At that he grimly bendes his browes, and much adoo he hath
To hold his hands, so sore his hart inflamed is with wrath.
He said no more but thus: My hand dooth serve mee better than
My toong. Content I am (so I in feighting vanquish can)
That thou shalt overcome in wordes. And therewithall he gan
Mee feercely to assaile. Mee thought it was a shame for mee
That had even now so stoutly talkt, in dooings faint to bee.
I casting off my greenish cloke thrust stifly out at length
Mine armes and streynd my pawing armes to hold him out by strength,
And framed every limme to cope. With both his hollow hands
He caught up dust and sprincked mee: and I likewise with sands
Made him all yelow too. One whyle hee at my necke dooth snatch
Another whyle my cleere crisp legges he striveth for to catch,
Or trippes at mee: and everywhere the vauntage he dooth watch.
My weightinesse defended mee, and cleerly did disfeate
His stoute assaults as when a wave with hideous noyse dooth beate
Against a Rocke, the Rocke dooth still both sauf and sound abyde
By reason of his massinesse. Wee drew a whyle asyde.
And then incountring fresh ageine, wee kept our places stowt
Full minded not to yeeld an inch, but for to hold it owt.
Now were wee stonding foote to foote. And I with all my brest
Was leaning forward, and with head ageinst his head did rest,
And with my gryping fingars I ageinst his fingars thrust.
So have I seene two myghtie Bulles togither feercely just
In seeking as their pryse to have the fayrest Cow in all
The feeld to bee their make, and all the herd bothe greate and small
Stand gazing on them fearfully not knowing unto which
The conquest of so greate a gayne shall fall. Three tymes a twich
Gave Hercules and could not wrinch my leaning brest him fro
But at the fourth he shooke mee off and made mee to let go
My hold: and with a push (I will tell truthe) he had a knacke
To turne me off, and heavily he hung upon my backe.
And if I may beleeved bee (as sure I meene not I
To vaunt my selfe vayngloriusly by telling of a lye,)
Mee thought a mountaine whelmed me. But yit with much adoo
I wrested in my sweating armes, and hardly did undoo
His griping hands. He following still his vauntage, suffred not
Page:Metamorphoses (Ovid, 1567).djvu/245
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