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 With secret whispring to themselves to Laton they dyd pray. How much from utter barrennesse the Goddesse was: so much Disdeind she more: and in the top of Cynthus framed such Complaint as this to both hir twinnes. Lo I your mother deare, Who in my bodie once you twaine with painefull travail beare, Loe I whose courage is so stout as for to yeelde to none Of all the other Goddesses except Joves wife alone, Am lately doubted whether I a Goddesse be or no. And if you helpe not, children mine, the case now standeth so That I the honor must from hence of Altars quight forgo. But this is not mine only griefe. Besides hir wicked fact Most railing words hath Niobe to my defacing rackt. She durst prefer hir Barnes to you. And as for me, she naamde Me barren in respect of hir, and was no whit ashaamde To shewe hir fathers wicked tongue which she by birth doth take. This said: Latona was about entreatance for to make. Cease off (quoth Phebus) long complaint is nothing but delay Of punishment, and the selfesame wordes did Phebe also say. And by and by they through the Ayre both gliding swiftly downe, On Cadmus pallace hid in cloudes did light in Thebe towne. A fielde was underneath the wall both levell, large and wide, Betrampled every day with horse that men therin did ride, Where store of Carres and Horses hoves the cloddes to dust had trode. A couple of Amphions sonnes on lustie coursers rode In this same place. Their horses faire Coperisons did weare Of scarlet: and their bridles brave with golde bedecked were. Of whome as Niobs eldest sonne Ismenos hapt to bring His horse about, and reynde him in to make him keepe the ring, He cride alas: and in his brest with that an arrow stacke And by and by hys dying hand did let the bridle slacke. And on the right side of the horse he slipped to the ground. The second brother Sipylus did chaunce to heare the sound Of Quivers clattring in the Ayre, and giving streight the reyne And spur togither to his horse, began to flie amayne: As doth the master of a ship: who when he sees a shoure Approching, by some mistie cloud that ginnes to gloume and loure Doth clap on all his sayles bicause no winde should scape him by