Page:Metamorphoses (Ovid, 1567).djvu/138

By fortune sliding in the blood with which the ground was wet,
Fell downe: and as they woulde have rose, Perseus fauchon met
With both of them. Amphimedon upon the ribbes he smote,
And with the like celeritie he cut me Phorbas throte.
But unto Erith, Actors sonne, that in his hand did holde
A brode browne Bill, with his short sword he durst not be too bolde
To make approch. With both his handes a great and massie cup
Embost with cunning portrayture aloft he taketh up,
And sendes it at him. He spewes up red bloud: and falling downe o
Upon his backe, against the ground doth knocke his dying crowne.
Then downe he Polydemon throwes, extract of royall race,
And Abaris the Scithian, and Clytus in like case,
And Elice with his unshorne lockes, and also Phlegias,
And Lycet, olde Sperchesies sonne, with divers other mo,
That on the heapes of corses slaine he treades as he doth go.
And Phyney daring not presume to meet his foe at hand,
Did cast a Dart: which hapt to light on Idas who did stand
Aloofe as neuter (though in vaine) not medling with the Fray.
Who casting backe a frowning looke at Phyney, thus did say:
Sith whether that I will or no compeld I am perforce
To take a part, have Phyney here him whome thou doste enforce
To be thy foe, and with this wound my wrongfull wound requite.
But as he from his body pullde the Dart, with all his might
To throw it at his foe againe, his limmes so feebled were
With losse of bloud, that downe he fell and could not after steare.
There also lay Odites slaine the chiefe in all the land
Next to King Cephey, put to death by force of Clymens hand.
Protenor was by Hypsey killde, and Lyncide did as much
For Hypsey. In the throng there was an auncient man and such
A one as loved righteousnesse and greatly feared God:
Emathion called was his name: whome sith his yeares forbad
To put on armes, he feights with tongue, inveying earnestly
Against that wicked war the which he banned bitterly.
As on the Altar he himselfe with quivering handes did stay,
One Cromis tipped off his head: his head cut off streight way
Upon the Altar fell, and there his tongue not fully dead
Did bable still the banning wordes the which it erst had sed,