In this meane tyme the Trachine king sore vexed in his thoughtWith signes that both before and since his brothers death were wrought,For counsell at the sacret Spelles (which are but toyes to foodeFond fancyes, and not counsellers in perill to doo goode)Did make him reedy to the God of Claros for to go. For heathenish Phorbas and the folk of Phlegia had as thoThe way to Delphos stopt, that none could travell to or fro.But ere he on his journey went, he made his faythfull makeAlcyone preevye to the thing. Immediatly theyr strakeA chilnesse to her verry bones, and pale was all her face Like box and downe her heavy cheekes the teares did gush apace.Three times about to speake, three times shee washt her face with teares,And stinting oft with sobbes, shee thus complayned in his eares:What fault of myne, husband deere, hath turnd thy hart fro mee?Where is that care of mee that erst was woont to bee in thee? And canst thou having left thy deere Alcyone merrye bee?Doo journeyes long delyght thee now? dooth now myne absence pleaseThee better then my presence dooth? Think I that thou at easeShalt go by land? Shall I have cause but onely for to moorne?And not to bee afrayd? And shall my care of thy returne Bee voyd of feare? No no. The sea mee sore afrayd dooth make.To think uppon the sea dooth cause my flesh for feare to quake.I sawe the broken ribbes of shippes alate uppon the shore.And oft on Tumbes I reade theyr names whose bodyes long beforeThe sea had swallowed. Let not fond vayne hope seduce thy mynd, That Aeolus is thy fathrinlaw who holdes the boystous wyndIn prison, and can calme the seas at pleasure. When the wyndsAre once let looce uppon the sea, no order then them bynds.Then neyther land hathe priviledge, nor sea exemption fynds.Yea even the clowdes of heaven they vex, and with theyr meeting stout Enforce the fyre with hideous noyse to brust in flashes out.The more that I doo know them, (for ryght well I know theyr powre,And saw them oft a little wench within my fathers bowre)So much the more I think them to bee feard. But if thy willBy no intreatance may bee turnd at home to tarry still, But that thou needes wilt go: then mee, deere husband, with thee take.So shall the sea us equally togither tosse and shake.So woorser than I feele I shall bee certeine not to feare.So shall we whatsoever happes togitherjoyntly beare.So shall wee on the broad mayne sea togither joyntly sayle. Theis woordes and teares wherewith the imp of Aeolus did assayleHer husbond borne of heavenly race, did make his hart relent.(For he lovd her no lesse than shee lovd him.) But fully bentHe seemed, neyther for to leave the journey which he mentTo take by sea, nor yit to give Alcyone leave as tho Companion of his perlous course by water for to go.He many woordes of comfort spake her feare away to chace.But nought hee could perswade therein to make her like the cace.This last asswagement of her greef he added in the end,Which was the onely thing that made her loving hart to bend: All taryance will assuredly seeme over long to mee.And by my fathers blasing beames I make my vow to theeThat at the furthest ere the tyme (if God therto agree)The moone doo fill her circle twyce, ageine I will heere bee.When in sum hope of his returne this promis had her set, He willd a shippe immediatly from harbrough to bee fet,And throughly rigged for to bee, that neyther maast, nor sayle,Nor tackling, no nor other thing should apperteyning fayle.Which when Alcyone did behold, as one whoose hart misgaveThe happes at hand, shee quaakt ageine, and teares out gusshing drave. And streyning Ceyx in her armes with pale and piteous looke,Poore wretched soule, her last farewell at length shee sadly tooke,And swounded flat uppon the ground. Anon the watermen(As Ceyx sought delayes and was in dowt to turne agen)Set hand to Ores, of which there were two rowes on eyther syde, And all at once with equall stroke the swelling sea devyde.Shee lifting up her watrye eyes behilld her husband standUppon the hatches making signes by beckening with his hand:And shee made signes to him ageine. And after that the landWas farre removed from the shippe, and that the sight began To bee unable to discerne the face of any man,As long as ere shee could shee lookt uppon the rowing keele.And when shee could no longer tyme for distance ken it weele,Shee looked still uppon the sayles that flasked with the wyndUppon the maast. And when shee could the sayles no longer fynd, She gate her to her empty bed with sad and sorye hart,And layd her downe. The chamber did renew afresh her smart,And of her bed did bring to mynd the deere departed part.From harbrough now they quyght were gone: and now a plasant galeDid blowe. The mayster made his men theyr Ores asyde to hale, And hoysed up the toppesayle on the hyghest of the maast,And clapt on all his other sayles bycause no wind should waast.Scarce full t'one half, (or sure not much above) the shippe had ronneUppon the sea and every way the land did farre them shonne,When toward night the wallowing waves began to waxen whyght, And eeke the heady easterne wynd did blow with greater myght,Anon the Mayster cryed: Strike the toppesayle, let the mayneSheate flye and fardle it to the yard. Thus spake he, but in vayne,For why so hideous was the storme uppon the soodeine brayd,That not a man was able there to heere what other sayd. And lowd the sea with meeting waves extreemely raging rores.Yit fell they to it of them selves. Sum haalde asyde the Ores:Sum fensed in the Gallyes sydes, sum downe the sayleclothes rend:Sum pump the water out, and sea to sea ageine doo send.Another hales the sayleyards downe. And whyle they did eche thing Disorderly, the storme increast, and from eche quarter flingThe wyndes with deadly foode, and bownce the raging waves togither.The Pilot being sore dismayd sayth playne, he knowes not whitherTo wend himself, nor what to doo or bid, nor in what stateThings stood. So huge the mischeef was, and did so overmate All arte. For why of ratling ropes, of crying men and boyes,Of flusshing waves and thundring ayre, confused was the noyse.The surges mounting up aloft did seeme to mate the skye,And with theyr sprinckling for to wet the clowdes that hang on hye.One whyle the sea, when iirom the brink it raysd the yellow sand, Was like in colour to the same. Another whyle did standA colour on it blacker than the Lake of Styx. AnonIt lyeth playne and loomethwhyght with seething froth thereon.

And with the sea the Trachin shippe ay alteration tooke.One whyle as from a mountaynes toppe it seemed downe to looke To vallyes and the depth of hell. Another whyle besetWith swelling surges round about which neere above it met,It looked from the bottom of the whoorlepoole up aloftAs if it were from hell to heaven. A hideous flusshing oftThe waves did make in beating full against the Gallyes syde. The Gallye being striken gave as great a sownd that tydeAs did sumtyme the Battellramb of steele, or now the GonneIn making battrye to a towre. And as feerce Lyons ronneFull brist with all theyr force ageinst the armed men that standIn order bent to keepe them off with weapons in theyr hand, Even so as often as the waves by force of wynd did rave,So oft uppon the netting of the shippe they maynely drave,And mounted farre above the same. Anon off fell the hoopes:And having washt the pitch away, the sea made open loopesTo let the deadly water in. Behold the clowdes did melt, And showers large came pooring downe. The seamen that them feltMyght thinke that all the heaven had falne uppon them that same tyme,And that the swelling sea likewyse above the heaven would clyme.The sayles were throughly wet with showers, and with the heavenly raineWas mixt the waters of the sea. No lyghts at all remayne Of sunne, or moone, or starres in heaven. The darknesse of the nyghtAugmented with the dreadfull storme, takes dowble powre and myght.Howbee't the flasshing lyghtnings oft doo put the same to flyght,And with theyr glauncing now and then do give a soodeine lyght.The lightnings setts the waves on fyre. Above the netting skippe The waves, and with a violent force doo lyght within the shippe.And as a souldyer stowter than the rest of all his bandThat oft assayles a citie walles defended well by hand,At length atteines his hope, and for to purchace prayse withallAlone among a thousand men getts up uppon the wall: So when the loftye waves had long the Gallyes sydes assayd,At length the tenth wave rysing up with huger force and brayd,Did never cease assaulting of the weery shippe, till thatUppon the hatches lyke a fo victoriously it gat.A part thereof did still as yit assault the shippe without, And part had gotten in. The men all trembling ran about,As in a Citie commes to passe, when of the enmyes sumDig downe the walles without, and sum already in are come.All arte and conning was to seeke. Theyr harts and stomacks fayle:And looke, how many surges came theyr vessell to assayle, So many deathes did seeme to charge and breake uppon them all.One weepes: another stands amazde: the third them blist dooth callWhom buryall dooth remayne. To God another makes his vow,And holding up his handes to heaven the which hee sees not now,Dooth pray in vayne for help. The thought of this man is uppon His brother and his parents whom he cleerely hath forgone.Another calles his house and wyfe and children unto mynd,And every man in generall the things he left behynd.Alcyone moveth Ceyx hart. In Ceyx mouth is noneBut onely one Alcyone. And though shee were alone The wyght that he desyred most, yit was he verry gladShee was not there. To Trachin ward to looke desyre he had,And homeward fayne he would have turnd his eyes which never moreShould see the land. But then he knew not which way was the shore,Nor where he was. The raging sea did rowle about so fast: And all the heaven with clowds as black as pitch was over cast,That never nyght was halfe so dark. There came a flaw at last,That with his violence brake the maste, and strake the sterne away.A billowe proudly pranking up as vaunting of his prayBy conquest gotten, walloweth hole and breaketh not asunder, Beholding with a lofty looke the waters woorking under.And looke, as if a man should from the places where they groweRend downe the mountaynes, Athe and Pind, and whole them overthroweInto the open sea: so soft the Billowe tumbling downe,With weyght and violent stroke did sink and in the bottom drowne The Gallye. And the moste of them that were within the sameWent downe therwith and never up to open aier came,But dyed strangled in the gulf. Another sort againeCaught peeces of the broken shippe. The king himself was fayneA shiver of the sunken shippe in that same hand to hold, In which hee erst a royall mace had hilld of yellow gold.His father and his fathrinlawe he calles uppon (alasIn vayne.) But cheefly in his mouth his wife Alcyone was.In hart was shee: in toong was shee: he wisshed that his corseTo land where shee myght take it up the surges myght enforce: And that by her most loving handes he might be layd in grave.In swimming still (as often as the surges leave him gaveTo ope his lippes) he harped still upon Alcyones name,And when he drowned in the waves he muttred still the same.Behold, even full uppon the wave a flake of water blacke Did breake, and underneathe the sea the head of Ceyx stracke.That nyght the lyghtsum Lucifer for sorrowe was so dim,As scarcely could a man discerne or thinke it to bee him.And forasmuch as out of heaven he might not steppe asyde,With thick and darksum clowds that nyght his countnance he did hyde. Alcyone of so great mischaunce not knowing aught as yit,Did keepe a reckening of the nyghts that in the whyle did flit,And hasted garments both for him and for herself likewyse,To weare at his homecomming which shee vaynely did surmyse.To all the Goddes devoutly shee did offer frankincence: But most above them all the Church of Juno shee did sence.And for her husband (who as then was none) shee kneeld beforeThe Altar, wisshing health and soone arrivall at the shore,And that none other woman myght before her be preferd.Of all her prayers this one peece effectually was heard. For Juno could not fynd in hart intreated for to beeFor him that was already dead. But to th'entent that sheeFrom dame Alcyones deadly hands might keepe her Altars free,Shee sayd: Most faythfull messenger of my commaundments, OThou Raynebowe, to the slugguish house of Slomber swiftly go. And bid him send a Dreame in shape of Ceyx to his wyfeAlcyone, for to shew her playne the losing of his lyfe.Dame Iris takes her pall wherein a thousand colours wereAnd bowwing lyke a stringed bow upon the dowdy sphere,Immediatly descended to the drowzye house of Sleepe Whose Court the clowdes continually doo clocely overdreepe.

Among the darke Cimmerians is a hollow mountaine foundAnd in the hill a Cave that farre dooth ronne within the ground,The Chamber and the dwelling place where slouthfull sleepe dooth cowch.The lyght of Phebus golden beames this place can never towch. A foggye mist with dimnesse mixt streames upwarde from the ground,And glimmering twylyght evermore within the same is found.No watchfull bird with barbed bill, and combed crowne dooth callThe morning foorth with crowing out. There is no noyse at allOf waking dogge, nor gagling goose more waker than the hound To hinder sleepe. Of beast ne wyld ne tame there is no sound.No bowghes are stird with blastes of wynd, no noyse of tatling toongOf man or woman ever yit within that bower roong.Dumb quiet dwelleth there. Yit from the Roches foote dooth goThe ryver of forgetfulnesse, which ronneth trickling so Uppon the little pebble stones which in the channell lye,That unto sleepe a great deale more it dooth provoke thereby.Before the entry of the Cave, there growes of Poppye store,With seeded heades, and other weedes innumerable more,Out of the milkye jewce of which the night dooth gather sleepes,And over all the shadowed earth with dankish deawe them dreepes.Bycause the craking hindges of the doore no noyse should make,There is no doore in all the house, nor porter at the gate.Amid the Cave, of Ebonye a bedsted standeth hye,And on the same a bed of downe with keeverings blacke dooth lye: In which the drowzye God of sleepe his lither limbes dooth rest.About him, forging sundrye shapes as many dreames lye prestAs eares of come doo stand in feeldes in harvest tyme, or leavesDoo grow on trees, or sea to shore of sandye cinder heaves.As soone as Iris came within this house, and with her hand Had put asyde the dazeling dreames that in her way did stand,The brightnesse of her robe through all the sacred house did shine.The God of sleepe scarce able for to rayse his heavy eyen,A three or fowre tymes at the least did fall ageine to rest,And with his nodding head did knocke his chinne ageinst his brest. At length he shaking of himselfe, uppon his elbowe leande.And though he knew for what shee came: he askt her what shee meand.O sleepe (quoth shee,) the rest of things, O gentlest of the Goddes,Sweete sleepe, the peace of mynd, with whom crookt care is aye at oddes:Which cherrishest mennes weery limbes appalld with toling sore, And makest them as fresh to woork and lustye as beefore,Commaund a dreame that in theyr kyndes can every thing expresse,To Trachine, Hercles towne, himself this instant to addresse.And let him lively counterfet to Queene AlcyoneaThe image of her husband who is drowned in the sea By shipwrecke. Juno willeth so. Her message beeing told,Dame Iris went her way. Shee could her eyes no longer holdFrom sleepe. But when shee felt it come shee fled that instant tyme,And by the boawe that brought her downe to heaven ageine did clyme.Among a thousand sonnes and mo that father slomber had He calld up Morph, the feyner of mannes shape, a craftye lad.None other could so conningly expresse mans verrye face,His gesture and his sound of voyce, and manner of his pace,Togither with his woonted weede, and woonted phrase of talk.But this same Morphye onely in the shape of man dooth walk. There is another who the shapes of beast or bird dooth take,Or else appeereth unto men in likenesse of a snake.The Goddes doo call him Icilos, and mortall folke him namePhobetor. There is also yit a third who from theis sameWoorkes diversly, and Phantasos he highteth. Into streames This turnes himself, and into stones, and earth, and timber beames,And into every other thing that wanteth life. Theis three,Great kings and Capteines in the night are woonted for to see.The meaner and inferiour sort of others haunted bee.Sir Slomber overpast the rest, and of the brothers all To doo dame Iris message he did only Morphye call.Which doone he waxing luskish, streyght layd downe his drowzy headAnd softly shroonk his layzye limbes within his sluggish bed.Away flew Morphye through the aire: no flickring made his wings:And came anon to Trachine. There his fethers off he flings, And in the shape of Ceyx standes before Alcyones bed,Pale, wan, stark naakt, and like a man that was but lately deade.His berde seemd wet, and of his head the heare was dropping drye,And leaning on her bed, with teares he seemed thus to cry:Most wretched woman, knowest thou thy loving Ceyx now Or is my face by death disformd? behold mee well, and thowShalt know mee. For thy husband, thou thy husbandes Ghost shalt see.No good thy prayers and thy vowes have done at all to mee.For I am dead. In vayne of my returne no reckning make.The dowdy sowth amid the sea our shippe did tardy take, And tossing it with violent blastes asunder did it shake.And floodes have filld my mouth which calld in vayne uppon thy name.No persone whom thou mayst misdeeme brings tydings of the same.Thou hearest not thereof by false report of flying fame.But I myself: I presently my shipwrecke to thee showe. Aryse therefore and wofull teares uppon thy spouse bestowe.Put moorning rayment on, and let mee not to Limbo goUnmoorned for. In shewing of this shipwrecke Morphye soDid feyne the voyce of Ceyx, that shee could none other deeme,But that it should bee his in deede. Moreover he did seeme To weepe in earnest: and his handes the verry gesture hadOf Ceyx. Queene Alcyone did grone, and beeing sadDid stirre her armes, and thrust them foorth his body to embrace.In stead whereof shee caught but ayre. The teares ran downe her face.Shee cryed, Tarry: whither flyste? togither let us go. And all this whyle she was asleepe. Both with her crying so,And flayghted with the image of her husbands gastly spryght,She started up: and sought about if fynd him there shee myght.(For why her Groomes awaking with the shreeke had brought a light.)And when shee no where could him fynd, shee gan her face to smyght, And tare her nyghtclothes from her brest, and strake it feercely, andNot passing to unty her heare shee rent it with her hand.And when her nurce of this her greef desyrde to understandThe cause: Alcyone is undoone, undoone and cast awayWith Ceyx her deare spouse (shee sayd). Leave comforting I pray. By shipwrecke he is perrisht: I have seene him: and I knewHis handes. When in departing I to hold him did pursewI caught a Ghost: but such a Ghost as well discerne I myghtTo bee my husbands. Nathelesse he had not to my syghtHis woonted countenance, neyther did his visage shyne so bryght, As heeretofore it had beene woont. I saw him, wretched wyght,Starke naked, pale, and with his heare still wet: even verry heereI saw him stand. With that shee lookes if any print appeereOf footing where as he did stand uppon the floore behynd.This this is it that I did feare in farre forecasting mynd, When flying mee I thee desyrde thou shouldst not trust the wynd.But syth thou wentest to thy death, I would that I had goneWith thee. Ah meete, it meete had beene thou shouldst not go aloneWithout mee. So it should have come to passe that neyther IHad overlived thee, nor yit beene forced twice to dye. Already, absent in the waves now tossed have I bee.Already have I perrished. And yit the sea hath theeWithout mee. But the cruelnesse were greater farre of meeThan of the sea, if after thy decease I still would striveIn sorrow and in anguish still to pyne away alive. But neyther will I strive in care to lengthen still my lyfe,Nor (wretched wyght) abandon thee: but like a faythfull wyfeAt leastwyse now will come as thy companion. And the herseShall joyne us, though not in the selfsame coffin: yit in verse.Although in tumb the bones of us togither may not couch, Yit in a graven Epitaph my name thy name shall touch.Her sorrow would not suffer her to utter any more.Shee sobd and syghde at every woord, untill her hart was sore.The morning came, and out shee went ryght pensif to the shoreTo that same place in which shee tooke her leave of him before.Whyle there shee musing stood, and sayd: He kissed mee even heere,Heere weyed hee his Anchors up, heere loosd he from the peere.And whyle shee calld to mynd the things there marked with her eyes:In looking on the open sea, a great way off shee spyesA certaine thing much like a corse come hovering on the wave. At first shee dowted what it was. As tyde it neerer drave,Although it were a good way off, yit did it plainely showeTo bee a corce. And though that whose it was shee did not knowe,Yit forbycause it seemd a wrecke, her hart therat did ryse:And as it had sum straunger beene, with water in her eyes She sayd: Alas poore wretch who ere thou art, alas for herThat is thy wyfe, if any bee. And as the waves did stirre,The body floted neerer land: the which the more that sheeBehilld, the lesse began in her of stayed wit to bee.Anon it did arrive on shore. Then plainely shee did seeAnd know it, that it was her feere. Shee shreeked, It is hee.And therewithall her face, her heare, and garments shee did teare,And unto Ceyx stretching out her trembling handes with feare,Sayd: cumst thou home in such a plyght to mee, O husband deere?Returnst in such a wretched plyght? There was a certeine peere That buylded was by hand, of waves the first assaults to breake,And at the havons mouth to cause the tyde to enter weake.Shee lept thereon. (A wonder sure it was shee could doo so)Shee flew, and with her newgrowen winges did beate the ayre as tho.And on the waves a wretched bird shee whisked to and fro. And with her crocking neb then growen to slender bill and round,Like one that wayld and moorned still shee made a moaning sound.Howbee't as soone as she did touch his dumb and bloodlesse flesh,And had embraast his loved limbes with winges made new and fresh,And with her hardened neb had kist him coldly, though in vayne, Folk dowt if Ceyx feeling it to rayse his head did strayne,Or whither that the waves did lift it up. But surely heeIt felt: and through compassion of the Goddes both hee and sheeWere turnd to birdes. The love of them eeke subject to their fate,Continued after: neyther did the faythfull bond abateOf wedlocke in them beeing birdes: but standes in stedfast state.They treade, and lay, and bring foorth yoong and now the Alcyon sittsIn wintertime uppon her nest, which on the water flittsA sevennyght. During all which tyme the sea is calme and still,And every man may to and fro sayle saufly at his will,For Aeolus for his offsprings sake the windes at home dooth keepe,And will not let them go abroade for troubling of the deepe.

An auncient father seeing them aabout the brode sea fly,Did prayse theyr love for lasting to the end so stedfastly.His neyghbour or the selfsame man made answer (such is chaunce): Even this fowle also whom thou seest uppon the surges glaunceWith spindle shanks, (he poynted to the wydegoawld Cormorant)Before that he became a bird, of royall race might vaunt.And if thou covet lineally his pedegree to seeke,His Auncetors were Ilus, and Assaracus, and eeke Fayre Ganymed who Jupiter did ravish as his joy,Laomedon and Priamus the last that reygnd in Troy.Stout Hectors brother was this man. And had he not in prymeOf lusty youth beene tane away, his deedes perchaunce in tymeHad purchaast him as great a name as Hector, though that hee Of Dymants daughter Hecuba had fortune borne to bee.For Aesacus reported is begotten to have beeneBy scape, in shady Ida on a mayden fayre and sheeneWhose name was Alyxothoe, a poore mans daughter thatWith spade and mattocke for himselfe and his a living gat. This Aesacus the Citie hates, and gorgious Court dooth shonne,And in the unambicious feeldes and woods alone dooth wonne.He seeldoom haunts the towne of Troy, yit having not a rudeAnd blockish wit, nor such a hart as could not be subdewdBy love, he spyde Eperie (whom oft he had pursewdThrough all the woodes) then sitting on her father Cebrius brimA drying of her heare ageinst the sonne, which hanged trimUppon her back. As soone as that the Nymph was ware of him,She fled as when the grisild woolf dooth scare the fearefull hyndOr when the Fawcon farre from brookes a Mallard happes to fynd. The Trojane knyght ronnes after her, and beeing swift through love,Purseweth her whom feare dooth force apace her feete to move.Behold an Adder lurking in the grasse there as shee fled,Did byght her foote with hooked tooth, and in her bodye spredHis venim. Shee did cease her flyght and soodein fell downe dead. Her lover being past his witts her carkesse did embrace,And cryde: Alas it irketh mee, it irkes mee of this chace.But this I feard not. Neyther was the gaine of that I willdWoorth halfe so much. Now two of us thee (wretched soule) have killd.The wound was given thee by the snake, the cause was given by mee. The wickedder of both am I: who for to comfort theeWill make thee satisfaction with my death. With that at lastDowne from a rocke (the which the waves had undermynde) he castHimself into the sea. Howbee't dame Tethys pitying him,Receyvd him softly, and as he uppon the waves did swim, Shee covered him with fethers. And though fayne he would have dyde,Shee would not let him. Wroth was he that death was him denyde,And that his soule compelld should bee ageinst his will to bydeWithin his wretched body still, from which it would depart,And that he was constreynd to live perforce ageinst his hart. And as he on his shoulders now had newly taken wings,He mounted up, and downe uppon the sea his boddye dings.His fethers would not let him sinke. In rage he dyveth downe,And despratly he strives himself continually to drowne.His love did make him leane, long leggs: long neck dooth still remayne. His head is from his shoulders farre: of Sea he is most fayne.And for he underneath the waves delyghteth for to driveA name according thereunto the Latins doo him give.

King Priam beeing ignorant that Aesacus his sonneDid live in shape of bird, did moorne: and at a tumb wheronHis name was written, Hector and his brother solemlyDid keepe an Obit. Paris was not at this obsequye.Within a whyle with ravisht wyfe he brought a lasting warre Home unto Troy. There followed him a thowsand shippes not farreConspyrd togither, with the ayde that all the Greekes could fynd:And vengeance had beene tane foorthwith but that the cruell wyndDid make the seas unsaylable, so that theyr shippes were fayneAt rode at fisshye Awlys in B'aeotia to remayne.Heere as the Greekes according to theyr woont made sacrifyseTo Jove, and on the Altar old the flame aloft did ryse,They spyde a speckled Snake creepe up uppon a planetree byeUppon the toppe whereof there was among the braunches hyeA nest, and in the nest eyght birdes, all which and eeke theyr damThat flickering flew about her losse, the hungry snake did cramWithin his mawe. The standers by were all amazde therat.But Calchas, Thestors sonne, who knew what meening was in that,Sayd: We shall win. Rejoyce, yee Greekes, by us shall perish Troy,But long the tyme will bee before wee may our will enjoy. And then he told them how the birds nyne yeeres did signifieWhich they before the towne of Troy not taking it should lye.The Serpent as he wound about the boughes and braunches greene,Became a stone, and still in stone his snakish shape is seene.The seas continewed verry rough and suffred not theyr hoste Imbarked for to passe from thence to take the further coast.Sum thought that Neptune favored Troy bycause himself did buyldThe walles therof. But Calchas (who both knew, and never hilldHis peace in tyme) declared that the Goddesse Phebe mustAppeased bee with virgins blood for wrath conceyved just. As soone as pitie yeelded had to cace of publicke weale,And reason got the upper hand of fathers loving zeale,So that the Ladye Iphigen before the altar stoodAmong the weeping ministers, to give her maydens blood:The Goddesse taking pitie, cast a mist before theyr eyes, And as they prayd and stird about to make the sacrifyse,Conveyes her quight away, and with a Hynd her roome supplyes.Thus with a slaughter meete for her Diana beeing pleasd,The raging surges with her wrath togither were appeasd,The thousand shippes had wynd at poope. And when they had abode Much trouble, at the length all safe they gat the Phrygian rode.Amid the world tweene heaven, and earth, and sea, there is a place,Set from the bounds of eche of them indifferently in space,From whence is seene what ever thing is practisd any where,Although the Realme bee nere so farre, and roundly to the eare Commes whatsoever spoken is. Fame hath his dwelling there.Who in the toppe of all the house is lodged in a towre.A thousand entryes, glades, and holes are framed in this bowre.There are no doores to shet. The doores stand open nyght and day.The house is all of sounding brasse, and roreth every way, Reporting dowble every woord it heareth people say.There is no rest within, there is no silence any where.Yit is there not a yelling out: but humming, as it wereThe sound of surges beeing heard farre off, or like the soundThat at the end of thunderclappes long after dooth redound, When Jove dooth make the clowdes to crack. Within the courts is preaceOf common people, which to come and go doo never ceace.And millions both of trothes and lyes ronne gadding every where,And woordes confusely flye in heapes. Of which, sum fill the eareThat heard not of them erst, and sum Colcaryers part doo playTo spread abrode the things they heard. And ever by the wayThe thing that was invented growes much greater than before,And every one that getts it by the end addes sumwhat more.Lyght credit dwelleth there. There dwells rash error: there dooth dwellVayne joy: there dwelleth hartlesse feare, and Bruit that loves to tell Uncertayne newes uppon report, whereof he dooth not knoweThe author, and Sedition who fresh rumors loves to sowe.