ΒΑΤΡΑΧΟΜΥΟΜΑΧΙΑ.
7
Whose dead Corpse, vpwards swum along the lake;
Nor yet (poore wretch) could be enforc'd to make
The shore, his harbour; but the mid-Maine swum:
When now (all haste made) with first morne did come
All to set councell; in which, first rais'd head,
Troxartes, angrie for his sonne; and said;
O Friends, though I alone may seeme to beare
All the infortune; yet may all mette here
Account it their case. But tis true, I am
In chiefe vnhappy; that a triple flame
Of life, feele put forth, in three famous sonnes;
The first, the chiefe in our confusions
(The Cat) made rape of; caught without his hole:
The second; Man, made with a cruell soule,
Brought to his ruine, with a new-found sleight;
And a most woodden engine of deceipt,
They terme a Trap; mere [1]Murthresse of our Mise.
The last that in my loue held speciall prise,
And his rare mothers; this Physignathus
(With false pretext of wafting to his house;)
Strangl'd in chiefe deepes, of his bloudy streame.
Come then; haste all, and issue out on them,
Our bodies deckt, in our Dedalean armes.
This said; his words thrust all vp in alarmes;
And Mars himselfe, that serues the cure of war;
Made all in their Appropriats circular.
First on each leg, the greene shales of a Beane,
They clos'd for Bootes; that sat [2]exceeding cleane:
Nor yet (poore wretch) could be enforc'd to make
The shore, his harbour; but the mid-Maine swum:
When now (all haste made) with first morne did come
All to set councell; in which, first rais'd head,
Troxartes, angrie for his sonne; and said;
O Friends, though I alone may seeme to beare
All the infortune; yet may all mette here
Account it their case. But tis true, I am
In chiefe vnhappy; that a triple flame
Of life, feele put forth, in three famous sonnes;
The first, the chiefe in our confusions
(The Cat) made rape of; caught without his hole:
The second; Man, made with a cruell soule,
Brought to his ruine, with a new-found sleight;
And a most woodden engine of deceipt,
They terme a Trap; mere [1]Murthresse of our Mise.
The last that in my loue held speciall prise,
And his rare mothers; this Physignathus
(With false pretext of wafting to his house;)
Strangl'd in chiefe deepes, of his bloudy streame.
Come then; haste all, and issue out on them,
Our bodies deckt, in our Dedalean armes.
This said; his words thrust all vp in alarmes;
And Mars himselfe, that serues the cure of war;
Made all in their Appropriats circular.
First on each leg, the greene shales of a Beane,
They clos'd for Bootes; that sat [2]exceeding cleane:
The
