Page:Batrachomyomachia, or, the wonderfull and bloudy Battell betweene Frogs and Mice.djvu/37

The silly Mouce distressed and forlorne,
Left to the mercy of the running mayne,
Vnto the bottome head-long downe is borne,
Where he, poore soule, in secret doth complaine,
Plunging with hands aloft now doth he fleet,
Then sinking downe againe he strikes with feet:
"But when grim destiny doth once assayle,
"No might, no shift, no force can then prevaile.

When therefore to approach he knew his death,
And that his wet haires furthered his woe,
Fate still attendant for to stop his breath,
And death at hand to worke his overthrow,
Weeping for sorrow, voyd of all reliefe,
Thus with himselfe he sigh'd to ease his griefe:
^[1]"For teares and sighes, sad orators of smart,
"Though they release not, yet they ease the heart.

Perfidious Frog, procurer of my wrack,
Accursed Traytor to my fathers Crowne,
Thinke not though vengeance for a time be slack,
That thundring Iove to whom all things are known,
Will be forgetfull of thy trechery,
Through whose deceit I dye in misery,
Which from thy back, as off a rocke I stood,
Hast thrown me, perjur'd wretch, amid the flood.

1. Est quædam flere voluptas..

Well