Page:Metamorphoses (Ovid, 1567).djvu/141

Upon the left side Molpheus, a Prince of Choanie.
And on the right Ethemon, borne hard by in Arabie.
Like as the Tyger when he heares the lowing out of Neate
In sundrie Medes, enforced sore through abstinence from meate,
Would faine be doing with them both, and can not tell at which
Were best to give adventure first: so Persey who did itch
To be at host with both of them, and doubtfull whether side
To turne him on, the right or left, upon advantage spide
Did wound me Molphey on the leg, and from him quight him drave.
He was contented with his flight: for why Ethemon gave
No respite to him to pursue: but like a franticke man
Through egernesse to wounde his necke, without regarding whan
Or how to strike for haste, he burst his brittle sworde in twaine
Against the Arche: the poynt whereof rebounding backe againe,
Did hit himselfe upon the throte. Howbeit that same wound
Was unsufficient for to sende Ethemon to the ground.
He trembled holding up his handes for mercie, but in vaine,
For Persey thrust him through the heart with Hermes hooked skaine.
But when he saw that valiantnesse no lenger could avayle,
By reason of the multitude that did him still assayle:
Sith you your selves me force to call mine enmie to mine ayde,
I will do so: if any friend of mine be here (he sayd)
Sirs, turne your faces all away: and therewithall he drew
Out Gorgons head. One Thessalus streight raging to him flew,
And sayd: Go seeke some other man whome thou mayst make abasht
With these thy foolish juggling toyes. And as he would have dasht
His Javeling in him with that worde to kill him out of hand,
With gesture throwing forth his Dart all Marble did he stand.
His sworde through Lyncids noble heart had Amphix thought to shove:
His hand was stone, and neyther one nor other way could move:
But Niley who did vaunt himselfe to be the Rivers sonne
That through the boundes of Aegypt land in channels seven doth runne,
And in his shielde had graven part of silver, part of golde
The said seven channels of the Persey here beholde
From whence we fetch our piedegree: it may rejoyce thy hart
To die of such a noble hand as mine. The latter part
Of these his words could scarce be heard: the dint therof was drownde: