Whom, thus at point prepared, to prevent,
A litle noursling of the humid ayre,
A Gnat, unto the sleepie shepheard went,
And marking where his ey-lids twinckling rare
Shewd the two pearles which sight unto him lent, 285
Through their thin coverings appearing fayre
His little needle there infixing deep,
Warnd him awake, from death himselfe to keep.
Wherewith enrag’d, he fiercely gan upstart,
And with his hand him rashly bruzing slewe 290
As in avengement of his heedles smart,
That streight the spirite out of his senses flew.
And life out of his members did depart:
When, suddenly casting aside his vew,
He spide his foe with felonous intent, 295
And fervent eyes to his destruction bent.
All suddenly dismaid, and hartles quight,
He fled abacke, and, catching hastie holde
Of a yong alder hard beside him pight,
It rent, and streight about him gan beholde 300
What god or fortune would assist his might.
But whether god or fortune made him bold
Its hard to read: yet hardie will he had
To overcome, that made him lesse adrad*.
[* Adrad, terrified]
The scalie backe of that most hideous snake 305
Enwrapped round, oft faining to retire
And oft him to assaile, he fiercely strake
Whereas his temples did his creast front tyre*;
And, for he was but slowe, did slowth off shake,
And, gazing ghastly on, (for feare and yre 310
Had blent** so much his sense, that lesse he feard,)—
Yet, when he saw him slaine, himselfe he cheard.
[* Tyre, encircle]
[** Blent, blinded]
By this the Night forth from the darksome bowre
Of Herebus her teemed* steedes gan call,
And laesie Vesper in his timely howre 315
From golden Oeta gan proceede withall;
Whenas the shepheard after this sharpe stowre**,
Seing the doubled shadowes low to fall,
Gathering his straying flocke, does homeward fare,
And unto rest his wearie ioynts prepare. 320
[* Teemed, harnessed in a team]
[** Stowre, perturbation]
Into whose sense so soone as lighter sleepe
Was entered, and now loosing everie lim,
Sweete slumbring deaw in carelesnesse did steepe,
The image of that Gnat appeard to him,
And in sad tearmes gan sorrowfully weepe, 325
With grieslie countenaunce and visage grim,
Wailing the wrong which he had done of late,
In steed of good, hastning his cruell fate.
Said he, “What have I wretch deserv’d, that thus
Into this bitter bale I am outcast, 330
Whilest that thy life more deare and precious
Was than mine owne, so long as it did last?
I now, in lieu of paines so gracious,
Am tost in th’ayre with everie windie blast:
Thou, safe delivered from sad decay, 335
Thy careles limbs in loose sleep dost display.
“So livest thou; but my poore wretched ghost
Is forst to ferrie over Lethes river,
And spoyld of Charon too and fro am tost.
Seest thou not how all places quake and quiver, 340
Lightned with deadly lamps on everie post?
Tisiphone each where doth shake and shiver
Her flaming fire-brond, encountring me,
Whose lockes uncombed cruell adders be.
“And Cerberus, whose many mouthes doo bay, 345
And barke out flames, as if on fire he fed,
Adowne whose necke, in terrible array,
Ten thousand snakes, cralling about his hed,
Doo hang in heapes, that horribly affray,
And bloodie eyes doo glister firie red, 350
He oftentimes me dreadfullie doth threaten
With painfull torments to be sorely beaten.
“Ay me! that thankes so much should faile of meed,
For that I thee restor’d to life againe,
Even from the doore of death and deadlie dreed. 355
Where then is now the guerdon of my paine?
Where the reward of my so piteous deed?
The praise of pitie vanisht is in vaine,
And th’antique faith of iustice long agone
Out of the land is fled away and gone. 360