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490
COMPLAINTS
The scahe backe of that most hideous snake
Enwrapped round, oft fainmg to retire,
And oft him to assaile, he fiercely strake
Whereas his temples did his creast front tyre,
And for he was but slowe, did slowth off shake,
And gazing ghastly on (for feare and yre 310
Had blent so much his sense, that lessehefeard,)
Yet when he saw him slame, himself e he cheard
By this the night forth from the darksome bowre
Of Herebus her teemed steedes gan call,
And laesie Vesper in his timely howre
From golden Oela gan proceede withall,
Whenas the Shepheard after this sharpe stowre,
Semg the doubled shadowes low to fall,
Gathering his straying flocke, does homeward
fare,
And vnto rest his weane loynts prepare 320
Into whose sense so soone as lighter sleepe
Was entered, and now loosing cuenc hm,
Sweete slumbnng deaw in carelesnesse did
steepe,
The Image of that Gnat appeard to him,
And in sad tearmes gan sorrowfully weepe,
With greishe countenaunce and visage grim,
Wailing the wrong which he had done of late,
In steed of good hastmng his crueli fate
Said he, what haue I wretch deseru'd, that thus
Into this bitter bale I am outcast, 330
Whilest that thy life more deare and precious
Was than mine owne, so long as it did last ?
I now in lieu of paines so gracious,
Am tost in th'ayre with euerie wmdie blast
Thou safe dehuered from sad decay,
Thy careles limbs in loose sleep dost display
So huest thou, but my poore wretched ghost
Is forst to feme ouer Lethes Riuer,
And spoyld of Charon too and fro am tost
Seest thou, how all places quake and quiuer 340
Lightned with deadly lamps on euerie post ?
Ttstph&ne each where doth shake and shiuer
Her flaming fire brond, encountnng me,
Whose lockes vncombed crueli adders be
And Cerberus, whose many mouthes doo bay,
And barke out flames, as if on fire he fed,
Adowne whose necke in terrible array,
Ten thousand snakes cralling about his hed
Doo hang in heapes, that horribly affray,
And bloodie eyes doo glister fine red, 350
He oftentimes me dreadfulhe doth threaten,
With painfull torments to be sorely beaten
Ay me,that thankesso muchshould faileof meed,
For that I thee restor'd to life againe,
Euen from the doore of death and deadhe dreed
Where then is now the guerdon of my paine ?
Where the reward of my so piteous deed ?
The praise of pitie vanisht is in vaine,
And th'antique faith of Iustice long agone
Out of the land is fled away and gone 360
I saw anothers fate approaching fast,
And left mine owne his safetie to tender,
Into the same mishap I now am cast,
And shun'd destruction doth destruction render
Not vnto him that neuer hath trespast,
But punishment is due to the offender
Yet let destruction be the punishment,
So long as thankfull will may it relent
I carried am into waste wildernesse, 369
Waste wldernes, amongst Lymerian shades,
Where endles paines and hideous heauinesse
Is round about me heapt in darksome glades
For there huge Olhos sits in sad distresse,
Fast bound with serpents that him oft inuades
Par of beholding Ephialtes tide,
Which once assai'd to burne this world so wide
And there is mournful 1 Tilyus mmdefull yet
Of thy displeasure, 0 Latona faire,
Displeasure too impi icable was it,
That made him meat for wild foulcs of the ayre
Much do I fearc among such fiends to sit, 381
Much do I feare back to them to repayre,
To the black shadowes of the Stygian shore,
Where wretched ghosts sit wailing euermore
There next the vtmost bnnck doth he abide,
That did the bankets of the Gods bewray,
Whose throat through thirst to nought nigh
being dnde
His sense to seeke for ease turnes euery way
And he that in autngement of his pride,
For scorning to the sacred Gods to pray, 390
Against a mountaine rolls a mightie stone,
Calling in vaine for rest, and can haue none
Go ye with them, go cursed damosells,
Whose bridale torches foule hrynnis tynde,
And Hymen at your Spousalls sad, foretells
Tydmgs of death and massacre vnkinde
With them that crueli tolchid mother dwells,
I he which conceiu'd in her reuengefull mmde,
With bitter woundes her owne deere babes to
slay,
And murdred troupes vpon great heapes to lay
There also those two Pandionian maides, 401
Calling on Itts, Itts euermore,
Whom wretched boy they slew withguiltieblades
For whome the Tkraaan king lamenting sore,
Turn'd to a Lapwing, fowhe them vpbraydes,
And fluttering round about them still does sore
There now they all eternally complame
Of others wrong, and suffer endles paine