As hundred ramping Lyons seem’d to rore,
Whom rauenous hunger did thereto constraine:
Then gan he tosse aloft his stretched traine,
And therewith scourge the buxome aire so sore,
That to his force to yeelden it was faine;
Ne ought his sturdie strokes might stand afore,
That high trees ouerthrew, and rocks in peeces tore.
The same aduauncing high aboue his head, xxxviii
With sharpe intended sting so rude him smot,
That to the earth him droue, as stricken dead,