Page:Metamorphoses (Ovid, 1567).djvu/383

And many sent the Rutills help, and many came to ayd
The Trojanes: neyther was the good Aenaeas ill apayd
Of going to Evanders towne. But Venulus in vayne
To outcast Diomeds citie went his succour to obteine.
This Diomed under Dawnus, king of Calabrye, did found
A myghtye towne, and with his wyfe in dowrye hild the ground.
Now when from Turnus, Venulus his message had declaard,
Desyring help: th'Aetolian knyght sayd none could well bee spaard.
And in excuce, he told him how he neyther durst be bold
To prest his fathers folk to warre of whom he had no hold,
Nor any of his countrymen had left as then alyve
To arme. And lest yee think (quoth hee) I doo a shift contryve,
Although by uppening of the thing my bitter greef revyve
I will abyde to make a new rehersall. After that
The Greekes had burned Troy and on the ground had layd it flat,
And that the Prince of Narix by his ravishing the mayd
In Pallas temple, on us all the pennance had displayd
Which he himself deservd alone: then scattred heere and there
And harryed over all the seas, wee Greekes were fayne to beare
Nyght, thunder, tempest, wrath of heaven and sea, and last of all
Sore shipwrecke at mount Capharey to mend our harmes withall.
And lest that mee to make too long a processe yee myght deeme
In setting forth our heavy happes, the Greekes myght that tyme seeme
Ryght rewfull even to Priamus. Howbee't Minerva, shee
That weareth armour, tooke mee from the waves and saved mee.
But from my fathers Realme ageine by violence I was driven.
For Venus bearing still in mynd the wound I had her given
Long tyme before, did woork revendge. By meanes wherof such toyle
Did tosse mee on the sea, and on the land I found such broyle
By warres, that in my hart I thought them blist of God whom erst
The violence of the raging sea and hideous wynds had perst,
And whom the wrathfull Capharey by shipwrecke did confound:
Oft wisshing also I had there among the rest beene drownd.
My company now having felt the woorst that sea or warre
Could woorke, did faynt, and wisht an end of straying out so farre.
But Agmon hot of nature and too feerce through slaughters made
Sayd: What remayneth, sirs, through which our pacience cannot wade?