A New Sonnet, shewing how the Goddess Diana, transformed Acteon
into the shape of an Hart. To a New Tune.
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DIANA and her darlings dear,
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went walking on a day,
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Throughout the woods and waters clear
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for their disports and play:
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The leaves aloft were very green,
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and pleasant to behold
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These Nymphs they walkt the trees between,
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under the shaddows cold.
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So long at last they found a place,
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of springs and waters clear,
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A fairer bath there never was
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found out this thousand year:
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Wherein Diana daintily
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herself began to bath,
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And all her virgins fair and pure,
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themselves did wash and lave.
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And as the nymphs in water stood,
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Acteon passed by,
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As he came running through the wood,
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on them he cast his eye:
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And eke behold their bodies bare,
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then presently that tide,
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And as the Nymphs of him were ware,
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with voice aloud they cryd.
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And closd Diana round about,
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to hide her body small,
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Yet she was highest in the rout,
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and seen above them all:
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And when Diana did perceive
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where Acteon did stand,
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A furious look to him she gave,
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and took her bow in hand.
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And as she was about to shoot,
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Acteon began to run,
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To hide he thought it was no boot,
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his former sights were done.
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And as he thought from her to scape,
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she brought it so to pass,
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Incontinently she changd his shape,
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even running as he was,
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Each Goddess took Dianas part,
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Acteon to transform,
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To make of him a huge wild Hart,
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there they did all determ:
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His skin that was so fine and fair,
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was made a tawny red,
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His body over-grown with hair,
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from feet unto the head.
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And on his head great horns were set,
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most wondrous to behold,
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A huger Hart was never met,
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nor seen upon the mold:
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His ears, his eyes that was so fair,
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transformed were full strange,
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His hands, his feet compelled were,
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throughout the woods to range.
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Thus was he made a perfect Hart,
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and waxed fierce and grim,
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His former shape did quite depart
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from every joynt and limb;
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But still his memory did remain,
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although he might not speak
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Nor yet among his friends complain
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his woful mind to break.
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At length he thought for to repair
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home to his dwelling place,
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Anon his hounds of him were ware,
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and gan to cry apace:
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Then Acteon was sore agast,
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his hounds would him devour,
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And from them then he fled full fast,
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with all his might and power.
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The second Part, to the same tune.
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HE spared neither bush nor brake,
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but ran through thick and thin,
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With all the swiftness he could make
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in hope to save his skin:
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Yet were his hounds so near his tail,
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and followed him so fast,
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His running might not him avail,
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for all his speed and hast.
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For why his hounds will never lin,
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till they him overtook,
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And then they rent and tore his skin
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and all his body shook.
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I am your master Acteon,
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then cryed he to his hounds,
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And made unto them rueful moans
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with sad Lamenting sounds.
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I have been he that gave you food,
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wherein I took delight;
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Therefore suck not your masters blood
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his friendship to requite:
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But those curs of a cursed kind,
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on him had no remorse,
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Although he was their dearest friend,
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they pull[]d him down by force.
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There was no man to take his part,
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the story telleth plain,
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Thus Acteon a huge wild Hart,
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among the Does was slain.
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You hunters all that range the wood,
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although you rise up rath,
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Beware you come not nigh the flood
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where Virgins use to bath.
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For if Diana you espy
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amongst her Darlings dear,
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Your former shape she will disguise,
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and make you horns to wear:
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And so I now conclude my song,
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having nothing to alledge,
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If Acteon had right or wrong
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let all true Virgins judge.
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