'As thou didst once put on the form of bull
60And turned thine Io to a lovely mull,
Defend my rump, great Jove, grant this poor beef
May live to comfort me in all this grief.'
But no Amen was said: see, see it comes!
Draw, boys, let trumpets sound, and strike up drums.
See how his blood doth with the gravy swim,
And every trencher hath a limb of him.
The venison's now in view, our hounds spend deeper.
Strange deer, which in the pasty hath a keeper