8
The first Booke of
Cant. I.
Therewith enrag'd, she loudly gan to bray,And turning fierce, her speckled taile aduaunst,Threatning her angrie sting, him to dismay:Who nought aghast, his mightie hand enhaunst:The stroke down frō her head vnto her shoulder glaunst
Much daunted with that dint, her sence was dazd,Yet kindling rage her selfe she gathered round,And all attonce her beastly bodie raizdWith doubled forces high aboue the ground:Tho wrapping vp her wrethed sterne arownd,Lept fierce vpon his shield, and her huge traineAll suddenly about his body wound,That hand or foot to stirr he stroue in vaine:God helpe the man so wrapt in Errours endlesse traine.
His Lady sad to see his sore constraint,Cride out, Now now Sir knight, shew what ye beeAdd faith vnto your force, and be not faint:Strangle her, els she sure will strangle thee.That when he heard, in great perplexitie,His gall did grate for griefe and high disdaine,And knitting all his force got one hand free,Wherewith he grypther gorge with so great paine,That soone to loose her wicked bands did her cōstraine.
Therewith she spewd out of her filthie mawA floud of poyson horrible and blacke,Full of great lumps of flesh and gobbets raw,Which stunck so vildly, that it forst him slacke,'His grasping hold, and ftom her turne him backe:Her vomit full of bookes and papers was,With loathly frogs and toades, which eyes did lacke,And creeping sought way in the weedy gras:Her filthie parbreake all the place defiled has.
