Page:Batrachomyomachia, or, the wonderfull and bloudy Battell betweene Frogs and Mice.djvu/61

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Frogs and Mice.
This was the sonne of Artepibulus,
Which doth for bread in wait and ambush lye,
Of loftie heart and magnanimious,
A worthy sire to such a progenie,
Whom mighty Meridarpax he did call,
That eats the crummes which under table fall:
Was never Mouce which under heav'n doth live,
That durst adventure with him for to strive.

Like to a Gyant stood this champion bold,
Vpon the shore neere to the rivers side,
Vaunting his might and prowesse, as he would
Have pull'd the throne of Jove downe in his pride.
And holding up his bourly armes to heaven,
Swore by the Sun, the Moone, and Planets seven,
That e're bright Phœbus lighted from his wayne,
One craven Frog should not alive remaine.

For by this hand, quoth he, by this right hand,
(Searce would a man beleeve it though he sweare)
Though not a Mouce will venture them withstand,
But flie the field for cowardise and feare:
Yet I, behold I, will so thresh these Frogs,
That with their corses I will fill the bogs:
Or they, or I, by Iove this vow I make,
This night will lodge beyond the [1]Stygian lake.

  1. A rover in hell, over which soules doe passe to all places.

And