Page:Metamorphoses (Ovid, 1567).djvu/375

 But when that flyght had saved you from death, he did begin On Aetna syghing up and downe to walke: and with his pawes Went groping of the trees among the woodes. And forbycause He could not see, he knockt his shinnes ageinst the rocks eche where. And stretching out his grisly armes (which all beegrymed were With baken blood) to seaward, he the Greekish nation band, And sayd: O if that sum good chaunce myght bring unto my hand Ulysses or sum mate of his, on whom to wreake myne ire, Uppon whose bowells with my teeth I like a Hawke myght tyre: Whose living members myght with theis my talants teared beene: Whoose blood myght bubble down my throte: whose flesh myght pant between My jawes: how lyght or none at all this losing of myne eye Would seeme. Theis woordes and many mo the cruell feend did cry. A shuddring horror perced mee to see his smudged face, And cruell handes, and in his frunt the fowle round eyelesse place, And monstrous members, and his beard beslowbered with the blood Of man. Before myne eyes then death the smallest sorrow stood. I loked every minute to bee seased in his pawe. I looked ever when he should have cramd mee in his mawe. And in my mynd I of that tyme mee thought the image sawe When having dingd a doozen of our fellowes to the ground And lying lyke a Lyon feerce or hunger sterved hownd Uppon them, very eagerly he downe his greedy gut Theyr bowwels and theyr limbes yit more than half alive did put, And with theyr flesh toogither crasht the bones and maree whyght. I trembling like an aspen leaf stood sad and bloodlesse quyght. And in beholding how he fed and belked up againe His bloody vittells at his mouth, and uttred out amayne The clottred gobbets mixt with wyne, I thus surmysde: Like lot Hangs over my head now, and I must also go to pot. And hyding mee for many dayes, and quaking horribly At every noyse, and dreading death, and wisshing for to dye, Appeasing hunger with the leaves of trees, and herbes and mast, Alone, and poore, and footelesse, and to death and pennance cast, A long tyme after I espyde this shippe afarre at last, And ronning downeward to the sea by signes did succour seeke. Where fynding grace, this Trojane shippe receyved mee, a Greeke.