Upon his brothers shield, which hong thereby:
Therewith redoubled was his raging yre,
And said, Ah wretched sonne of wofull syre,
Doest thou sit wayling by blacke Stygian lake,
Whilest here thy shield is hangd for victors hyre,
And sluggish german[°] doest thy forces slake
To after-send his foe, that him may overtake?
XI
Goe caytive Elfe, him quickly overtake,