All deadly daungerous, all cruell keene,
Headed with flint, and feathers bloudie dide,
Such as the Indians in their quiuers hide;
Those could he well direct and streight as line,
And bid them strike the marke, which he had eyde,
Ne was their salue, ne was their medicine,
That mote recure their wounds: so inly they did tine.
As pale and wan as ashes was his looke, xxii
His bodie leane and meagre as a rake,
And skin all withered like a dryed rooke,