A new Sonnet, shewing how the Goddesse Diana transformed Acteon into the
shape of an Hart. To the tune of, Rogero.
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DIana and her Darlings Deare
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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 disport and play:
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The leaves aloft were gay and green,
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and pleasant to behold,
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These Nymphs they walkt the Trees be-tween,
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under the shadow cold
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So long at last they found a place
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of springs and waters cleare,
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A fairer Bath their never was
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found out this thousand yeare:
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Wherein Diana daintily
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herselfe began to bathe,
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And all her Virgins faire 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 voyce aloud they cry'd,
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And clos'd 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 seene 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 is was to boot,
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his former fights were done:
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And as he thought from her to scape,
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she brought it so to passe,
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[Inc]ontinent she chang'd his shape,
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[e]ven running as he was.
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Each Goddesse took Diana's part,
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Acteon to transforme
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To make of him a huge wild Hart,
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there they did all determe:
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His skin that was so fine and faire,
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was made a tawnie red,
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His Body overgrowne wish haire,
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from foot unto the head;
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And on his head great hornes were set,
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most monstrous to behold,
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A huger Hart was never met,
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nor see upon the Mould;
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His eares his eyes, his face full faire,
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transformed were full strange,
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His hands for feet compelled were
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throughout the Wood 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 shapes did cleane depart
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from every joynt and limb:
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But still his memory did remaine,
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although he might not speake,
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Nor yet among his friends complaine,
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his wofull minde to breake,
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At length he thought for to repaire,
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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 try apace:
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Then Acteon was sore agast,
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his Hounds would him devoure,
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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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He spared neither Bush nor Brake,
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but ran through thick and thin,
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With all the swiftnesse he could make,
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in hope to save his skin:
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Yet were his hounds so neare his tayle,
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and followed him so fast,
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His running might not him availe,
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for all his speed and haste.
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The second part, to the same tune.
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FOr why, his Hounds would never lin,
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till him they overtook,
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And then they rent and tore the skin,
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and all his body shook;
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I am your Master Acteon,
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then cry'd he to his Hounds,
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And made to them most rufull moane,
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with shrill lamenting sounds.
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I have been he that gave you food,
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wherein I did delight,
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Wherefore suck not your masters bloud,
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his feiendship to requite:
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But those Curres of a cursed kind,
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of him had no remorse
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Although he was their dearest friend,
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they pul'd him downe by force.
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There was no man to take his part,
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the story telleth plaine;
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Thus Acteon formed like a Hart,
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amongst the Dogs was slaine.
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Your Hunters all that range the Woods,
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although you rise up rath,
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Beware you come not neer the Floods
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where Virgins use to bathe.
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For if Diana you espy
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among her Darlings deare
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Your former shape she shall disguise,
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and make you hornes to weare.
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And so I now conclude my Song,
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having no more to alledge,
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If Acteon had right or wrong,
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let all faireVirgins judge.
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