and being sauf by strongnesse of the place,
(Not knowing if he monster were, or God, that did her chace,)
Shee looked backe. And woondring at his colour and his heare
With which his shoulders and his backe all wholly covered were,
Shee saw his neather parts were like a fish with tayle wrythde round
Who leaning to the neerest Rocke, sayd thus with lowd cleere sound:
Fayre mayd, I neyther monster am nor cruell savage beast:
But of the sea a God, whoose powre and favour is not least.
For neyther Protew in the sea nor Triton have more myght
Nor yit the sonne of Athamas that now Palaemon hyght.
Yit once I was a mortall man. But you must know that I
Was given to seawoorkes, and in them mee only did apply.
For sumtyme I did draw the drag in which the fishes were,
And sumtyme sitting on the cliffes I angled heere and there.
There butteth on a fayre greene mede a bank wherof t'one half
Is cloasd with sea, the rest is clad with herbes which never calf,
Nor horned Ox, nor seely sheepe, nor shakheard Goate did feede.
The busye Bee did never there of flowres sweet smelling speede.
No gladsum garlonds ever there were gathered for the head.
No hand those flowers ever yit with hooked sythe did shred.
I was the first that ever set my foote uppon that plot.
Now as I dryde my dropping netts, and layd abrode my lotte,
To tell how many fishes had bychaunce to net beene sent,
Or through theyr owne too lyght beeleefe on bayted hooke beene hent:
(The matter seemeth like a lye, but what avayles to lye?)
As soone as that my pray had towcht the grasse, it by and by
Began to move, and flask theyr finnes, and swim uppon the drye,
As in the Sea. And as I pawsd and woondred at the syght,
My draught of fishes everychone to seaward tooke theyr flyght,
And leaping from the shore, forsooke theyr newfound mayster quyght.
I was amazed at the thing: and standing long in dowt,
I sought the cause if any God had brought this same abowt,
Or else sum jewce of herb. And as I so did musing stand,
What herb (quoth I) hath such a powre? And gathering with my hand
The grasse, I bote it with my toothe. My throte had scarcely yit
Well swallowed downe the uncouth jewce, when like an agew fit
I felt myne inwards soodeinly to shake, and with the same,
A love of other nature in my brest with violence came.
And long I could it not resist, but sayd: Deere land, adeew,
For never shall I haunt thee more. And with that woord I threw
My bodye in the sea. The Goddes thereof receyving mee,
Vouchsaved in theyr order mee installed for to bee,
Desyring old Oceanus and Thetis for theyr sake,
The rest of my mortalitie away from mee to take.
They hallowed mee, and having sayd nyne tymes the holy ryme
That purgeth all prophanednesse, they charged mee that tyme
To put my brestbulk underneathe a hundred streames. Anon
The brookes from sundry coastes and all the Seas did ryde uppon
My head. From whence as soone as I returned, by and by
I felt my self farre otherwyse through all my limbes, than I
Had beene before. And in my mynd I was another man.
Thus farre of all that mee befell make just report I can.
Thus farre I beare in mynd. The rest my mynd perceyved not.
Then first of all this hory greene gray grisild beard I got,
And this same bush of heare which all along the seas I sweepe,
And theis same myghty shoulders, and theis grayish armes, and feete
Confounded into finned fish. But what avayleth mee
This goodly shape, and of the Goddes of sea to loved bee?
Or for to be a God my self, if they delyght not thee?
As he was speaking this, and still about to utter more,
Dame Scylla him forsooke: wherat he wexing angry sore,
And beeing quickened with repulse, in rage he tooke his way
To Circes, Titans daughters, Court which full of monsters lay.

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    • Charles Simmons, The Metamorphoses of Ovid, Books XIII and XIV, 13.963
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