Made of Beares skin, that him more dreadfull made,
Yet his owne face was dreadfull, ne did need
Straunge horrour, to deforme his griesly shade;
A net in th’one hand, and a rustie blade
In th’other was, this Mischiefe, that Mishap;
With th’one his foes he threatned to inuade,
With th’other he his friends ment to enwrap:
For whom he could not kill, he practizd to entrap.
Next him was Feare, all arm’d from top to toe, xii
Yet thought himselfe not safe enough thereby,